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Philip Lawrence Dec 2020
Winter is near, and night drapes quickly over the city, a black satin

sheath to be decorated by the early stars. But the skyline is

different, the glass and stone soldiers that elbow for prominence at

the river’s edge don’t shine bright until the river blackens out of

sight, not until the soft whoosh of the final ripples from the ferry

boats lap up against the pier pilings. No, the skyline sleeps late,

then awakens not for the city, for it stretches and smiles brightly,

before an open-mouthed inhale of cold night air, all show, an

opening number, a roaring, leg-kicking first dance for those who

stare and yearn, who pine in nervous indecision on the far shore,

tantalized, pawing at the ground before, perhaps, bridging the

pitch water to join the city splash, for if one stays put, feet planted

at a distance, beyond the parquet floor, well….
Francesca Rose May 2020
carefully reaching for your hand
it's the first day I've seen you in person.

I've known you for long enough
that I'm surprised when you grab my hand back.

when I look into your eyes, I see fear, and trepidation, and sadness, but also hope and happiness and love.

I will do everything I can
to keep holding your hand.

you hold mine so gently
so carefully. so kindly.
Jason Adriel Feb 2020
o, this vain trepidation,
the fear that though it is you
who demands sincerity,
you're still treading
on both grounds

and i wound up lying on the floor
beaten and battered. and you're
the one dealing the final blow.
Uncertainty is the theme here.
Madelle Calayag Jan 2020
I prepared new brushes to draw and paint
all the pain and bruises you’ve given me.

Yes, new brushes and gouaches for the fresh wounds
and heartaches that I would conceal in the coming days…

I’ll paint the bleeding sky for that chaos I chose not to end.
I’ll paint those nameless people who saw us together that night, wait, did they envied what they just witnessed?

I don’t quite know, but infatuation can go beyond the sleepless nights,
and in a fraction of a second can turn pain into trepidation and longing.

I’ll give you an exact picture of the hues of gray and black in the stories of ours
which we chose to finally put into an end.
please know that I love you more than the stars, the sun, and the skies could hold.

but I don't know how to fix something without damaging it the process.

you are fragile, and my hands have unintentionally fractured you countless times. I know this, even though you've never explicitly told me.

I dance on eggshells around you: I am atlas, pirouetting across an empire of thin ice, just so I don't mar you with my words.

swallowing conversations and feelings is a talent we both possess. to spare the pain of the other, we dampen the truth. we drink the fires of resentment and leave them to ferment.

I cannot fix this without potentially damaging it further.

I'm a storm with skin. my collateral damage knows no bounds, spares no mercy. you know this. but hear me, and heed me closely.

I don't paint you as the villain. you aren't the martyr. we are equally responsible for this damage and decay. the rot of something once beautiful.

yet I cannot fix something without causing further damage.

we are a two way street. growth of beauty cannot flourish in stagnation.

please, do not test the limits of my volatility. I cannot mend the tatters of thirteen years with a single spool of thread.

I refuse to swallow fermented resentment. I walk on eggshells carrying mountains for you no more.

this tapestry will end in one of two ways: opulent splendor, or devoured by living flames.

I cannot fix something without destroying it in the process.
February 25th, 2018

I cannot bear to lose you, but I cannot journey this voyage across the empire of eggshells with the universe on my back for you any longer.

please don't push me to throw thirteen years of friendship to the fires of the abyss.

didn't anyone tell you that I am named after the Durga Kali for a reason. ?

© kalica calliope
a lawyer's
batch in
a brief
if hiring
direly break
trepidation that
equality *****
when a
state of
confusion interrupts
rights to
a genuine
occupy of
love where
intent only
makes mark
in society
a note on hiring in land of oz
Yulia Surya Dewi Mar 2018
✫  ·    + . ✵
·    .•°•Trepidation•°•.
.      ˚  *     
     .  . ⋆ *   ˚
    .  ⊹

Bunga-bunga menjauh dari jalanku
Membiarkanku seakan kehilangan ragaku
Duri menghiasi setiap jalan
Sinar matahari memudar di sela-sela dedaunan
Burung-burung merintih dalam pedih

Biarlah ketakutan mengambil kesempatanku
Kesempatan untuk kembali ke jalanku
Jalan yang tak mungkin kutemui lagi
Di kegelapan aku mencoba menyisir cahaya
Menyisir cahaya dan kudapati rontokan bintang

Aku takut..
Aku takut pada malam
Malam yang semakin pekat
Kemana aku akan berlari?
Lututku berdarah menapaki jalan tanpa arah

Semua ini tampak seperti ilusi bagiku
Menemukan jalan yang benar adalah delusi
Tak ada rasa sakit, tak ada kesenangan
Namun kesenangan itu hanyalah angan-angan

Aku tak ingin menyerah
Walau kurasa hatiku berdarah
Bila dunia ini berhenti
Siapapun takkan bisa mengunciku lagi

Selamatkan aku...
Keluarkan aku dari sini
Seperti apa akhir dari jalan ini?
Aku takut...

Keluarkan aku dari sini
Ku mohon peganglah tanganku
Di dalam hatimu, di dalam mimpimu
Bangunkanlah kembali bintang-bintang

-Kediri, 17 Maret 2018
Kush Feb 2018
It's that time of year again
And my legs are shaking
I see the same thing
And it's mine for the taking
But my hand, its faking
To be strong
To hold on
I don't wanna lose more
But I'm not getting close

What's happening to me
The curtain is falling again
The show is coming to close
And nothing is seeming to change

I remember the time
I was doing just fine
Everything I wanted
Was falling on my side

I felt it behind me
I was seldom alone
Cold breath on my neck
Cutting me through my throat.

Lust dripped on my skin
Terrifying a part of my soul
I would have thought to call
That memory

but it's long since gone
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