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Azaria Jun 9
this year, another,
time grows, yet she remains,
hopes for a harvest,
yet dead crops
in unmoved soil.

the wind carries,
and unwillfully
takes her along.

this year,
intended as the great,
somehow feels like
a bird who's lost melody.

fearfully, blindly,
walks into those doors,
not wanting to go beyond,
yet still wants to leave
those timeless tears.
Kalliope Jun 9
What if I never get better? I can't beat the fear, I never get Noah's letters
What if I'm not the exception? I'm just the rule, ever gullible to affectionate deception
What if the damage is forever? We can't re-fall in love, our connection eternally severed
What if I'm only worth 49 first dates? You wake up on the 50th and decide this life you hate
What if I'm a Heather?  Exploding with you without knowing any better
What if I don't make it out of the car? Just wasted potential, never getting very far
What if I'm a bet you made with your friends? 10 days- I'm in love and your joke's end
And if I'm the bridesmaid, never the bride? I catch the bouquet- staring at you swallowing my pride
Hulu has all my comfort movies
Such a tragedy
This irresistible
Perpetual pining.
Always searching
For something more.

Stuck between
Shades of gray
Romanticizing
Everything.

A blissful Hope;
An endless ache.
Such tragedy
Sealed my fate.

© KSS 6/08/2025
Yashkrit Ray Jun 8
The clock that does not tick anymore,
The sea that does not soar anymore,
The joy that does not roar anymore—
My soul suddenly went silent;
The body does not feel anymore.
Sanu Sharma Jun 7
With a bit of mud upon their peak
a pair of tiny birds ventured into our abode.
I asked my mother, tinged with excitement
“Mother! Why have they graced our home?”

“To craft their dwelling,” replied Mother.

My childhood routine altered—
to oversee the endeavors of those winged beings
and witness the splendid nest they shaped.

Then came the day when Mother uttered,
“The swallows have birthed their offspring.”

Swiftly,
the fledglings matured, mastering the art of flight
and on one uncertain day
they soared away from the nest
yet didn’t return.

My heart echoed the emptiness
of the now-deserted nest.

Mother sighed and shared,
“It appears, the fledglings have departed their nests.”

Weary of my persistent inquiries
regarding the rationale behind their departure
Mother, one day, responded with irritation—
“Their progeny has blossomed into adulthood
they’ve left the haven of the nest
bound to their mates
busy crafting a new abode afar.”

I rushed to Mother
clasped her in a tight embrace, and
with resolute tones, proclaimed,
“Mother! I’ll never make another home!
I’ll stay forever young!”

-०-
Note - This poem was originally written in Nepali language. This translation has been rendered by Suman Pokhrel, and  was first published in Grey Sparrow Journal.
..........................................................
Kyle Kulseth Jun 6
I'm damp from soaking in my spite and
I don't have a jacket.
I'm dumb for eating up your crumbs and
filling up on famine.

Your hands
     are death traps
Your eyes
     are road maps
faking destinations.
Making preparations
     to sever me off spitefully...
     lacerate me, sight unseen

     Our town is an eraser, now, and you've made me into fade marks
     Stayed quiet on the margins til I marked your words and got smart
     Smarting heart and scabbing memories...Already! Let me peel it off
          Let me peel it off. Destroy me and then peel it off.

Street lights are laughing cruel again and
I can't even blame them.
Stupid, I drowned in the belief that
believing was an agent.

Your words
     false star maps
Your laughter?
     A death trap--
A blooded incantation
A prepared exhalation
     So sever me off spitefully...
     slash out my eyes so I can't see.

                                      Claw me up, while I wait
                                      tear every single atom
                                                    I have
                                                     in me
                                                  from me

     Our town is an eraser, now, and you've made me into fade marks
     Stayed quiet on the margins til I marked your words and got smart
     Smarting heart and scabbing memories...Already! Let me peel it off
          Let me peel it off. Destroy me and then peel it off.
Ain't it just the pits?
Kalliope Jun 7
She tells me, “You should have five kids with your face, you’re beautiful,” after she asks how many kids I want and I tell her I think I’m stopping at the one I have. I laugh, because I’m not beautiful.
But I feel seen.

She always calls me beautiful, and I know it’s not my looks. It’s my compassion, my bedside manner. I ask about her day and sometimes I tell her about mine.
She says they don’t talk to her like I do—and that makes me sad.

She’ll tell me about her granddaughter while I prep my supplies, and I’ll remind her to go easy on the girl while I flush her tube.
Her daughter pops in. She knows me by name, wears a look of relief because I’ve already done oral care and tucked her in for the night.
While I clean up, her daughter tells me about her week.
They both say they wish I worked through the week.

I’d like to stay longer, but I’ve got two more rooms.
So I say my goodnights and push my cart along.

She’s on hospice. I know how this goes. I’ve been through this before.
But when she goes, I will miss her.
I’ll hope she finally gets that Bud Light she’s been asking for when she crosses over.
And I’ll think of her every time I prep that room for a new patient.
Sometimes you get the opportunity to take care of someone that makes you remember why you're so passionate about Healthcare in the first place
Anastasia Jun 6
Dad, where did you go?
I hate that you're dead,
I'm angry you're dead,
I wish I could go and rest

In that coffin buried deep,
I wish to travel to your grave,
To dig into the Earth,
Open your coffin and

Crawl inside to sleep,
Beside you again, so cozy,
I wish to pretend we're,
Together on the sofa

Giggling and laughing,
A feeling fleeting so fast,
I wish to grasp,
Onto the only image

Of your corpse once alive again,
That would talk and hold,
The burden of your Death with me,
To  hold me, my daddy,

I wish to open your coffin,
Lay inside and pretend again,
And again and again,
You and I forever best friends.
Please, pick up even if the line is dead.
Ma-kayla Jun 6
We loved like fire,
fast and bright—
no map,
just heartbeats
and Friday night.

You said forever.
I almost believed.
Then summer ended—
and so did we.
A glimpse of how teenage love feels like
Reece Jun 6
I went on a walk,
I found a tree,
In its branches,
Was your face staring back at me.
I began to cry,
I couldn’t stop,
It made me realize how much I miss you,
Since you’re gone.
I know it’s been years,
But it still burns,
I find myself shedding tears,
As the world continues to turn.
I still hear your voice,
Playing on repeat,
In my head,
In a desperate plea,
To convince myself,
With a placebo,
That perhaps,
You didn’t leave us alone.
But it’s getting faint,
As I forget,
How your voice once sounded,
But I don’t want to lose you yet.
How can I move on,
From someone,
Who touched my heart,
Now that you’re gone?
Another poem for my late grandma on my father's side.
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