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I can see it in mine, and yours too - the corners
of eyes and mouth sag, weighted by our slushy urban slog.
Unurbane, we melt into the night like Dali's clocks,
Counting, counting the minutes of loss.

Soon I'll look into the sun that cleans
every corner and highlights the dust,
and diamonds the snow, and delivers
from darkness my laden soul.

I bargain, beguile, beg for ten degrees
to turn disconsolate rain into sanguine snow.
So snow now,
                   now
                          snow,
               so we may play in the light of the darkest day.
julianna Feb 4
January was the weirdest month
My life changed a little
It’s been good and better and great,
and bad in the middle.
Goodbye, January. It’s been so long since I’ve sat down to write. I guess I’ve been so preoccupied and not particularly inspired lately.
As brutal as a desert drought!
Baren lands, hungry crops and starving mouths.
31 days seems like 62.
A neverending nightmare.
It is a marauding scavenger.
Devouring all that cross its path.

It starts off good with a lot of hope.
Before reality dawns and the struggle begins.
Each new day we limp forward.
MissPine Jan 28
by: MissPine

Just as I thought in this time of year,
Astonished by the new day, I fear.
Nothing I could do, smile nor cry.
Unusual it is, seems that smile I'll try.
An endless vast scenery is where I am at.
Rigidly I calm as I cover my face with a hat.
Yearn for joy, I desire, for one day, I will be.
M Jan 24
as the rain keeps pouring,
she's still there thinking.
"will it be okay,
if i'll be gone everyday?".

she wipes her tears,
forming in her eyes.
as the rain keeps whishering,
"maybe, you're right".
Ritz Writes Jan 22
She enjoys her state of liberty like the moon enjoys when it shines at night.
Just like the wise owl, she observes and listens.
The voice that remains shut
The eyes that saw blood and tears;
And the heart; a storehouse of suppressed emotion ragging in pain
Bottling up for decade.
When Shiuli blooms as Autumn arrives, she finds her solace in hidden words, etched on her skin.
The embodiment of imperfections stitched together that makes her a human.
    
Midnight Story
a o karenin Jan 21
ten days into january
but my soul already
ache for the
softness and warmth of
december; to be cradled
again in his arms
Ryan Vallee Jan 18
tonight i swam in the water
color canvas of sunset
blue to orange
orange to pink
pink to red
red to black
it's almost like going
to sleep
light to dark
a warm body squeezing
back into the ****
maybe
it is all a dream
a twenty-four hour trance
and i'll wake one
reserved january morning
clammy
and clawing for air
els Jan 15
it doesn’t snow here but i feel the cold stinging my cheeks just the same
(it’s good because the leaves don’t fall from the trees. i don’t like watching everything around me die)
my mom doesn’t sleep in my bed and she doesn’t notice the bad days
(at least i’m allowed to cry in peace now.)
the bags under my eyes are more permanent now
(i guess i can only sleep when I’m bleeding.)
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