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mary liles Aug 23
in november i stopped dancing
december, singing
january, laughing
february, smiling
and so i shall continue
for you left me in october
and i’ve never been the same
The most beautiful sight
Fresh snow laid on pavement
Delightfully pure
Sweeping your face and skin
A breath of fresh air
baby Feb 21
When hell freezes over

And i can’t feel the cracks in the walls
I’m not sure anymore
“These times are the worst times”
And what comes after

What if i don’t want to know
Why do babies die
When they’ve never done anything
The most innocent
This earth will ever feel
Is when it’s reclaiming
The porcelain faces
With eyes closed

Maybe it’s because
The longer we spend waiting
Like opening windows
When it’s supposed to rain
“It gets worse before it gets better”

But there is no contest
It’s just comparison
Plath wrote a novel
About how hard it is to die
Your body doesn’t want to

But your soul can’t sleep anymore
You are tired
From bouncing off the padded walls
Inside your skull
So much it feels like
Your own thoughts have bruises
Concussions within concussions
It hurts to think
The engine doesn’t start

And every day i try to sleep
Except
I’m still awake
Because it doesn’t matter anymore

We spend our time
Waiting out the storm
(Even when it’s in the windows)
Waiting for the sunshine
But all it means is
The storm will ruin everything

And no amount of sunlight
No kisses
No daisies
Will ever make the floorboards dry up
Will fix the ruined wallpaper
No open windows
Will air out this house

Everything settles
Like dust on the mantel
The floorboards pop
Like the elbows of tree branches
Bucking together,
Shivering in winter
The house is restless
But too old to move
Too tired
Too heavy

And so am i.
There’s still something in it
Us
We
And still so empty at the same time.

If the room is vacant
Is it still a room
Or is it a tomb
That’s been desecrated
Put it back the way it was meant to be,
Full inhabitants
The dead haunting both places.

Because i am fearless
To be honest
When you don’t feel
I am plastic and
Tattered rugs in the hallway
I am
Cigarette smoke stains
Nicotine yellow and
Placid green
rotting from the inside out
Like a cavity
You’ve always been too poor to fix
Yet... not an ache like that
Too easy to ignore
And when it’s past the point
It falls out, and life goes on

No

I am a wildfire
Burning everything alive
And too big to put out
Everyone can see it
Everyone’s afraid
The very smoke from my own destruction
Is killing the skies
Suffocating on top of the heat
Like a hurricane, hotter
A god of fifty thousand degrees

And yet... they see it coming
All they can do is
Hope i burn myself out
And don’t take their lives too

And there’s nothing
No open windows
No kisses
No daisies

Can do about it
JK Cabresos Jan 27
mourning
on the
morning sun

just a month
of a
newly year

already
a lot of
painful memories
has come
Taal Volcano Eruption, Australia Wildfire, Corona (Wuhan) Virus and now, the death of one of the basketball Legend, Kobe Bryant.
Tizzop Jan 26
many of us know this date
many of us probably dislike it because...






good words, likes and hearts were deleted.
so i disliked january 11th until i figured that
god (others tend to call it "karma", "fate"
or "the cosm") is testing me.

every trial strengthens the
spirit of a fighter.
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3461566/spirit-of-the-fighter/

I do thank you God.
Today is a good day.
I open my door - to the brisk December air,
Each breath as Fresh as the mornings First -
Through my Frosted airways -
A Winter Cloud exhaled.
Mitch Prax Jan 1
2019 began
in a shimmer of hope, of peace,
a little light at the end of the tunnel
that was this decade.
And now it is time to
bid farewell,
to not only 2019,
but welcome in another year
and decade with open hearts.
Even if life didn't go according to plan,
I do hang on to the hope of a future
so very far from my past.
Bryce Oct 2019
Is a breath,
Stuffed with coffee grind
Thirsting for milk
And never to suckle.

Is a thought,
A dream quickly awoken from;
And lost in the tenor of real,
Sighs from life

Is a light,
A shaft of gold
worth all the stars
And yet empty

Is a place,
With silent waves and screaming winds--
The ears, pierced with calculated air

Is a God,
Is a moment,
Is a place,
Is a thought,
Is a breath,

Is a time to give thanks to winter
And dance in the snow.

Is a time to kiss the trees and hug their leaves
And laugh
When their cackled, dehydrated ossicles
Ground to dust in our arms

Is a time to worship the sun between the planes of stone
And calculate the equinox online
With electrons and info

With a careful rasp
The next turn of the marble
Grates against the curve
And the Mancala track keeps what it has sown.
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