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You’re in an imaginary war
Against non-existent threats
Nobody is caring enough to make
You’ve created opposition
To your position
An excuse for your loneliness
The excuse becomes the cause
And habit  
So give the excuses a rest
 Dec 2022 Taru M
David Lessard
I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)
 Dec 2022 Taru M
That's Rich
 Dec 2022 Taru M
When I lived alone,
my biggest battle was leaving home
to do the things I had to do in order to feel some sense that my life was my own.

Talking to you
is just some necessary evil that I feel obliged to do
in order to feel like I'm part of the world.

Because the alternative is
a certain kind of insanity that I've
spent the last decade trying not to associate with.

To put it simply,
I don't want to end up like my parents.

And I do what I have to do in order to convince myself
that loneliness is not my fate.
He says, as he pushes everyone away to write egotistical poetry.
 Dec 2022 Taru M
Danielle Rose
Streaking across my window, reflecting light from dripping chill. My breath fogs my vision - I close my eyes - and feel so, still. The patter echoes along my edges as the grey gives way to blue. Caught up in your atmosphere - I bet you never knew.
 Apr 2022 Taru M
i’m becoming an
insomniac like
my mother
fried rice and almost
midnight thoughts
i murdered the life
i thought i wanted
she died in a sheath of
quirk and holiness
went quietly in her sleep
at 11:20 pm
breathed in a life
and breathed out peace and
leftover carbon dioxide

i spoke with your mom
in broken bits of promise
and spanish
i hope you taste forever
in between spoonfuls of
corn, carrot,
and me trying
 Apr 2022 Taru M
b for short
Guided by something heavier
than a final notice or a dollar sign.
It's a power, not for profit,
that's respected silently, without a like button.
It tangles my hair in the stars
as I dream of places that feel like home,
but never visited.
It whispers the names of people
that I know I've loved in another life.
The world is on fire, but
I close my eyes and hear its music.
It hums. I follow.
The world is on fire, but
I dance in its glow.
© Bitsy Sanders, April 2020
 Apr 2022 Taru M
b for short
Rolling symphonies of snores
keep me from a dream as I
conduct their crescendo with a smirk;
barely of a sliver of blanket
left to call my own;
goosebumps on my legs remind me
that this bed is full of things I love
who choose to be here too.
I am wide awake,
wrapped in hushed darkness;
like a freshly dipped photograph,
I develop best here too.
©️Bitsy Sanders, January 2021
 Apr 2022 Taru M
 Apr 2022 Taru M
Meet me where the sidewalk ends and the highway begins
Somewhere between the endless showers of spring and the changing shades of autumn
A place I once knew like the back of my hand
resting under yours
Where we could have sat in silence for all of eternity
If time had slowed down or stood still
But seasons shifted

Wrapped in the dying light of the setting sun, I close my eyes
And fall off the face of the earth and back
Into your arms
 Apr 2022 Taru M
Of all our modern sorrows
Few compare to the sadness of happening  
   upon a space
Once beautiful in its solitude
Now sullied by man and his ever-spreading  
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