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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.
Aditi Apr 17
(Phase:1)
You blinked,
My breathe hitched.
Walked across the room,
I swore I was swooned.

You held my hand,
I couldn't even hear the door slam.
Caressed my back,
Uh-oh, cut me some slack.

You like me, you say,
This is my favourite May.
The background blurs, a halo forms 'round you,
I can stick with you like glue.

(Phase:2)
You won't return my texts,
Don't even give any context.
I convince myself, he's just busy,
He is not leaving me, is he?

You yelled at me today,
Left me in decay.
Didn't even care to apologize,
It took me a moment to analyze.

You say, you can't do this anymore,
They all leave, I have kept a score.
You walk away,
Next time, I won't sway.
This is a poem I happened to write on June 28, 2024. Must have been a good day I suppose. I can assure the reader who has the taken their time out to read this that this poem wasn't out of heartbreak of any sorts thought I like to put other's pain into words. I hope you like reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
jewel Mar 11
those shadows under your weary eyes
that change with every passing night;
line them like dreary curtains, hiding your many plights.
your head still plays that one tune;
and your shadows are like the dark side of the moon.

never the same, as if it were night in a field of rye --
accompanied by the pearly lights of the midnight sky.
the inky blackness of your conscious hemorrhage,
drenched in freezing waters, against the depths of your memory begin to effleurage.

which at once creates a hazy fog in your great ocean,
too still and opaque to make a single motion;
and those dark, glimmering eyes open with the golden sunrise;
warm and blooming, syrupy and glaze

swirling with auburn and chocolate haze.
i can never forget, and i will never regret.
you speak, you ramble; you and your cares;
and you breathe, breathing a mist into the cold air.

you wake, from your slumber in that freezing past,
stuck behind that window pane of shattered glass.
i love both of you; you and your other half --
the reason i break out in a severe laugh.
the dark side of your moon --

the sliver of light that breaking through.
your heavy-lidded awkwardness, a
shy smile, as you grip your coffee -
this winter chill in your bones, your meek and quiet authority.

the rose blooms in your face, when you quicken your pace.
the other is teeming with vigor. he is filled with a profound rigor;
eventually he will intrude,

forced to pay for his life through servitude.
he wakes in the dead of night to do what he believes is right;
he wraps himself in white armor, becoming the knight.
with crimson on his hands and
plum bruises on his knuckles, he retreats,

and so the hectic process repeats.
his trauma heals and dawn arrives,
and the other wakes up, believing the muddled disguise.
you lose track of your sleep, the days, the time;
your pain, the month, your mind.

your insomnia grows at your windowpane,
like a flowering *** of healthy nightshade.
and your crinkled, dusty flat,
along with your wrinkled kitchen mat;
is perfect for a lazy evening chat.

and though you may undergo many changes,
i will still love you and your many phases.
copyrighted, poemsbyjewel (2025).
Imamma Nov 2024
Autumn is here, the leaves turning pale.
Evening is here; the day slowly fades.
The falling leaves, the gloaming sun
The arched moon, the winter's turn
All singing a melody of revival
For death is necessary before life's arrival
Poem about rebirth and revival.
Dario Tinajero Sep 2024
Some say love is not but false

Others say they’ve felt it twice

That even through its faults it remains a gift to life

If I were to choose, I’d see it through

In hopes I might feel it too

That sweet and nourishing touch from someone who cares enough to love

For those who opt to not, in the end is also fine

And wouldn’t rot their chances if their unloving phase subsides

If truly they start, and become open to change

Then with clearer eyes, bad habits they must break

For love is a hurricane, a life changing phase, If you let it be.
Cutezeni Apr 2024
Days feel like months and months feel like years but alas,
only minutes have passed
and I’m still in today
and tomorrow is yet to pass.
But I have tried to move on and be free
I have tried to be better than I am today than I was yesterday
But this war unto myself
Has only ruined me.
I don’t know when the wait will end
I don’t know when my life will begin
But if life is to begin then it can begin again tomorrow
But that’s not the point
That’s not what the wait is for.
I’m waiting to be free
To be unburdened from life’s destiny
I wish to move on to a clear beginning
But to begin again, means an end is to come
So I’m stuck in this endless spiral that goes nor up nor down
Just moves in rotation to complete this circle
But always begins again for me.
It's not that deep.
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2023
The waves are silent. The waves
don't move. Nobody wants to be here
and nobody wants to leave.

There's a man trapped
under his house with an alligator.
His wife does the thin space walk:
an olive, a cherry, and an onion.

She'd sensed his gaze and took off
her dressing gown. She asked if he thought
her bottom was too big, her mind too small.
He said a faded, faulted no.

He's stupid, but he'll catch on
sooner or later. He once saw a ray in her,
but she fell out of orbit. Waxing and waning.

She's got to be careful, after
the sleeping pills and gas. She knows
it's Wednesday because she
took her last pill on Tuesday.

Allowing the world she so painstakingly
built up to ignite and burn apart
in front of both their eyes.
Blue and white
Black and white
Monochromatic
Or rainbow like

Cold and numb
Warm to fuzzy
Systematic
Cognitive overdrive

Day and night
At will
Unflinching
Rhythmic
Serpentine
Julia Celine Jun 2021
I speak to the moon about you
And she's tired of hearing about your phases
We drink to you until the sunrise
When all your light seems somewhat faded
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