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I accepted the death
I just need the scent
of the things you left
the end is nothing,
I don't care about it
what I can't handle
is a hope;
with an insane,
exhausted tremor
I slam the door
beyond which there's nothing more
than the dust over the things you left;
tell me it's all over,
that I can rest,
cover my eyes
and close the door.
avoiding everything of the person you're mourning
What's saddest?
The memories or the people?
Maybe it's hard to decide,
Yet all we have are memories.

Remembering those days,
The month of March,
The flow of Bordoisila,
The old hut, and the real people.

The thrilling sound of the wind,
Fear in our faces,
The destruction it left behind.
Hand in hand, shoulders touching-
Do you remember?

In the dark, lighting up candles,
Fear and joy intertwined.
Yet those days were beautiful-
When love and care were pure.

I remember, hiding beside the window,
Staring at the scary nights.
Cold wind carrying dry leaves,
Lightning streaking through the sky,
Sudden beats in our hearts!
Yet those days were too beautiful to explain.

Where are those winds now?
Maybe a transient gift,
One I never understood until I turned eighteen.
Now all I have left
Are memories... and memories.
Bordoisila: In Assamese culture, Bordoisila is a pre-monsoon storm that brings with it fierce winds and rains, usually occurring in the month of March. It's considered both a force of destruction and renewal. According to folklore, Bordoisila represents a powerful mythical being who returns to her mother's house, causing the stormy weather as she travels. The storm is a symbol of nature's raw power but also carries a nostalgic and cultural significance, especially for those who've grown up experiencing it firsthand
Jamesb Sep 14
Hug
I am the giver of hugs,
The dispenser of caressing comfort,
The holder of those in need,
The squeezer out of pain and sorrow,
The shutter out of this world and its woe,
If only for a moment a head Upon my shoulder
Is free of sadness and sorrow,
Free of fear and frustration,
Safety resides within my embrace,
Sanctuary whence nowt can reach thee,

But right now it's the hugger
In hugging need,
That tap gushing
From a bottomless jug has
Just a hint of falter,
A tiniest reduction of pressure,
Insufficient for regard by others
But keenly felt by me,
Hints at limits being reached,
And I rail against that potential
Failure to project and protect,

So here I am,
Pouring out hugs,
While inside every sinew
Screams for someone,
Anyone in fact, to see ME,
See the pain and need,
See my faltering heart
And hope,
And step up,
Wrap me in THEIR arms,
Hold me and heal MY broken
Worn out heart a bit,

So I can hold and heal
Those many more
Still in need.
I think this verse speaks for itself
H AE MZ Sep 14
One inhale, you take me.
Take me away from —
Life, to live as death.

One inhale, you make me.
Make me forget to —
Live, and numb my mind.

One inhale, you push me.
Push me away from —
Love, to feel only hate.

One inhale, you change me.
Change all of me, into—
Self-hate, into isolation.

One inhale, you suffocate me.
Suffocate my thoughts, until—
Silence is all I know, a hollow echo.

One inhale, you leave me.
Leave me trapped, in—
Clouds of ash, broken lungs screaming.

One inhale, you break me.
Break my will, to—
Hope for breath beyond you.

One exhale, I see you.
See you for what you are—
A thief, robbing me of time, of peace.

One inhale, you poison me.
Poison my thoughts, until—
I lose sight of myself in your smoke.

One exhale, I reclaim me.
Reclaim my life, my time—
Breathing out your lies, breathing in truth.

No more inhales, no more lies.
I reclaim the air—
And breathe without your weight.
This poem is my personal reflection on the damage smoking has caused in my life. For years, I let it control me, numb me, and take me away from the things that truly mattered. Through each inhale, I lost a part of myself—time, love, and peace—until I was left suffocated and isolated. The poem's shift to "exhale" marks the moment I started seeing the truth: smoking was a thief, stealing my life. Now, as I reclaim my breath and my freedom, I am choosing to move forward without the weight of addiction. This is my journey of regret, anger at the time I've lost, and the hope I now feel as I take back control.
Arturo Sep 11
Waking
Dragging
Wanting
Hoping.

So much more to life.

Seeing the trouble
Not knowing what to do…

Waiting
Dragging
Hoping
Wanting.
Bhavani Sep 10
healing;
excited to work again;
my best shot.
Upon singed wings i flew
Out of a blackened sky
Into a world brand new
Sailing on healing wings.

Viewing eternal through
Filters of life and spirit--
A somewhat darker hue
Compared to what's in store!

This light filled my eyes
As it gently blinded me--
Burned off thick scales of lies
As I began to clearly see

We are spirit's with bodies
Not the other way around.
Subject to carnal folly--
Diseases of pleasure & pain.

Perception gauging flow
In mind's clockwork askew--
Neutralizing eternal spiritual
Validating only the temporal.
©2024 Daniel Irwin Tucker

The continuing development of the inner world arising to restore that which was lost in a lost world.
Kay Sep 9
Sure I've been in love before
But never like this
Your love is so kind
Like a salve to my burns
You take care of me
With your words and your actions
Yet it makes me feel so broken
How do I act
What do I say
It never feels enough
I'm trying to learn this new love
This right love
But how do I show you
That with all your actions
Your slowly healing me
How do I show you
That I love you so dearly
emelie Sep 7
a soft breeze rustles through the trees,
a gentle whisper, a comforting ease.
in nature's embrace, a soul finds peace,
a quiet solace, a sweet release
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