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mysterie Jun 19
the moon is a whisper
on my bedroom wall,
she's ten times louder in my head

her name is a tide
it pulls,
it tugs,
it etches itself
on the inside of my eyelids.

every blink is a memory i didn't ask for
her laugh-
uninvited
but welcome
always

the bed is too big
for one body and this much longing
some nights
sleep forgets me
other nights
she replaces it
i hope she knows how much she makes me spiral, ive never wrote poetry. ever. this is new, because of her.

date wrote: 19/6/25
Maria Jun 3
A woman, who’s really tired,
Hasn’t even go to bed.
It’s past midnight and all over again.
Her bed’s still fully made.

A woman, who’s really tired,
Forgot what sleep is.
She spent herself but stably accepted
Her Destiny’s painful decrees.

A woman, who’s really tired,
Wants simply and plainly to be.
She stopped laughing long ago.
She rarer wants to speak.

A woman, who’s really tired
Of blaming herself for breathe,
A woman, who’s still feeling,
Has simply the right to live!
Thank you for reading it! 🙏💖
Immortality May 7
On the small balcony,
they sit blanket wrapped,
just past midnight.

Earth smells of rain,
cloud dazzling secrets.

As he leans in,
not for a kiss,
but to give a piece
of his past
to her soul.
:)
Naavya May 2
The midnight came
With a glowing full moon
Nothing about it tame
Cascading light into my room

The world fell silent
Not a soul in sight
As if every star in the sky was compliant
In this conspiracy of the night

The peace engulfs me
Taking me into a serene state of mind
The sound of the waves of the nearby sea
Finally audible after a day of being undermined

The possibilities endless
Of what I could do with this time
With a holiday from a mind that’s always restless
I could dance, sing and rhyme

The calm lonely night
Threatens to disappear as soon as it began
And as I wake up with the sun shining bright
I wait for the midnight to come again
evangeline Apr 20
Midnight started going by Night when she turned twenty-five. She was letting the tides guide. Getting her chakras aligned. Drinking smoothies. Said it was a New Moon, ‘ya know? A blank slate. A fresh canvas. Said this would make her whole.

Maybe it’ll stick. Maybe this new dawn will be the last. Only Earth knows, of course. But I heard through the grapevine that Daylight’s been saying it’s just a phase.
late-night prose. my birthday is coming up. getting older is strange and beautiful.
All midnight long
Singing a love song
With the Midnight rain

Reynaldo Casison
Lostling Apr 18
Tick... tock...
Tick... tock...
Silent, the world sleeps
Tick... tock...
Tick... tock...
Stars observe the veil of days
Tick... tock...
Tick... tock...
As child watched from bed
Tick... tock...
Tick... tock...
Can't sleep
Lets love ourselves
Without a single care or worry
Slow down all the hurry
Things arent quite the same

With sublime honey
The sturdy and awkward
maple trees
A candelabra of candle stars
The moon blushes
Like exotic ballerina roses
With the Midnights
Illuminating clouds of blue

Lets love ourselves like the moonlight
Roses swaying in the caresses
Of salsa dream
It could be pretty surreal
To feel her love is real
WithIn your love my love
WithIn my love your love
WithIn Sweet flowers
WithIn
Heavenly stars our love

Reynaldo Casison
And when the midnight unwinds
It has come
Like waves
To luminous shore
More to sigh
than to say
Golden solitudes
To Caress with the sublime
And chimes
Of our Loves rhymes
To Soothe

Reynaldo Casison
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