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dead poet Mar 15
she has my voice,
only sweeter;
she has my notions,
only purer;
she has my pride,
only gentler;

she knows i’m hurt,
only better.

she means well;
is it… only a spell?
she breathes a song;
only, i cannot tell —
if she yearns for me,
or only mourns for me.

to me, it don't seem;
but i know —
she's only a dream.
heidi Mar 15
Monarch, monarch
where did you go?
We used to watch you soar
only a few years ago...
while the monarch population is growing, it is still below the average numbers they used to reach.
Selma Mar 12
In desperation -
Here are some words
Written down
To get me through
The night.
writing has saved me many times before.
Selma Mar 12
I used to be able to hold the tides.
They bent to my will,
With absolute ease.
Now, they pull me under.
Deep down, I always knew -
Water would betray me.
Flutter above a gentle breeze
Nectar of life and day
  In floral blue sea
Colors abound array
      Melody beating wings
What flying free brings
Ode to the Butterfly.
dead poet Feb 6
perilous forests
lay bare: sheer, dark, and sincere;
so many secrets.
Abi Feb 4
Don’t ever forget them but remember and accept.
Let go of their fault for when you cried and wept.

Sad to say goodbye but don’t fill your world with misery.
Try to focus on the positives and the good history.

Don’t move on but take it all in and to your heart.
So much guilt with the pros of your sad depart.

Never got to say goodbye in that **** hospital that morn.
But continue your life and cherish it
while you mourn.
This is my own guide since I believe everyone deals and heals differently but this is my way. Take this as you may.
Abi Feb 3
The sun shines bright on the dull colors of the world
my life is full of love and unjust cruelty swirled

Like a moth to the sun, unreachable and dangerous
Love partaking in the risks that may injure us

Though I must shy away and find this supposed inner peace
It’s hard to grow up and turn a new brighter leaf

So much movement with little energy
I hope not to live like this till i’m elderly  

I want to move, to heal, to grow, and to rearrange
I want so much but there is little left in me working to change
My first published short poem! Feedback appreciated!
Falling Awake Oct 2024
Hunting the marrow of my brain,        
Raptor talons feast through flesh,
Shredding tissue with each tear–
my neurons scream.

And as pain pulses in violence,
I’m swallowed by a cloud–
The external muffles, then drains,
Leaving only the talons.
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