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Tea
Swirls of fragrant steam
Rise from its porcelain well
A cup of love, made.
Are you so lonely? Is that why you take so many with you ?
But still not enough?
A letter to death..

will it reply?
I'm a white rose,
with a black shadow.
I'm the moon,
with a black mark.
I'm the poetry,
with all painful words.
I'm the sky full of scars,
My heart is filled with love,
While my mind is haunting me,
My soul is Galaxy which feels empty in space.
This poem has published in a book, "Bloom"
On Nov.5th,2018 ❤️
𝑊𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑎 𝑤𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒 ,
𝑜𝑟 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒'𝑠 𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒?
.
.
𝑚𝑦 𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑔𝑜𝑡 𝑒𝑛𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑢𝑠𝑒
𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑒𝑚 𝑔𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛...
Might be relatable to every writers and poets I guess...
I am starting to feel okay
At 23, it’s about time
I finally want to stay
No more thinking of suicide
A way out was always on my mind
But no more I swear
It’s because I find
Joy in little moments I have, this smile I wear
Is real this time around
I’m not afraid to speak up
And make a sound
I can fill up my own cup
I spring out of bed in the mornings I love
The bright sun is my friend
This new happiness fits like a glove
Being okay will never end
Winter springs
into summer,
Quick
as the setting sun.
Summer falls
into winter
Slowly,
and then all at once.
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