awkward and easily misunderstood,
he only eats fried food.
hates exercise with a vengeance,
"you're gonna die before me", i always tell him.

he weaves something out of nothing,
in him i found what i was lacking.
pushing through stress, pain and fear,
with pvc, glue, pen and paper.

while the world dreams he's awake,
structures, rhythms, games he creates.
even when he sleeps his eyes are half-open,
his heart in the stars and his mind full of wonder.

to the you who constantly creates,
even when darkness inhibits;
i'm proud of what you've done and made.
you with your weird blue chinese jacket,
unkempt hair and dark eye bags;
constantly tinkering,
shining from within.

Sweet Sibyls of eld
who sing of mysteries held
My envy flowers

How I yearn to see
The written future for me
Miracles and pain

Do I want to know?
What you see in crystal balls?
The magic's in me...

A set of haiku's based on my walk around my local area. A woman was handing out leaflets about palm-reading, the whole sha-bang.
It got me thinking...  few years ago, I believed that people can see the future through a crystal ball. Now, though I believe in the supernatural (that there is something more to this world and beyond), I realised that I'd rather not know. The true magic to make my future lies within me and me alone...

We were like two phrases lost in translation. We made perfect sense in a language that I spoke and not at all in the language you knew.
We were like two stars that almost seemed to be touching, but were light years away. You wouldn’t know if I collapsed before it was too late.
We were like two dominoes, stacked against each other. If you fell, I’d fall with you.
We were like an eclipse. When we were together, I saw you and they saw you, but no one could see me.
We were like champagne, perfect for fancy occasions only.
We were like two halves of a broken heart. We could complete each other but we didn’t really fit.
We were like two coins, that made a lot of noise together but had lesser value apart.
We were like two nights, one darker than the other. But both still, silent, and calm.
We were like magic. I thought we were real, but you called it an illusion.
We were like two flowers blooming to be beautiful alone, but we had a stronger fragrance together.
We were beautiful. But I guess only I see it this way. Because we were like two pairs of eyes always seeing things differently.

Abby Jo 5d

I can still feel your heartbeat
Faster than I've ever felt
Loudest sound against my ear
With my head against your chest, I know you're nervous
You reassure what I already know as you whisper your thoughts
I can still smell your scent filling up my nose as we exchange our first kiss
Ushering me to the bedroom, I feel your heartbeat once again
I can still feel your skin grazing mine as we touch for the first time
I'd swear you were a magician pulling rabbits out of hats
You had my full attention
Seeing you in a new light now is something I don't mind
I can still feel my tears rolling down my cheek as we said our last goodbye
I knew it would be our last.
I cling on to every moment.
The air, the cold December air.
No longer December, but I can still feel e v e r y t h i n g

goodbye, Clyde
Rebecca 7d

This is the life
Of the punching bag folk
Beautifully tragic
They all once broke
Laced with magic
They stitch and sew
Until their bruised leather skin
Is good as new

Daytra Jan 13

Energy between us so intense that when we kiss
the sparks that we create makes
Zeus lose control of his lightning bolt
the heat between my legs gives testament to one simple truth
I WANT YOU
The rise of your rod makes Poseidon envy you
GREATNESS
The release you deliver through
pain and pleasure
is like the
silky caress of the abyss beyond fear

chloe fleming Jan 10

He was youth-
Undeniably naive in the way he looked at me,
Like I could build skyscrapers with trailer park hands.
His smile was sweet,
Like frosted cupcakes and sugary lips that only spoke sticky words.

He was youth-
In the way he laughed, tossing his head back with ignorant bliss.
In his eyes that lit up with the sight of stars,
And him imagining me as one of those beautiful, perfect stars.
Ignorant in the way he loved so carelessly and so freely.

He was the youthful gust of air that blew straight into me.
So childlike in the way he told me sweet nothings like they were law,
And I was a citizen inside of his arms.
He was the youth I needed at a time when I was too old to fight it.
The youthful facade that only lasted while feeling it.

zoe mae Jan 7

the fire is flic-
ker-
ring i wonder how it will be to breathe
smokeless air and
hate myself for doing so

where will this rain go?
it has ruined my dry-timber bones
i am smoldering embers
shivering.

then- clouds clear &
clear laughter.
how blind was i not to see
the magic is not in the flower
who shines the brightest
because she loved the sun
it is in the flower
who blooms
because she believed in the moon

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