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Sofia Jul 17
I love you like lemonade.
You're so bitter
but I-I crave
the sweet taste
you give to everything.
And when I'm with you
my mind goes blank
like I can't explain.
I hate when you're away,
so don't leave me.
Only stay.
like the blood that seeps
through the holes n gaps in my skin
i patch it up
with paper and tape
but what lays underneath
calls every blade to my skin
i try again
to keep it away
but it causes a hunger that's impossible to satisfy
in any other way

but maybe that's a story for another day.
deadhead Apr 11
being younger, i remember
begging mom for the bright
yellow cough drops, thinking
that just because it's not candy
doesn't mean it wouldn't be sweet.
i suppose that's how i felt with you.
that just because you weren't like
everyone else, you might still be sweet.
well, as the saying goes, mother knows best.
the cough drop was bitter, and so were you.
Courage you need
Speaking truth
Difficult to swallow
Often so bitter
It shakes their nerves
Fumbles their tongues
Explanations difficult
Denying truth
A vanguard of a hundred lies
Fails to safeguard those
Engulfed in fire of truth
So hatred and enmity take birth
Threatening life speaking truth
Courage you need
Speaking truth
Speaking truth, I snap it
On the face it belongs
I daily see artificially glowing skins
Parched though underneath
They don't find safe haven
When truth is spoken about them
Fear psychosis surrounds some
Strangely they act and harm
Courage you need
Speaking truth
Why I speak truth
My transparency doesn't absorb it
Gloss of my consciousness
Reflects it
Snaps it on the face
Belonging to it
Courage you need
Speaking truth!
Safana Mar 23
I wish I can stay
Stronger than a
giant elephant
to support you

Dear Mother
Baba has gone, may Allah forgive his sins and placed his soul in a beautiful paradise
A fruit may look beautiful yet taste bitter
A fruit may look ugly yet have a taste to make you reconsider
A fruit may look ugly yet taste the sweetest
A fruit may look beautiful yet taste the weakest
~20/3/21
Don't judge a fruit by its cover.
Let's raise a bitter glass,
Football's here at last,
And that's not all,
Teams do crowds enthrall,
From a victory,
****** defeat, you see,
No flag again this year,
Bitter glass, my dears,
Football's finally a'loose,
Pour that glass of bitter juice!
Melbourne in Autumn and Winter. Feedback welcome.
selina Feb 25
mother, my grades do not define me
an A+ will not bring me wealth
see, you’d understand if you asked
if you’d checked in with my mental health

mother, no one should have to prove themselves
self-worth is found in the heart and mind
not in jewelry, clothes, and cars
nor mansions, bars, and wine

mother, life is different now
it’s not how things were in the 90’s
it’s not supposed to be all work and no play
people my age are just teens

mother, *******
can’t you understand, this is Gen Z
let me slow down and waste time
and let things run the way they’re meant to be

mother, this is my life
not a stock to trade or buy
i’m not a human investment
just a girl trying to live her life

mother, stop controlling me
let me test the limits myself
in a world where experience is needed
let me regret and learn by myself

mother, you need to let go
stop holding the strings over my life
the next time i feel this way
i might just cut the tie

mother, my confidence is at a low
it’s not my mind, but my environment
it’s the way you berate me, call me useless
and shamed me to the place i’m now in

mother, maybe one day i’ll forgive you
for the childhood that you stole from me
for being the main reason why i look in the mirror
and see a worthless, tired girl that's lonely

                           mother, maybe one day, you’ll recognize
                           how you’ve unsuccessfully tried your best
                           to raise a perfect asian daughter
                           but she turned out more bitter than the rest
just writing out my anger and frustration... you can ignore me
A small man with a big smell
when his seldom washed clothes were drying after rain.
Stubble chin, fish eye, loose lip
but always ready for0 the tankard's rim,                                    
especially if you were buying.

One of the dark ones, relics of the Bronze Age,
whose ancestors had thrown their seed,
thin grain upon the small and bitter acres that he worked.

Only the rocks grow well in the fields of the grey hills!

At first I thought him diminished,
crushed by the land itself,
it's possession a cancer devouring
and defeat an old coat lashed round his middle with wire.

But drunk once, on a market day,
lowing and jammed like stalled beasts
into the FARMERS bar, he stumbled,
hugged me close to steady himself
and roared out loud to the heedless herd,
with arm outstretched, ******* to the world,
"****** you boys! I am still here!

Nobody heard but me,
whose ear was riven by that yell
and sprayed with rich spittle.

True though, despite the braggadocio of beer,
with the grain of him deep and compacted
like the rocks he fought, he did endure.
here's a memory of a man i knew for a while when living and working in the far west of Cornwall
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