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A cloud hangs low, still,
pressing on the city’s spine—
does it ever breathe?
A coin tossed in air,
its shadow stretches on stone—
is it fate or desire?
In the bliss of a given chance
there are heartbeats in a trembling rhythm.
i ask God why he gave me these hands
when i can't even help myself with them.
If anyone likes this I will post the full poem
The wind tears at bones,
Leaves scattered, forgotten flesh—
Roots choke on their grief.
She was a girl with oceans inside her,
waves made of dreams too fragile to hold.
But the world is indifferent —
it pulls, it drowns, it takes,
leaving salt in the wounds it never cared to see.
Her tides fought back, rising, crashing, begging to be enough,
until exhaustion felt like peace.
Now she floats—not sinking, not swimming—just there.
Childhood slipped out
like sand between careless fists—
I never held it right.
He smiled like it was the last time,
And I knew it, though I didn’t ask why—
The air between us shifted,
Unspoken, like a secret the sky keeps,
Just for a moment, before it fades into silence.

His words lingered like a whisper caught in the wind,
Unspoken yet understood.
We were two fragments of something infinite,
Touching only briefly before slipping through the cracks of what could have been,
But in that brief pause, everything felt complete.
Mia 4d
the left lane traveller stays his course
as overtakers do pass him by–
daggers shot through mirrored reverse,
though they ne’er meet his eye

for on his own, and on he stays
forward through by through–
the road beneath him stretches day
from night to morning, too

and on he drives as darkness Falls;
and in each blow of wind
in solitary starlit routes,
the left lane welcomes him

those arrived forgot to see,
neglecting constellations draped;
alone in their rooms, asleep in their beds
dancing a stage, once was raked

judgement passed for driving slow;
for them, he too does feel–
in learn-less ways, then while he grows  
rushed minds, now idle, yield

there, beneath the cold vast empty,
yet before the morning snow–
softly shaded by gum trees, his
arrived finally, entirely home.
The storm and the calm
In the depths of your mind, emotions collide,
A sea of thoughts, nowhere to hide.
You feel with a fire, burning so bright,
A heart full of dreams that take flight at night.

You walk through the world like a poem in the rain,
With a soul that’s both gentle and full of pain.
Lost in the moments that only you see,
A dreamer, a thinker, a heart full of plea.

You stare at the stars with questions untold,
Hoping one day, your story unfolds.
A smile hides the storm you can't control,
But still, you move forward, heart and soul.

You hold on to hope, though it feels like a chase,
In a world that moves fast, you set your own pace.
With every glance, with every thought,
You write a new chapter, lessons hard-fought.

You are the storm and the calm in between,
A story unwritten, yet clearly seen.
And though you may wonder where this road bends,
Remember, it’s you who gets to write the end.
In a mystic haze
Of your heart's embrace,
I attain grace—
Yet beneath that fragile glow,
Lies a shadow I’ve come to know.

For one could not distinguish your despondence
Despite your hope
Let me mourn your agony
In abundance.
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