Stop !
" smack "
Here comes another slap,
Suddenly the barking of dogs stop ,
I look up,
The mirror holding a my unknown pop.

The room is looked,
Yes , i am alone ,
Hands still trembling, stuck in invisible strom.
I hate the girl standing in front of me ,
Still lost , drizzling and comparing both the " we " .

The wall behind still dancing with my old part ,
Smiling , thriving , Carefree , shining,  
With innocent and open heart .
She is light and the only remain ,
Dancing,
she paused and looked up,
Back in the mirror ,
Same eyes , same face ,
But all left is unspoken pain.


the devil drifted in ,
' you both can't be the same ',
Another " smack " .
But This time my heart burned ,
I hate this , every part of it,
I shut my eyes,
Breath shuffled.

On the verge of accompanying the last peice of darkness ,
A shadow stop me ,
Smiling , thriving still the same beautiful mess.
She came close,
eyes met,
For first time she spoke but a torn set.

" we are indeed not the same ,
The war is different but not the blame.
We can nver be alike,
We are rides of same bike,
These scares are no less precious than my smile,
You are the most important part of this pile.
Your struggle is real ,
And worthy as well ,
I hold the heaven, coz you took the hell .

You don't need to be anymore prefect,
No need to stand beside another's sect.
All you need to do is hold on,
stay and led the strom. "

This time the darkness cried in pain ,
with a flicker , i was back ,
The sound of a forgotten laughter echoing in room,
Everything is gone or so i thought ,
The one in mirror still Clutching the gloom.

But the eyes were different,  
The smile was still missing ,
But life wasn't,  
The scares were there,
But no longer burned.

I finally opened the door,
The strom inside still roars.
I walked out,
But now embracing the gloom,
The sound of a forgotten laughter still echoing in room.

Divyanshi solanki

I have to wash the dishes before I write my suicide note.
Put away the clothes on the chair. Water the plants. Feed the cats.
Find a lighter that still works.
A sweater that doesn't smell of smoke.

I need to taste summer fruit with juice running down my wrist and chin.
Walk into the river until the current holds me steady.
Touch someone's shoulder and not let go too fast.

I want to hear a stranger laugh like it matters.
Carve initials into damp wood.
Keep a secret rock in my pocket until it's smooth with worry.
Dance to the music of thunder.
Converse with the beetle on my window.

I need to read the last page of a book in the sunlight.
Collect bones, shells, cigarette butts. Proof I was here.
Take a bus to nowhere just to come home again.
Tell someone I love them and mean it, even if they forget.
Kiss someone I don’t love just to feel the weight of it.

The words taste like rain on metal.
I’ll take a photo of myself and delete it.
Count the cracks in the ceiling.
I leave the door unlocked.
I crumple up the page.
For now.

a beautiful weaving knot of
emotion, desire, despair and
freedom.

To live is to feel.

Here is where unfurling functions best,
Bolts of calico and honest to God purple
Velvet skirted Dine' lady, noble mejor, she

With her Zuni concho belt and squash blossom
Pendant perhaps honoring the blossom, per se

Doubt free, this is us, joined at the verbs,
Linked like fibers in a thread twisted for years,
Followed back, through lists of favorite things,

Inevitably the original grammar **** returns, with a
Vision, made plain as day, once, nations are made of
Us, we the people who use these living words to make

Peace, where none has been, in living memory,
But we pray today, any way, we expect yes, let peace

Reign locally, the whole world gets the idea and
Trumps the fool at the table betting truth is not God.

Sub-rosa, eh, a rose is a rose, Gertrude told me.
The Lie, that all men are not liars, is oft sold little thinkers,
And that is the truth each tells itself, we are chosen ones.