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Kalliope Jul 9
I made peace with my station eons ago,
Perched atop a mountain edge, overlooking a sea of my thoughts.
I sit on the ground while the tall grass sways,
Knees to my chest, drinking it all in,
Hair blowing softly by the winds of change.
A place made on my own,
Created from protection or fear, origin unclear.

Today's a little different however,
The temperature is warmer,
And I'm missing the slight rain that usually falls.

Maybe I’m out of my mind,
But I swear there’s a boat resting on my beach,
Worn and waiting with patient grace,
Rocking gently in the shallow reach,
As if to say, “You’ve sat here long enough,”
Inviting me to finally stand,
To leave this quiet mountain edge behind
And see where I might land.
I’m ever-changing, though I keep one foot here.
But it’s time to leave now, that message is clear.
This sanctuary was solace, and I’m grateful for that,
But it’s also kept me stuck and held me back.
Kalliope Jul 8
I’m flipping cards and reading the room,
The sun has set, I’ve a meeting with the moon.
I’m begging her, please, take this part out of me,
The part that holds back until she gets up to leave.

I want to be open without all the hurt,
I want something real, something that works.
I daydream and plan and fantasize life a certain way,
But I want to accept it how it is today.

I want to believe the words from his lips,
But I think they’re poison, and I’m being tricked.
I spiral and spin and tornado a lot,
Trying to be brave, something I’m not.

It feels okay until everything is quiet,
Then all of my feelings join in a riot.
I just need a second or two to relax,
But I’m always on edge, and I can’t seem to step back.

Yet I don’t fall, just stand here and wait
For the wind to call or to decide my fate.
Just enough fear to keep me frozen in place,
Standing on a cliff in a purgatory daze.
A little too aware of everything at once
Damocles May 15
Caught in the moon's dead white gaze
I’ve paid my dues.in kind,
To be sent off in this black parade.

Come now, swing wide those gates
A myriad of colors drained in white bouquets

Should the rain come,
Wash over the lye stone, erode my face
I’ve cried into the pulpit of my maker’s feet
To weigh my sins against my deeds.

Walk into this hallowed empty
Gray billowing fog upends me
Lost wanders scream but it’s deafening
Can’t hear the sound of their pallid fingers scratching.

Madness incurable—
Dead eyes mercurial
Set upon dim light,
But the veil from here to there is impervious
Birth me like a newborn
Walls clamping breaking my new form.

I’m drifting further out to sea,
In an endless ocean walled off in opaque white
No horizons to warn me of the fall,
The long way down,
Where the magma ravines wait to strip my flesh
Naked and razed, undeterred but afraid
Will I ever see you again?

Let the rain fall,
Impervious skin along the casket door
My claustrophobic bed
Final in my rest.
Webster's Word of the Day Challenge
Word: Impervious
Date: 5/15/2025
Meaning: a: not allowing entrance or passage : IMPENETRABLE
b: not capable of being damaged or harmed
2: not capable of being affected or disturbed
Kalliope Jan 15
If I go to the left I miss out on the right,
And I'll never know what's right for me.
But I sit and feel doom, and plead with the moon to illuminate what I need to see.

The path was a fork, cut black and white
A simple 50/50 decision.
But under moon light, it's more than I thought, with unpaved paths through the grass that have risen.

A beautiful maze, all of these ways I could get to my destination,
But each road I turn too, the next one I yearn for, so I'm stuck here in purgatory station.
I don't want to be one thing,
I want to be all,
A mother, a lover, a friend, successful
But I can't shake the feeling,
That choosing a path
Puts one of my dreams to an end
I have tasted sweet waters
with crystalline honey and sugared petals.
I have tasted sour milk that curdles on my tongue,
that leaves me coughing.
I had wandered through the moors of purgatory
with eyes like an empty vase.
Once I found Arcadia,
Like Orpheus, I looked back.
Because how could I leave it all behind?
Red Aug 2024
I buried a bird at sunset
To teach its elder’s some respect
As bundles of familiar feathers swooped
singing scornful songs of incomplete youth
I knew where they’d been at time of death.


I denied the cat the flightless fallen body
Siblings guarding silently as I tore up flower beds
With a piece of broken tile and old weeds left in a pile
Solemn is the hand that carves the final nest.


I buried them with nothing more than three sprigs of lavender,
& fluffy baby feathers splattered with dirt
I wished only empty bellied, good-hearted scavengers
Would carry them to a better nurturing earth.


Tucked into blankets of leaves and mud
I wondered what god they feared, if any
Tying twisted twigs together with reeds & blood
a wonky cross to tell the worms they’re ready.


Loud is the crying fowl that pushed the flightless
Like pitted berries bulging through drooling chins
A clumsy stork is unburdened by lightness,
like the absence of young wings in the wind.


I hope when I am weak in breath & bone
With no children nor chirping to mourn my vessel empty
Someone might lay me down with three sprigs of lavender & a stone

And wonder what god I feared, if any.
Jeremy Betts Jun 2024
Everyone that has ever said that they love me
All those who've mentioned that I'm their one and only
That their desire is to be with me, hand in hand for our eternity
All those who've told me that they care about me deeply
But have otherwise only ever proven to be phony
Compassion is something never aloud to me
History is rewritten by present and past company
Because when it comes down to the nitty gritty
I'm just a stepping stone obviously
I mean hell, just look at my track record then back at me
Don't even need a degree in forensic diplomacy
Actions speak loudly
Leaving me stuck in an unwanted and completely unnecessary purgatory
But no one cares about a no guts, no glory type story
No one cares how their actions have affected my energy
Turning me, molding me into the evil reflection that won't stop staring back at me
All sides have proven extensively that I am unworthy of being wanted, forget loving unconditionally
All I've ever wanted was to be somebody's somebody
But everybody says the same thing to me openly
No friendly faces and behind their smiles is a judgement and verdict of guilty
So I struggle with the fact that somehow they all agree
If the problem isn't me it at least resides in me
I've got a penny, two maybe,
We'll find the appropriate line to walk eventually
I just hope there'll be someone left standing next to me
Because an eternity is a long time to spend lonely

©2024
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