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She is kindness wrapped in warmth,
a quiet calm in my storm.
With just a look, she makes the world slowdown.
With just a word, she turns my worries into nothing.

I can't explain her She is
not just one thing,
not just one feeling.
She is peace, She is home.

She is the softest place my heart has ever known.
And the way she laughs, she talks,
The way she just is
That's what make her special,
That's what make her mine.
January 7d
Is to bottle the fireflies you chased all night,
to watch the lightning and wait for the thunder,
to slip on green moss and fall away the daylight,
to hold onto lichens and ivies creeping the corner.

to let the sunlight make your freckles tickle,
to feel the grass your naked feet walk across,
to let the snow make your nose crinkle,
to love? is to feel the time pause.
January 7d
Dear books,
I love the feeling I get when the series of sentences you hold make me feel understood in the perfect manner.
To be honest, I sometimes envy that those words didn't come out of me
but mostly?
I love you for carrying what I failed or never even tried to bring out of my mind.
I hope you realise your importance and how much you mean and how it brings comfort to me especially at times when I feel low, you're always there.
I'm sorry you have to wait on a coffee stain sometimes or even untouched under heavier books
but mostly I love you for always being there.
Love,
January
Deona Spiteri May 11
Everything suddenly went quiet
So peaceful, so relaxing..
I can't hear a thing, except
the faint sound of my own footsteps,
even though I can't feel the ground.

Everything's moving, yet nothing makes a sound.
Lips changing form, yet no words are spoken aloud.
Running and screaming, still nothing.
I've seen all this before.

These are the best moments of my life.
Yet I can't bring myself to feel happy about it.
I can't feel happy or sad or all the emotions in between.
I try to reach out for these memories, but nothings what it seems.

This world was so enchanting, so peaceful that it felt like death.
So peaceful in fact, I couldn't even hear the screams and tears.
Couldn't hear anything more.
Couldn't move, couldn't see anything,
apart from that which has been seen.

The door closed. It felt like forever, when it was really just 7 seconds.
In those 7 seconds, I relive what was best.
7 seconds of true peace and happiness.
7 seconds of tears of fear.
7 seconds for my blood to turn yellow.
7 seconds for my eyes to lose their spark.
The eyes that once were bright, now hollow.
This poem was originally inspired by the fact that your brain replays it's best memories for 7 minutes before dying! :)
Sometimes a person's soul is so beautiful, it breaks your heart,
and it does more than merely awaken.
It makes you question, leaving you a wholly different being than you were before your souls met.
The person you were before,
has been shaken from its shell,
and now has to learn to live in a world that seems foreign, seems out of place.
Life is never the same when we encounter such souls,
and why would we wish it to be?

-Rhia Clay
Yusuf May 10
Come aboard this submarine,
and observe the sea,
so peaceful and serene,
yet terrifying.

Ebbing and flowing,
never shrinking nor growing,
the tides come
for payment due.

Waves crash and slash,
writhing and weaving,
smoothing rocks,
bringing seashells
but spreading plastic.

Coral grows in a thousand hues
amidst the bright and dreary blues.
Fish and octopi wander
unaware of the world so sombre.

Debris and rotting bones sink,
along with skin and dust,
uncaring and indifferent.

Descend into these darkened depths,
no, no need for eyes,
do try and hold your breath.

Curling tails and bladed mandibles,
they promise to only take a bite.
Deceiving lights and crushing pressure,
this place welcomes not.

Finally.
At the depths.
The water crushes your skull,
and you are truly free.

Why is there a plastic bag?
Sharp pain is my life
It spirals and turns
Twisting into knots so complex that only the darkness can be held.
We learn and we love and we live
In a broken world where sorry doesn’t mean I care, and I love you doesn’t mean I’ll stay.
We’re sitting ducks,
Bound to fall from the sky in a shower of faith
And drop faster than air
And smaller than life.
The pain is a full throb,
An ache from a far away life
Past the barriers I’ve built around my stone raging heart.
These walls seem to live and to flow and to breathe.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.

Let your mind and soul collide in a moment of silence where only the crickets will chirp.

For why would you sing in a long broken world.
Why would you swim in a soft little desert?
Why would you fly in a cage made of concrete.

How can we soar without any wings
How can we dream without any snores

What has this world come to, to feel so alone, in a world overpacked, with rooms overfilling.
Yet each one has a heart with a cage made from steel, and the barriers too high to ever break free from.

Farewell me to a place where dreams die, and lay me down, and forever I’ll cry.

But why would you cry in a heaven made perfect?
January May 8
I wish I could show you,
The sparkle in your eyes.
The same one you're afraid
people won't regard.
as they close their eyes in the rare moments
when you show it just a little
But I wish I could tell you,
it's not because they despise it
but the sparkle in your eyes!?
Its Blindingly Bright
January May 8
I long to weave my thinking into phrases,
before the account of nostalgic moments ceases.
I wish to pen every moment, each picture that I've beheld
and I want to word all of the yearnings withheld.

what is this madness, this endless chase?
to record on a thin sheet all that took place.
Happenings and incidents I try to compile,
is this meaningful or just futile?

For sometimes it feels they'll crawl out of me
and without a glance back, run free.
and I'd not have the strength to stand,
on my wobbling legs and stretch my hand.

I don't know if this feeling's a little gray
I know somethings that have to stay
will not require me to hold tight
yet losing them builds a fright
SL May 2
There was a look in her eyes, when he wasn't home;
now, it lingers there all alone.
The dimmed candlelight, seems out of frame;
as it flickers the names etched on the stones...

He said, "Our names must be there-
on the wall of destiny.
Oh! don't you cry;
When I am gone, honey."

The candle burns once more,
A silver name on the midnight's glow.
As she traces her finger on the wall before,
She knows he's lying down below...
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