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  Jun 17 Mélissa
Cadmus
🐺

The more I understand man
and what he’s capable of…

the more I am convinced
the wolf was framed

and Little Red
wrote the story.

🧣🧣
Interpretations are often shaped by those who survive to tell the tale. Sometimes, the villain is just the one without a voice.
Mélissa Jun 16
The world spins
or I'm the one getting dizzy
It seems
people prefer things
getting worse than staying the same

And the fever of
how funny our situation can get
is trending

And what's with being able to talk to you
when you're unavailable?
Magic I wasn't born into but grew up with
Instantly sending my feelings
without facing you


That makes it easier to do
but also harder to own it

Hard to picture my love
traveling around the orbit


And when the world spins I can look up my symptoms
And hope my words reached
and you deciphered my riddles
  Jun 13 Mélissa
Mia
I wonder,
wander,
falter.

Back — forth.

Now I’m
backed in the corner.
Silence is comfortable
to move in.

For the fourth time?

Back — forth.

Running,
cowering,
to cover my back.

But love seems to burst
forth from my gut.

Back — forth.

Singing,
humming—
it’s quiet.

But it’s sweet,
and now you’re back.

And I can’t seem
to bring the strength forth.

Back — forth.
A cycle too strong to quit.
  Jun 13 Mélissa
Kalliope
If you're a fish,
I'm a boat—
slowly polluting your life.

At first, you swim close,
and I admire your scales,
your curious nature.

But you're a fish,
and I'm a boat.
Boats often hold fishermen.

You're a beautiful fish,
with shimmering scales,
and you swim this ocean so free.

Maybe you'd have had
a beautiful fish life
if you'd never come across me.

You're a fish out of water.
And I'm a boat.
If you're a fish, I want to be a fish
I dont want to be a boat
..when you know it's time to go
and you need to take that leap
but you keep on looking back
knowing there's no chance of change

there is no new identity

whatever is out there is meant for you and me
and the first steps take us nearer to our goals
Mélissa Jun 13
Can't get this page to fill
This pen is bleeding white noise

Creators are made off their failures
And achy finger joints

I'm digging untill my back breaks
Silence I won't accept

I promise
Next time I'll feel the words
I'll write
If they return
Mélissa Jun 12
I'm either

Grounded
Or burried
Or floating

And the world is either

Unmoving
Or too fast
Or too slow

It either
Ignores
Suffocates
Or points its finger

And I feel either

Nothing
Or too much
Or numb
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