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Do not
pity the
that has
died, it
will bloom
once more,  
as an
in life you
held dearly,
unaware of
how it
N May 4
A dream of you is capable of
unleashing so many hidden desires,
I dare not speak of

I have tired to bury every
tender feeling I held for you,
only for it bloom again

You, who sickens me
with immense tenderness
I cannot defy by myself

Your voice alone turns me
into a weakened thing,
and I am forever unwell before you

I wish to plague your thoughts,
and to consume your frigid heart

I wish to escape you entirely,
and to always be near you
Oh, you.
LC Apr 18
flames raze the forest,
bringing it to its knees.
ashes line the ground,
fertilizing the charred soil.
the clouds mourn for the forest,
blessing the ground with its tears.
seeds of all sizes land,
and the sun wakes up to greet them.
a garden rises from the ashes.
Escapril Day 17!
Prompt: garden.
I have been thinking about resilience and bouncing back lately, and the result was this poem. Happy Easter to everyone celebrating, and I hope you are all doing well 💗
LC Apr 14
butterfly in palm
as bright April flowers bloom -
my heart meets nature.
Escapril Day 13! Prompt: palmful.
A haiku seemed to fit well with this prompt, and I enjoyed writing it! I hope you enjoy this poem.
I used to choke
On flowery words
I could not bear
To rip the roots
From deep
In my throat
Yet I find now
That I have grown
Full fields of blooms
In my very chest
Only to pluck
Every single one
For you

Shane Leigh Mar 10
Nocturnal beauty,
Night glory,
Days-end oddity,
Midnight blossom.
In awe of your blooming
at an evening's kiss.
Your beautiful petals outstretched,
To the moon!
Exposed, to the chill of the darkness,
The final yawn of daylight.
You breathe again as your lover's glowing light
reaches your unveiled anthers,
gently caresses your filaments,
kisses deep within your stem,
and how glorious! Your untouched nectar ...
But who is to know,
Moonlight Flower?
I hope you enjoy!!
© Shane Leigh
N Feb 8
My heart started shrieking when she said love could not save us. “How else can you explain this?” I protested as I pulled my bleeding heart out of my hollow chest. “This old thing swears to be yours, and yours only” I said with a lump in my throat. “Here is my heart, it is fragile. Break it anyway, if you must.” I cried.

The flowers she picked for me still haunt me. “How cruel of her. To **** a blooming flower for a lover she soon will ****, softly” I thought, but my dancing heart did not agree with me. “Yield” Pleaded my heart. “Yield! Surender yourself to her”. And so I did.
The poet
of the night
closed her
eyes, and
dreamed of
little stars
as details
in the small
moment of
beauty she
beheld, as a
once hidden,
now coming
alive before
her eyes, as
as when
she had
met the
of a book,
and held
than the
petals of
a flower
held close
to her
forever in
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