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Ophelia Jul 2023
sacrificing values and views
the uncomfortable space left behind

tight air leaving weak lungs
folding limbs like paper

eyes that saw too much
frozen as the witness

anything to quiet the noise
anything to cover the bruises

and the trauma begins again
M Solav Jun 2023
There will certainly be
A great many of them
Far readier than I’ll ever be
O blessed unborn one
Yet endowed with inexistence
To whom mercy shall slip from
And re-emerge in its awakening
Beings past or below my shrinking age
A great many among them
Whom I once did or shan’t collide
Beyond the captured scope of mutual days
To relate to you what high events
Unrolled before our common eyes
Folks granted with the privilege
Promoted to the status of witnesses
Historians, athletes and prophets
By themselves and their narratives
I let them unroll their good accounts
Forfeit their tales of what must be bound
To mould your unsuspecting
Circumspect mind and
Save you from sensing
Delicately sensing
Voices that once knew more
Than in haste speak
Than with haste carry
Daringly could the silence hear
Untangle the mumbling tango
Of the vociferous crystal parade
My darling unborn one
The tortuous path out of the forgings
Of reason almighty, the ventricular beast
Played and echoed in loops and on repeat
No, you shan’t feast on their hymns
Yours is meant for the engineering of belief
In something further, of glory,
Far more, furthermore,
Something extraordinary
Than the days of days
And the knowns of knowns
And to lodge firmly out of the stillness
That’s woven in the heart of your chanting storm
And in the precipice of the forecast
May you never come to designate
But the space between the notes
So that when it comes not to ever pass
We shall rejoice in the untold absence
That binds us as if pierced by an arrow
While we ask about the bow
Written on June 24th, 2023.

— Copyright © M. Solav —

This work may not be used in entirety or in part without the prior approval of its author. Please contact for usage requests. Thank you.
Things are not going in the right direction, nowadays
I wake up and begin to think a lot of things and end the day with the same thoughts 
I'm going through various phases these days that I don't know how to explain
And I don't want to express them either...
Happiness has been something that I can clearly see but can't feel 
I see people laughing and cheering around me, but that seems so artificial...

Now I abstain from being a part of those social groups
Where the use of the “F” word makes you cool and gives you a certificate for your confidence
But I don't blame them, Perhaps it's me only who lacks something
Something that makes me feel alienated in the crowd 
Every day I feel like a glass broken by several strokes of a hammer
But I collect myself again... just to witness the pain of those invisible scars...

Writing gives me peace of mind, but these days I avoid writing down the things
Not because I'm lacking inspiration or something, but I'm afraid
Afraid of the same words that used to heal me before but now haunt my peanut brain every now and then
The words I used to put life in are now attempting to shape my entire life...
I'm feeling like that caged bird who can't fly even after being freed 
Because she's got the false notion that she has no wings, perhaps the same notion I'm getting too.
I have to express a lot of things... might share them in the next part!
Anyway, I'm back here again... will try to interact more often now.
you removed her memories
can never know
that as a child
she was a **** star
the men on the street
mocked that **** star child
telling innocent
she was depraved and wild
they smiled
and winked
the stink they smelt
inked in print
had 10,000 men
legions of them

weapons loaded guns locked
on petite feet

on holey shoes
with elastic worn socks
slide down pull up
scolpamine mean
i mean
Billie Marie Jan 2022
From black robes to white with hoods,
from a red cross to the one burning yellow;
your misdeeds are upon you.
The executioner’s axe is ready at hand.
You must bow. You must confess.
Atonement will be made
and the demons released.
This is how we move through.
There is no more acquittal.
We are here to take back
what was taken.
We are chosen for our sensitivity
and compassion and tender love
for all God’s creation.
We see us in them. We see
all in everything. This is the way.
We are moving forward.
The old ways are dead.
Yes, we are here.
Solaluna Dec 2021
One drunken night,
We confessed our love,
Under the skylight,
Like it's all we have.

The moon was there,
Our only source of light.
The witness of our love,
Is one majestic satellite.

Dazzling were your eyes,
Amidst the darkness of night.
Let's stay here for a while,
For "we"  just feels so right.
After writing this piece a storyline suddenly popped into mind and I'm contemplating if I should do it because I'm bad at writing filler scenes or casual conversations uwu.  A penny for your thoughts?
Debra Lea Ryan Aug 2021
As I  look to the sky
Through the depths
Of the night
I  see you shining
In your own right
For you are
A Shining Star

Then when I  wish
Hope or Dream
Even experience reality
I know exactly
Where you are
Dear Shining Star
You Witness Me

My every breath
That I  take
Showing how
I partake
In a sense
Of being struck
Star Stuck
By your  Love!

Debra Lea Ryan
My Heart Today!
Ylzm Apr 2021
Surer knowledge by cross examination
of witnesses than belief in imaginations
Will more certainty than mindless chance
Shakespeare was a man rather than monkeys
and Eve than washed up fishes learning to walk
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