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dee 2d
I’m a human library.
My heart is single page with one bleeding word.
An empty carcass pervaded by nothing but
shelves and books.
Cut me in half, letters shall pour out.
Calligrams in my fingertips.
My eyes spell a p o l o g e t i c, in advance to the librarian tasked with decoding my being,
Death by literature, cursive written fate.
I’m a human library.
My brain misspells the word love on purpose
It always only finds the characters that spell your name,
as if it was the only way I was taught.
I used my fingers to write memories in every
system I could comprehend.
I understood what it meant to be a library.
A walking poem.
A talking blue ink pen.
I have touched every pain-cured wall
in this museum,
so ask me anything about him, the pages to my mind will unfold
and you will be filled with the same knowledge
As that of a librarian that used to work in a morgue.
somebody loves me
Artis 4d
Running out of pages,
these words—
they turn into
a jumble of thoughts
no one can understand.
A work of art,
running out of ink,
that never came to be.

Roots—
they never blossomed,
they withered away,
drying up
under a pile of soil.

I'm ripping out pages
in anger,
clinging
to words
I might not even believe in.
One by one,
just to leave them
crumbled,
dust,
turning—
into sand.

The wind picks it up,
flipping to the next page,
that’s already starting to crumble.
My pen
starts to write
on its own.
💗
Trinkets Apr 18
Used to walk through life
Nose stuck in a book,
only saw the world
in periphery of pages.

An artist of escape,
a dreamer in your youth.
Fleeing reality through stories
in all ages.

Looking up, growing up, into
something of your own.
Writing new worlds,
stuck exploring, dreams grown.
Like you did, now see
beauty in periphery.

An escape artist turned explorer.
Gideon Mar 8
Spots of ink adorn my hands.
I hope my writing crosses the lands.
With joy and tears following its path,
I hope it inspires someone’s inner wrath.
Today, I’ll write like lightning struck me.
Tomorrow, they’ll read what I wrote and see
The truth lies on ink-filled pages,
Written by these unknown sages.
Together, the ink, it will congeal,
Making truth and making life real.
Gideon Mar 8
Trapped in paper. Printed. Copied.
Repeated for generations to read,
though few will know the words.
Captured on a page. Do they cry?
Do matching tears fall from both
the reader and the read pages?
Mishika Feb 16
I burn pages,
And I burn my dreams.
The fire feels warmer,
Knowing they’re mine.

As ashes,
They look dull,
Hopeless and weak.
But only those who look close
Will find the shimmer of the stardust,
Full of ecstasy and valour.
Justination Oct 2024
In the cradle of dawn where the shadows play
A child awakes to the world's bright array
With laugh like ripples on a sun-kissed stream
Imagination unfolds like a vibrant dream

Tiny hands grasp at the stars in the sky
Each moment an adventure as days' flurry by
With nature as canvas, they paint with delight
In a kingdom of wonder, all senses take flight

Then the youth comes a calling, a tornado in bloom
With eyes full of fire and a heart like a plume
Chasing the sunsets on roads made of hope
Struggling with shadows, learning to cope

It's the thrill of first love, the ache of goodbyes
The forging of dreams beneath changing skies
With leagues to explore and the world on their chest
In the chaos of passions, they long for the rest

And then to adulthood where the seasons intertwine
With roots that run deep and ambitions that shine
Responsibilities weigh like a cloak on the soul
As we balance our dreams with the weight of our goal

The laughter of children, the warmth of a home
In the threads of life, we are never alone
Through trials and triumphs, in joy and in strife
We knit a rich curtain, this beautiful life

Each phase flows like water, a river divine
Carving paths through the mountains, leaving old-age design
From the innocence of youth to wisdom's embrace
Life's ever-changing dance is a timeless grace

So here's to the journey with each turn of age
From child to adulthood, we all share the stage
In the heart of existence, phase by phase
We find the pure magic in life's winding maze
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