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Jules 1d
When I was a child, I had all these hopes and dreams.
I believed I was capable of anything.
But now as I'm older, the realization of the world around me finally sinks in.
Those fantasies and stories I once knew became sad tragedies that'll never be my life.
But something in my mind has shifted.
The color and brightness have once again come back into my existence.
Has the world always been so colorful?
It was the way you looked at me.
The look in your eyes sparked a feeling in me.
Almost as a renewal.
My inspiration came back.
And I just wanted to say...
thank you.
Betty Sep 27
Grief is a room

It has no doors

No one can join you

For each of us has our own

You sit in the centre

On the hardest chair

Wondering how you will escape and join the world again

Leaving the sorrow behind

You take the sadness with you when you go

It is a burden all must carry

You will learn to manage the load

One of the many rocks we must bear on our journey through life

One day you will leave

The walls will know when it is time

You will see the crack of light under an exit you never even knew was there

Do not fear it

Embrace its protection

This room

Is a womb
Eva Sep 23
You took away parts of me that I will never get back
And I'm working ******* being okay with that.
duang fu Sep 8
they say; as they force grandma to walk away.
and I down the aisle of wilted flowers
as far gone as my dreams, awaiting
a happy man who will dry tears -
only crocodile, the yellow has
nestled far too deep in my skin
for anyone to understand, but the
eyes show and they know - i am
too far gone beyond the sea wall.
in any case i dress in my shell
every morning in the bedroom
i share with my siblings, and they
quite like how it looks.

every day has a new sunrise,
father never says sorry but we go on anyway.
i crack open a durian and bleed in the kitchen,
it stains my fingernails so i have to carry it
around with me. not sure how much it weighs
and my mother cannot measure it on a
supermarket scale. i flip through papers
to broaden my horizons and yet when
the small child next to the bus window
tells me that he can see everything, i think so too.
written august 6 2019, 6.53am
influenced by the style of ally chua's poem 'nothing in this house works anymore'
inherently i understand that i am enough
but i wish i wasn't as easily disposable
as most people make me out to be
my time equating to nothing more than a block
hiding in corners to protect my back
fearful of concealed knives and sweet smiles
i wish for nothing more than visible venom
please conceal yourself clearly in a syringe
fill my veins with nothing more than permanence
a certain vacancy awaits your half-hearted arrival
during my downfalls into despair
crying alone under the eye of the moon
poison of my own choosing infiltrates my lungs
some nights my liver as well
weighing down what you toss in the air so freely
hoping for something concrete to return to your hands
but forgetting that gravity has its' own laws
no matter how much alteration we convince ourselves
we are capable of
prayer does not tie together loose ends
hope does not resolve hostility
i cannot mold myself to easily accept authentic feelings
anymore than you can do to reject that
of your own
Caroline Aug 27
These winds of restoration
Rise above the rocks of prominence
And drift down the valleys of the Rockies
Like the gentle Chinook in early summer.

These winds herald the coming of the cold,
But in my heart they drift warm
Like shallow waters that carry the sun
To the shadowed inlets of
Hidden rivers.

I will let you in
Breath of rushing things that ends and then in reckless flurries,
Begins again.
I will throw my head back
With my mouth open wide
And I will draw you down to the hollows of my bones
Where you can find the marrow
Of my soul
And carry from it the bitter dusts of regret.

I don’t want them anymore.
I have walked with these sands heavy in my core for too long
And I am done.
I ask these winds to restore this weathered ground to something more;
This wasteland is dying.
Let these winds lift the surface and expose the verdant roots within.
Acina Joy Aug 27
The rain comes.

A lover cries.
A farmer rejoices.
A lost man is renewed.
A friend has been taken.

Wherever you are, wherever you've been. It is the same.

The rain comes.
If you want an anime recommend, watch Dororo, and specifically, episode 6. I got inspiration from there. :((
Don't let your lows
Define your heights
Keep your goals
Set within your sight

Focus on yourself
What you want to achieve
You can bring about
Whatever you believe

Pick yourself up
Brush off the dust
You're almost there
Right on the cusp

Learn from the past
Rise up from the depths
Climb the stairway
Step by step

Like a Phoenix
Reborn from the ash
Ignite a new flame
Shine with a brilliant flash
Eleni Jul 28
And we slowly sink into this marbled universe
Touched and towed by many asteroids.

We are the dust and gas from those nebulas.
We are the blue, green and purple travellers.

Who knows whether we become stars
Or melt into the crawling and smothering mud:

which cleanses life to begin renewal.
jayebird Jun 4
After all i've earned them
the subtle pull
and swift replacement,
    the golden gain gifted
     from a soul dentist
I accept the strange medicine and sense
Suddenly my core forever
chasing the great
sulfur in circles as I fall adrift
    The wanting sleep which
     closes all eyes after end of sky
Behind mine observes a screen of
Out-knocked teeth and offput blood
Pft out in a porcelian sink
The glass just above
displays swollen
  tears and my
Soul transforming from
Learned lead and
cold iron into
August and
Nothing bleak like my
Now unique two front
It takes awhile but
I have a new smile at me
Twist the
Brass doorknob upside down
on it's axis and
Walk away from the abuse cycle owning
The tired metal middle
of earth cracking
Outer mold revealing a
Levitating ball of God who
Now unbound
Seeks six-thirty post midnight
High plains and
Holy painted solace
With bruises yellowing
I scream drive
into tunnels where the
warm streetlights racing in
my periphery
know I am the glowing go of life
And will never grow old despite
Losing a couple given ones
This is a vague story about someone who had their two front teeth knocked out by a punch from someone close to them, and now has two golden teeth. It is a poem about accepting their self as beautiful and worthy after an abusive relationship. It is about renewal and resplendant transformation. The subjects perspective has also expanded past their story and looks to the sky and universe for their source of love. I hope this inspires anyone who has been through physical abuse and knows the struggle of finding their peace again.
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