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duang fu Jan 2019
In the grander scheme of things, stars are just streetlights

Often times things feel like
They’re more of a hurricane
Than a passing wave in the golden horizon
And sometimes they’re too complex
To put into words or fully comprehend

The night feels wistful,
The moon more lonely than usual
And the stars don’t seem to
Form patterns in the sky anymore;
And you wait till sleep takes you away
To another night sky
Only this one is far too mediocre
To hold celestial beauties in its arms

Dawn tosses light yellow powder upon blue
Feel the dull ache of my ankles in the morning chill
Pressed upon the pavement is my single silhouette.
Past the trees and telephone cables
The sky is yellow powder decorated with glitter
The stars are still in the 6.50am sky
The streetlights still brightly awake past their bedtime

“It’s not as big as you make it out to be”, you’d remind me;
and sometimes I see what you mean.

Sometimes the stars in the sky are just like streetlights. Not as grand and mystical and faraway as I think them to be. Sometimes I feel dizzy and suffocated, caught up and spun in the eye of a hurricane. But as time passes, I find myself sat alone on a rock on the sand, watching the waves roll over one another, chasing after the setting sun - and I realise that the danger and the terror is over. Not for good, but it has left for a while - and that’s sometimes more than I can ask for.

In that moment, I’d believe you when you say, it’s not as big as I make it out to be.
written 09 june 2018 ; 3.22pm
Inspired by something shannon barry wrote, which i shall put below:

@barry_happy on instagram: "It's not as big as you think it is" is a piece of advice Elizabeth gives me frequently. It applies to pimples and problems and worries and heartbreaks. It is a gentle way of saying "I know you Shannon. And I know what you are doing in your brain right now. Stop that." Because I make everything big.  So if you’re like me, and you’re there right now, let me be your Elizabeth: hey. It’s not as big as you think it is.
(And it’s going to be just fine.)
Jann Flach Dec 2018
its hard to see
when the streetlights are out
its hard to breathe
when your not here

i found a long lost feeling
deep inside of my inner me
as i am sitting on the roof top
in the middle of the night
watching the lonely souls flying free

a beautiful night
full of stars and souls
trying to connect to each other
but thats never easy, you know that

i am thankful for you
x Jul 2018
street lights
                                      you are a street light
                                                       guiding me
                                 through this bleak night
                                        a fluorescent being
                                 in a pubescent evening
                          so dark
                     and the most difficult part
                is it’s hard to see
             which way to go
         and which way to be
     I can’t decipher
   so I follow you
until your light
becomes brighter
the burn in the fire
the spark in the wire
this flame will not tire
so that it can guide me
so that you can hide me
from all of this darkness
from all of this harshness
so you can disguise me
  into some brave girl
    who is not afraid of this cruel world
         devise me
                   a plan
             so i can stand tall
                  so i can forget it all
                       so that I can walk in the night
                      without following street lights
                 so that I can appreciate the bright
                                   when i am in darkness
                                   but for now drench me
                                        in your fluorescence
              while the evening is still pubescent
Ted Mar 2018
Walking in the pale evening dusk,
as the world slowy turns to it's darkened self.

The last Sun rays seeping from the sky.

The world should naturally fade to black.

But our artificial glow comes to light,
To keep us up all night.
nabi 나비 Mar 2018
i've never been one to have the desire to always live in a small town
to know the story of everyone
and to have the map of the town tattooed to my palm
i've always liked the idea of unknowing
to not always know what's two streets away
to not know everyone in the city
and i've always enjoyed the beauty of it all
in a small town you will run out of views and sights eventually
but in a city, they are infinite
when its constantly changing you can see everything newly
new lights, new faces, new buildings, new streets
change to some can be intimidating
but change to me is something of beauty
and to prefer that over similarity is not wrong of me

I've always had the urge to live somewhere bigger than me
something larger than life i suppose
and It's the night that has shown me this
Once the streetlights turned on and we roamed the streets
I fell in love
Small towns only hard stars and similar roads
The cities held more to me
Was it wrong to fall in love with streetlights?
if only i could insert a picture here. I took the coolest picture of the view from my hotel tonight.
Colten White May 2016
Our last night together,
with streetlights shining in our eyes,
and the evening fog glowing gold.
The coming morning dew
rests first upon my eyes.
Each hour rushes by just as fast
as each year we’ve shared our young lives.
Our fleeting embrace breaks,
falling into enduring nostalgia,
as I attempt to grasp the past fully again.
One last drive home,
rain falling on both sides of the window.
Days fly by,
a new me,
a new you.
Hours become years until we meet again,
our shadows greeting each other,
past and present-
meeting once again,
and for the first time.
You’ll always be that person I knew inside and out,
one night beneath the streetlights.
Ayana Harscoet Dec 2015
bare feet
          concrete jungle
stepping, stopping,
the smallest of pebbles
neon flickers
                                                        ­      do not call after her
night erases the gaps
streetlights dim
                                              ­                do not call after her
she dances telephone wires
       asphalt horizons
                                                              do­ not call after her
even the sidewalks
are silent
Oscar Mann Oct 2015
Like moths I’m drawn
To man-made moons
To bathe in its artificial light
While the rain pours down
And the world runs down the drain

And in the end I end up
As a lonely, dancing ghost
Blinded by the fake moon
A worthy spotlight
For a would-be Gene Kelly
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