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The sky descended its sapphire pearls from its embellished chalice. The pearls decorated my lonesome face, I stared upwards into the grey heavens of solemnity. I was searching for answers.

I felt nothing as the water rolled off my fingertips, those precious jewels crashed the surface of the decrepit earth. This feeling I so longed for, so begged for, so sought.

Empty like a vessel, I stood and soaked the frequency in, seconds that felt like days, time stopped, it stopped for me. Maybe for once in my life I was in control, this was it.

No pain, no sorrow, I was free. In that moment I bathed. Bathed in the past, as my future filled my lungs, I was drowning in truth.

Baptized from suffering, I was rooted, longing for the gods to purify me. I am a mere spec in the vast void, existing, while life just moves on.  

I couldn’t fathom moving on, what good could that bring if nothing in life was guaranteed.

And just like that, the fear crept back in again, and I found myself, back in hell.
Happiness comes at a price, happiness is temporary.
Have you ever considered that if someone is lost, they were once good?
Have you ever wondered if clouds were mists and what raindrops are if rain exists?
It was these nonsensical questions you always find common to believe in,
like when you talk about metaphors, you always think of "rain."

But the moon figured out it was to give comfort to people who truly needed it at this time.
It was unbearable for some, but for you, dear?
For once, it was almost as if you were being embraced by the platonic moon, who once favored the good, and for once, it never happened again.

The wind is metaphorically a duvet, comforting, warm, and private, innocent and cold.
When the wind whistles and calls for the sky, the sky turns akin to one’s warmth of soft lilted voice and embraces the skin of once lost, a phrase everyone uses in things they find wondrous.

But have you ever wondered if the moon has figured out if he is also one of the good?
If he did, then why did he brush off the earth?
He went far away, visible to the naked eye—and never to be reached.

He left the Creator's dearest one, and everyone gets lonely at night, trying to understand why they grew fond of him—but he never once went down to embrace his own kin, yet he left a half of his own, so he could die when the sun arose from his seat, and he could rest until it was his turn to look over for people who needed his company, even if it was only for a few hours.

He knew it got sad at night, and by this time he, for once, favored the good and never to be seen again but felt.
I always love writing about the moon.
I S A A C Feb 19
the room is suffocating, I am spiraling
I thought this was my season but I am unwell
there's so much I want but so little I have
I feel like I am stuck at the bottom of a well
can see the light and life above but I remain in my broken shell
I want to feel even a little bit more secure
I want to smile and sing with the birds
my foundation is shaky, my will is breaking
waiting for someone to save me
I tried to save myself with no help
I tried to love myself to no help
I tried to do it alone with no help
I tried to run from it all with no help
I just really want to be held
I just really want to be felt
make the most of these cards I was dealt
They were too clear
I could feel the hate
The regrets
It felt sad and once I woke up
I feel sick
Jessica Oge Feb 2021
As a drop in the ocean
I need my Ripple Felt.
Amanda Kay Burke Dec 2020
Dear lover, best friend,
This *** I know is special
Like the first time felt
Touched for the very first time
Sanjana Tripathi Dec 2020

There is a silence,
Hidden in the loudest chaos.
There is a pain,
Hidden in the brightest smile.

There is a feeling,
Hidden in the backspaced words.
There is a thunder,
Hidden in the calmness.

Not every silence,
Need chaos to understand.
Not every pain,
Need tears to heal.

Not every feeling,
Need words to express,
Not every thunder,
Needs calmness to burst.

Sometimes things are,
Just meant to be understood.
Not to be justified or explained,
Just meant to be felt.

©Sanjana Tripathi
Silence needs to be understood.
Poetic T Sep 2020
We ponder upon the emotions and metaphors
                                    of the meaning of forever.

Is it our wording our voice, is it a single verse sang
                            within tune with out a tune

that holds our meaning to the here after.

What is out contribution,

      do we sing or justly fade.

For we weren't a stepping stone,
               but a pebble that got buried in the sand.

Now but lost in the footsteps that never even felt us.
Colm Aug 2020
I don’t bleed for you
Burn or in weeping fall like rain
With closed eyes or with headwinds sway
But like stars glistening
With night sky coldly watching
I am reminded
And think of you often
In a bright minded sort of way
Such a feeling. So felt. LOL self.
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