A shining place
All a'gleam
Sadly, though
It was just a dream

A dark place
Undone at the seam
Thankfully, though
It was just a dream

Nightmares and daydreams are the inspiration for this poem

I wish I was smaller.
I wish I was petite.
I wish I was weaker.
I wish someone would be here to hold me and keep me warm.
Someone here to prevent the chills from going up my spine.
I wish I was smaller.
I wish I was shorter.
I wish I was skinnier.
I wish my body weren’t so broad.
I wish I had a feminine body.
I’m happy with my body, I swear.
I just wish it wasn’t the way it was.
I wish I was skinnier, that I was not so broad, that I was shorter. That my nose was like the models from the magazines or that my thighs wouldn’t touch. Because I’m envious of my thighs.
I wish I had green eyes. The eyes of the leaves.. Not of the bark, because who finds bark beautiful? No, everyone looks to the leaves. They simply carve their lovers initials into the tree bark, leaving scars on me.
I’m envious of my thighs.
I’m envious of those skinny, pretty girls.
I’m envious of the model's bodies even though I know they go through hell.
I wish I was smaller.
I wish I was petite.
I wish I was weaker.
I wish I was pretty.
I wish I was light.
I wish my voice was soothing when I sing. Instead it’s raspy and grated. I’m quiet when I sing.. I’m quiet when I talk too… If I talk..
I wish I was smaller.
I wish I was petite.
I wish I was skinnier.
I wish I wasn’t so broad.
I wish my voice was smooth.
I wish my arms wouldn’t look the way they do.
Why do I keep getting picked on because of them?
I wish I was pretty.
I wish I could be loved.
I wish these voices would leave me alone.
I wish I could think straight.
I wish I was pretty.
I wish I was skinny.
I wish I looked like the models in the magazines.
I wish my hair didn’t have split ends or had different lengths.
I wish I didn’t have blemishes on my face
I wish I didn’t say the things I do. Because I always regret it in the end.
I wish my voice smooth.
I wish I talked more.
I wish I wouldn’t always feel the need to say sorry after I speak because I’m afraid that my voice isn’t smooth enough.
I wish I walked, talked, and looked the way the models do.
I wish I felt pretty
I wish I was I was skinny
I wish I could feel comfortable in my own skin
But I’m not.

Alex 9h

Sleep. Sleep away your pain. It's
all you can do.

My heart listens to the sound
of a child finding its way
lost between differences
of the mind.

Over this, over that,
they find a way
into the void,
out of the clouds.

Like an angel getting its wings
a bell rings and a teen
finds who they are.
different from everybody else.

they find their core
and they can only go up
fly above the clouds
and the gates are open.

Open to what they put
their minds to
setting whatever goal
accomplishing with a flare.

We are beautiful.
black, white, young old.
we are told to dream big,
when they want us to dream small.

Because thats how much faith they lack.


My special dream ...

wish i could hug you ..
hold you to me chest ...
to get your lips ...
so close to mine ...
to kiss you ...
as we did ...
there into my dream ...
that dream ...
which never get as it before ...

wish we could do again ...
as that dream ...

yes sweetheart ...
it's the wish which i long for ...
which i dream to live this dream ...
for all my life ...

sweet angel ...
where were together alone ..
some where ..
i don't really where ...
but i'm sure it was ...
as we were in the paradise ...
as an angel we both were ...
together laying ...
under a big tree ...
where no sky ...
nor a ground ...
among all birds ...
flying ...
dancing ...
singing ...
with all love words ...
dancing so close ...
one to the other ...
chest on chest ...
eyes into eyes ...
kissing it other ...
as our lips do ...

Oh babe ...
come to my dream again ...
come let's make this dream ...
comes as true ...

are you coming babe ...
are you ready to do it ...
again with me ...

hazem al ...

She rises and falls like a reposed breath
before an entire world's visage
in her encircled arms.
The incandescent glow of the stage
has an intoxicating quality to it,
the music being
something liquid, viscous.

As notes thrum in tender and soothing caresses,
her legs supple, twirl like petals
cascading under the weight of raindrops,
giving way to a lush surrender
steeped in a language of love and need.
Her very fire
and impassioned soulfulness
lifts her up above the crowd itself,
burning for all to see.

In this moment now
her timelessness enraptures me.
Another part of myself awakens to her grace
and renders me
gratefully whole.
A sense of euphoria slow dances its way
from her being to mine,
consuming every piece of my body
in a fiery bloom—
charging me with
a crackling, electrifying force
unlike my mere own.

I can see now
that this is what she was born to do—
to be on pointe, seeing everything.
Any instances of worldly fear
is left to the dying.
The rhythms of her old pains,
tribulations of past destructions,
are now buried beneath her feet.
And her radiant smile while she dances
still speaks to me gently—
that to be free
is to be wonderfully lost
in her waltz with destiny.

© BT

I'm finally back!! :) The past two months have been crazy hectic with a lot of work, so I apologise for the long hiatus. Here's a longer piece for you to enjoy. As always, thank you for reading dear friends! BT x

Follow the star that no one could see
Should I be the Guardian of the stars
With no light or shadows
Upon my return to the sky
In my mind

dj mcc 1d

Imagine a world in which
you lived in a little house
in the middle of the woods --
an itty bitty cabin with creature
comforts and small necessities,
and paper and ink and tables and chairs --
in it
you slept and wept and dreamt,
and would walk and walk
never finding anywhere else...
always returning to your teeny front door.

The cabin sits in silence,
in semi-darkness most of the day --
the path of the sun moves
l a n g u i d l y
through the sky
and the neighboring trees
cast puddles of shade.

You wish for
though you
aren't sure
what that means.

along your garden fence
you find little bits of paper
or tissues
or wind-swept bottles
butting up against the slats.

The papers have names
and bits of stories:
of shootings and stabbings and
conniving schemers,
of donations and creations
and family boat-races;
and you wonder who these people are,
or if the pages are ripped
from some book you don't own --
and if the wind blows in
toward your tiny little home...
mustn't there be a way
to get out?

I have this dream
In my mind,
That I will leave
This town with the one.

We will head west,
We will stop everywhere
And anywhere.
Take our time.


We will spend hours
In endless flower beds
In mossy forests
In crystal clear waters

We will drive and
Listen to every type
Of song,
New and known.

Yes, there will be arguments.
Nothing is perfection,
But I believe we will come close.

As the wind rushes
through our hair
We will be free,
And full of forgiveness.

We will visit new towns,
Make legendary memories.
Watch the lights of skyscrapers
As one by one, they go out.

Visit vintage diners
On the side of the road,
Learn everything
about each other.

For wanderlust has filled me,
And I dream
That we will be nomads
One day.

Probably 'cause youre high all the time,
Nothing much comes to mind;
But when im with you we just unwind
And sometimes make words that kinda rhyme.
Sliding down the slippery slope of vally,
Without you I may never be happy.
But what does that matter?
Don't despair,
Your future awaits for you;
Someday it will make it's self clear,
But until then you're on the mend.
Dont worry if you swerve round the bend,
The worst has already happened.
Getting back on my feet is the best desicion I could ever make;
I usually make mistakes.
When you give, other's take
But never forget the sake.
If going to the clouds is your thing,
Then make sure it's me you bring.
I know i'm not imagining
Floating on the seventh cloud,
Theres no way I can drown now
I'm at bliss in the clouds!
And heaven feels so serene;
Tingles in every sound.
Whoever said it was make believe,
I can prove you wrong,
Take my hand and you'll see.

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