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  Jul 31 OpenWorldView

like love. like time. like her.

little flame quivers and sighs
she glows a warm amber,
and her light is welcome;
it awakens plumes of dust,
casts shadows on the
walls and floors
where memories forever sleep.

the table is piled high with boxes bearing
clothes she had sewn and hemmed
for growing legs,
broken and mended china,
and boxes filled with
a volume of aged letters –
written in last year's bleeding ink
and sealed with a memory.

and her last syllables form words in mind:

~“we will all burn away,
but I will be with you until morning arrives,
on its withering arms of gold,
and I will be standing there,
rose in hand,

and I will give to you in death
what I could not in life.”
OpenWorldView Jul 25
blue shreds broken glass
cut deep red to find lost love
boundless black void spills
  Jul 25 OpenWorldView
One night, Depression knocks on my door
So I let it in, without knowing its identity.
I let it in, because I think it needs my help.
I let it in, and then it reveals its personality.
Depression is an earthquake I don’t know when will come,
But when it appears, it creates havoc I don’t know where it comes from.
Depression is a rain of tears,
And when time passes by, it becomes storm and my great fear.
Depression is a sad and tragic movie
That makes my tears fall freely and rapidly.
Yes, it is a sad movie that makes me cry at night,
And I don’t know why I’m doing so, and I can’t understand this plight.
Depression is a brother of anxiety
Who can just knock me down easily.
Depression is a friend I want my mother to know
But she just says, “Let your stupidity go!”
Depression is the handcuffs locked on my wrist
That I don’t even know it still exists
Depression is the coffee that stops me to sleep at night.
Depression is the onion that can easily make me cry.
Depression is the voice ringing in my head.
Depression is the monster under my bed.
Depression is a car in a parking lot,
And I’m the parking lot I don’t want to be at.
Depression is the ghost that haunts a house
Although, I’m the house I don’t want to live at.
Depression is a star that always stays in the sky
And, I’m the sky I don’t want to look at.
Depression is a silly child who asks me
“Are you tired of living?”
But I just answer with
“I’m tired of Dying!”
Because Depression kills me everyday.
Depression makes me feel I’m already dead.
It is a bullet that in my heart forever stays.
It is a vicious, painful word forever said.
Depression is not a treasure from a chest.
Depression is not a kind guest.
So, when Depression knocks on your door,
Don’t open it, if you don’t want to have a deadly tour,
Because when Depression knocks on your door,
It wants to make you feel lonely until you don’t know why you’re lonely anymore.
Inspired by Sabrina Benaim's spoken word poetry "Explaining My Depression To My Mother" on Youtube.
OpenWorldView Jul 24
etched into my mind
you fill my dreams with pure love
let us never wake
escaping reality
OpenWorldView Jul 13
when words are targets
the truth remains unspoken
and progress will stall
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