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Louise Aug 2023
Five summers, four lovers
and three checkbooks ago,
I've been here, as I am today.
Same corner, same shade of gloomy day,
and about the same volume of falling rain,
still a one-call-away favorite friend of pain.
Only now I am much more
clever and conniving,
more calculating
and dare I say,
more frightening.
My approaching steps are the pitter-patter
of the storm starting,
the thundering warning of my arrival
is Manila's hour rushing.
Words from my lips
are news you'd rather miss,
however I can't say the same
about my infamous kiss.
I am older, and longer are my to-do lists.
My patience is longer,
but my heart no longer sighs or beats.
Quick cafe scribble
M Jul 2023
my whole life
I always dressed up
was obsessed with how i looked
and now today
I walked down the street
looking at myself
and I thought wow I'm pretty,
but why does it matter so much??

why does it matter if others are more or less
beautiful than I am?
I think
I was taught that my whole worth
was in how i looked
now I am starting to see
that there is so much more to me
than how I look
there is a  soul
a creative mind
a  flawed human being,
learning to dress in many ways
much simpler
with less of a rush and a fuss
is so healing.

I believe that spending so much time alone
while  it is very hard is very important ,
to learn that so much ,
of what we are taught is so important ,
is really very much not,
and the good thing is that people really don't care.

I am working on learning
that who I am is not dependent ,
on if he likes me
or if she wants me
but in the internal worth and love
and acceptence ,
that I carry within myself
and that it is so much easier,
to blame the world for our issues
and it doesn't mean that
others aren't at fault ,
but there are always two people at play here ,
I've realized the mistakes I have made in my life,
I am learning from them,
learning how to trust myself
I think this is the greatest gift of all.
Lydia Jun 2023
when I was younger I had so much to say
I think I overdid it and spilled so much out
I have nothing left in my cup to even sprinkle
N Jun 2023
I’m sorry I couldn’t forget,
but you’re my first memory

I’m sorry you left,
it’s brutal how you
were able to forget
as I kept remembering,
bleeding,
and remembering still

I beg of you to forget me,
so I can forget me too

Let me keep my life,
and you keep yours
Lydia Jun 2023
Last night I closed my eyes and you came to me in the dark, just you in a room where you were surrounded by pitch black
Your face was blank, basically emotionless
as you stared back at me, it was like you were right in front of me and even when I opened my eyes your image was still fresh in my mind
No matter what I did I couldn’t make you go away
I didn’t feel scared of you but it just made me sad
Seeing you morph like my mind was remembering the details of your face and then you came into view the way I remember
As you,
with those eyes behind your glasses that they buried you in and that grey beanie that was on your head at your funeral, the one you wore to work so often, along with your other ball caps they removed from your desk
They told us we would feel so many ways for awhile after your loss
But no one mentioned you showing up in the dark
Scott I asked you to visit me. You were one of the only people I told about how I wrote poetry. If this is your way of coming to me, I see you. I miss you.
Lydia May 2023
One week is as long as it takes for your job to wait before they clean out your things and go back to normal day to day life after you pass away
and although routines, business and normalcy all make sense for the mental health and financial success of everyone else still alive
because life goes on as it always does and always has…
it’s a reminder that no job is worth any extra of your precious time on earth or mental sanity
because it takes your employer one week to move on without you
Elise Jackson Apr 2023
sometimes it's like a movie
too uncomfortable for tv
too important for dvd

the whole thing opens with me screaming in the middle of a field
grass slicing my knees
dirt flooding my fingernails

i am the only thing in turmoil
the trees dance in the distance to a tune i am unable to hear
the wheat looks away in respect
while the mosquitoes become nosey and unable to mind their own business

and somehow i am reminded of when i was young and could sit in the silence for hours
confined in a house with a ticking clock
it's sharp arms slicing into my spine

reminding me that everything ends
the trees will forever dance
and that the wheat will always look away
might rub the dirt into my knees to make sure.
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