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Here we are again, in my darkest night,
I’ve never escaped
I thought the last stretches of a pitch-black pool did not  reach me.

Should I be happy on the crescent carving my brokenness?
you said how beautiful the glimpse of the moonlight is,
they have been a prosaic, silvery dust in dismal,
but now, they are a rare light in the sky.

I adore things that aren’t mine
and so you are,
I held an illusion in my desperation, and it wasn’t the universe's fault for sculpting an embodiment of galaxies and stars, such ethereal like you were living in a myth.

You can be there and begone or just begone
(your mercurial imperative) but this time, I wanted to be left on the traces where you were at.
Shofi Ahmed Nov 2021
The first half light crescent sneaked out
catching a glimpse of you glinting  
exuberant on the pitch dark
edge of the other side of the pool
wrapped in pure kohl.
Time and again matching the vision
it waxes into the full moon.

Awake all night in the serene shadow
down the blinded silhouetted earth.
I can see out off its calm lock
a firefly flies out and maybe afar
but that view might not miss no star.
But does even the moon see the tuberose
blooms in dark earth deep down the kohl?
"What thing did hurt you the most?" He asked.
"drowning" I answered.

He look at me as if he scrutinized each word to say.

"you can simply swim against the currents" he said.

I know he can do everything and there's one girl who couldn't even bear to touch the waters.

"You know how much grievance the ocean had bestowed whenever I attach someone in every story I know about it; she kept on drowning, anticipated on how deep the ocean is, every time his eyes fall in crescent"
Payton Mar 2021
once I was a waning crescent, pale and thin—incomplete
a silver sliver of light peeking unwanted in between the
folds of the velvet, midnight sky

and now, having gazed at my sun from a world away, I
am whole—I am full and complete—grand designs,
imperfections, craters—making me no less whole

when you are near it is not you that completes me,
but rather you who illuminates the parts of me I
thought were lost forever

the paradox that you both do and do not complete me
brings me as much comfort as the sun’s warm rays
on my cheeks and the moon’s cool gaze on my back.
This poem was written in 2020.
Allesha Eman Jan 2021
Oh sunflower soul,  
You chase the daylight
Looking for hope in bright blues.

You tremble with the thought of a dark night,
But the stars have come out
amidst the navy blues.

A crescent moon becomes the silver lining,  
And a trail of streetlights twinkle like surface stars lighting your path as you walk toward

dreams you’ve been waiting to meet
a m a n d a May 2020
i was sitting here
searching for how to
do something mundane.
syncing accounts.
trying to find passwords.
downloading data.

i sprinkled eucalyptus around
earlier to try
to make myself feel better.

i lit a candle and everything and
even pretend made my bed.
cranked the air conditioning.
so i could cool off.
and calm down.
and r e s t.

i took 2 dove milk chocolates
and ice cold water to my room.
i just wanted to watch
Stargate Atlantis
and go to sleep.

lazily mining for data
half paying attention
and suddenly an
  intergalactic time portal
opened up before my eyes.
and boom.
(i'm here again)
in this place
of so much
l o v e
my heart pounding
as if no time has gone by.
as if you had just come around
the corner and i see your face
again for the
first time.

literally tachycardia
a loss of all logic
a stupid, stupid grin
my body shaking
in anticipation
of hearing your voice.

by accident.
gigabyte after gigabyte after gigabyte
                and year, after year, after y e a r
and no matter which
one i choose,

i find pieces of you.
    funny little pieces.
        big, honest pieces.
secret pieces.
my pieces.

tears are streaming
d o w n my face
but i don't care
because it is the only
time i can remember
what it was like.

to be a different person.
in a different time.
to overlap with you.

every click
and swipe

the reaching and
the r e t r e a t i n g.
     the coming together and
the sudden
     a ll
in g
a p

all neatly in chronological
order like i'm
reading my own story.
but seeing it from
the outside.
the entire picture.
and i can see
where i was wrong
   i n t e n s e
and stupider
and flailing.

but i have always seen you.
     always from the
           very first moment.
you were like an assault
  but in a cosmic sense.
and at the same time
a peaceful, serene, beautiful,
rare combination of atoms and ****.

and i don't think something like that
   could ever happen again.
i can't even imagine it,
   and imagining is the
only thing i'm good at.

curse the interwebs,
saving all this ****
i didn't even realize.
and thought was lost.

but also thank you,
google overlord.

i think it's ok to cry
  about loving someone,
and missing someone
so so so so much.

because nothing matters more
  than being honest
about your love.

and then i looked out
my window in despair
and i saw
a crescent moon.
o'er night's dark canal
the moon's bright crescent did sail
like a gondola
a sequential
***** moot
of zebra
in her
quest of
circuit to
make sure
her intent
is noble
but in
her very
nature the
most thrilled
doctor yet
in this
celestial sphere
of Pluto
a sequential equator
purpledandelion Nov 2019
Third verse before you depart,
5350 miles and six months apart,
for green pastures and a fresher start,
swapping the keyboard for an apple cart.

Take care while you are away,
coz this time it really is a land far, faraway,
new pay, new play and new place to stay,
perpetually missing her Kajang satay.

Drifting from your pack,
Don’t ever let ye courage crack,
Straddling a lumbering backpack,
We’ll wait for you to be back.

So go now my dear, I fare you well,
Whatever will be only time can tell,
Whenever you hear the animals yell,
They are just helping me to wish you well.
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