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Rainswood Sep 3
Walking alone
On the First cool morning
of the season,
It’s bright and clear
And I notice, for the first time
In a long time
That I can feel the Sun on my face.
Somehow I’d forgotten
My love
for these beautiful mountains so blue
Behind The hill that’s been blocking my view.
A dump site for resentment
and sadness.
Now that I’m
Observing the world again
instead of ruminating
This is my future,
My home.
My view.
Alexandria Aug 11
a butterfly doesn't ask to grow wings
growth is imminent whether we like it or not. When we are awoken, we are pushed by the divine to take the step into consciousness spreading our wings and expanding our minds. We never ask for this but it is always the most divine gift you can give yourself. Accepting growth.
Carlo C Gomez Mar 19
undefined spine
so close, in lordosis

will gravity win tonight?

around a fountain

she's curving toward
rebirthing cisterns
about the recesses
of her question mark


privately electrified
in beautiful confusion
the brain is lost

innately she takes
another drink from my hands
Rochelle R Dec 2022
This stasis is unraveling.
You’ve upset a stagnant soul.
My essence is awakening.
There’s a light on in these halls.
The inner beast is stretching…

Our world is unprepared.
Sarra Oct 2022
When fake skin is shed
and you know your truth.
When all fea ris gone
and you're at peace with you.
When your wings are spread
and you're lost in no rules.
You'll find us:
carried in the moment
making it through
singing to life,
loving it.
Join us,
the beautiful youth.
Eloisa Sep 2022
And the quiet black stillness became a familiar friend.
Slowly reaching to an spiritual abyss,
With dark moments that regularly
strengthened myself.
As the depth of this special solitude
led me to a new realm,
I whispered my prayers
to the wind,
Into the tiny hall of awakening where messenger of the gods awaits.
Glenn Currier Aug 2022
I am Rip
awakened from a long sleep
finally my eyes opening
to see a new world.
Carlo C Gomez Jun 2022
Green reflections
Clouds of pollen
Butterfly mornings
Her face forms in summertime
She sells electric ego
And flowers of herself
Reaping the wild wind
From a haunted garden

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