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VERY SLOWLY
How many years have drifted by,
Time rushes swiftly on.
And I, at times, pause myself,
So very slowly I go,
And in myself get lost.
Very slowly,
I take my time,
To lose myself,
Within my being,
Deep in thought.
I take my pause,
So very softly,
I look and listen,
I lose myself within,
Cease thinking,
And only feel,
That beating heart,
That soul,
That throbs,
That feels,
And I forget,
Of everything, no more.
I turn to me,
And let myself just sleep,
Within those dreams.
Sometimes I read verses,
So very softly,
Just as I like it.
Very calm,
I stop my clock,
And rest.
In the quiet of the night, she lingered, savoring a slow drag from her cigarette.
After all, this was the sole indulgence she allowed herself from time to time.
As she observed the smoke swirling gracefully before her,
she sensed a calmness enveloping her.
Gradually, her spirit was rising, and she understood the importance of not hurrying its journey.
She was not just okay.
She was more than okay,
she was truly alive.

-Rhia Clay
Keegan Jul 3
Since I was young,
I’ve lived in the in-between
a mind always wandering,
slipping beneath the surface
of ordinary moments.

I remember being very little,
winter pressing against the windows,
a decoration tapping the glass,
the snow falling soft as breath.
I would sit for hours,
just watching.
That quiet
was a world unto itself.

I could watch the sun set
and feel the whole world soften,
or trace the wind
through the leaves
like it was telling me
something only I could hear.

Time bent around those thoughts
hours, days,
evaporating like breath
on a cold window.

Even then,
I was searching,
though I didn’t know for what.

Now, the thoughts
have turned inward.
Still wandering,
but deeper now
am I growing?
Is this meaningful?
Is what I’m doing right?

And still,
it’s easy to get lost in them,
to lose time,
to drift.

These thoughts
soft as a breeze,
sometimes paralyzing,
always persistent
are my compass and my undoing.
They keep me aligned,
even when I question
every step.

They’ve become the soil
from which I know myself,
layered with doubt,
but rooted in reflection.

They’ve shown me
how I’m stitched to the world:
to the wind,
to the fading light,
to the hush
that follows deep seeing.

And when I return,
I carry more questions
not answers,
but invitations:
Am I slowing down?
Am I really seeing?

It’s not escape.
It’s return.
To wonder,
to stillness,
to the place where thinking
becomes a kind of prayer.
Mariah Jul 2
Take me

Slowly

To the

Place I

Know I

Can be



Please just

Show me

Who I'm

Supposed

To be



Is this

Really

What you

Mean


When you

Told me

I was

Always

Free


What was

I supposed

To see


While the

Figure's

Looking

Back at

Me


Why does

She look

So

Pretty


Even though

She's older

Than me
I don't always believe this. Even still, I've started to be able to appreciate my face more as I've gotten older.

Though, I still feel 18.
Lance Remir Jun 10
Nice and slow
That's how we loved
A day at a time
Falling deeper and deeper
Forging bonds
Every second together
Exciting and new
A life growing and growing
Until eventually
We reached our tallest peak
How quickly
We crashed and burned
We dropped 
Just like our hearts did
A divebomb 
That broke everything 
The lowest point
Is what we ended up with 
Nice and slow
That's how I recovered
Horribly fast 
Was how you moved on
Maria Jun 7
Will you remember her?
She was so fun after all!
She laughed by eyes, laughed softly.
She was so light and airly at all.
Will you remember her?

Will you remember her?
She so loved all sunsets,
Loved stars and caught their light!
She ran away in her sleeps some place.
Will you remember her?

Will you remember her?
She so adored winter laugh,
Snowdrifts to be higher, the snow to be white
And bitterlly cold and not in half.
Will you remember her?

You will remember her!
She so loved to love!
She gave of herself wholeheartedly!
She couldn’t live without love!
You will remember her!
Love is often so simple, so light, so airy, so pure, so real. But we just don't see it. But then, when we remember, it all comes back in our memory...
Thank you very much for reading this poem! 💖
Nastia Jun 4
Lawn mower,
At noon I hear yours echoes,
Like thunder, spread evenly
Across the earth.

Touching you
Always was unacceptable.
But now it's happened.

The wind rustles
My long plaid pants,
Touching the ends of my hair.
I walk slowly, rejoicing at this day.
MetaVerse Apr 30

The shadow of the aloe plant
Is as still as the sunlight
That crawls along the wall.

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