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I’m addicted to memories, they flood my brain
Some cause happy tears, others cry in pain
Long days in the sunshine, the nights we had
I try to remember good times, but there are some bad

Strong memories of family, for all the ones who’ve passed
Thoughts of all the love I felt, I hope those memories last
I remember the days of summer we all spent together
I try to forget the days of stormy weather

I can’t remember it all, I’m getting too old
I can still feel love in every memory I hold
Life is just a simple thing, we live, love and die
My addiction to memories, always makes me cry
Another one of my many addictions.
I’d break into our old family home
if it was still standing tall.
Electrical cords and floorboards;
that I would finely comb.
Searching for traces of us; big or small.

I should’ve taken the tub,
and the dryer was brand new.
I know they ripped up each stump and stub
and the yellow roses the year they finally grew.

This is just a missing piece,
this is where I used to live.
Memorized the trees and the streets,
and the faces I would greet,
to go see it again; what I wouldn’t give.

I’d break into our old family house,
if it was still standing tall.
As I dowse, no sound or a mouse,
was it ever even there at all?

Why did they lose the shed?
Why did they cover the lot?
It looks better in my head
than the day it was finally bought.

This is just a missing past,
this is where we used to coexist,
those rare family moments that I miss.
They’re now lost to the abyss,
I don’t remember the last.

I’d go back in time but
I wouldn’t want to impose.
Truth is the door is shut,
realize that road is closed.

I’m sad I don’t live there anymore,
I grew up; have my own walls and own floor.
A woman who loves me and her I adore,
but these thoughts still wash ashore.
Listening to The Old Apartment and feeling it sometimes.
The home she never had—
the one she always dreamt of.
A picture-perfect, loving family,
with a supportive dad,
a gentle, caring mom,
and an older sibling who protected her.

A home without fights,
without slammed doors,
without the quiet sobs
behind bathroom walls,
or the midnight tears
that no one saw—
because if they did,
they’d only judge.

A home where she didn’t have to hide,
where she could speak without fear,
where anxiety didn’t live in her chest
like a shadow that never left.

A place where she didn’t need to write
just to feel heard—
because someone, finally, listened.

Where love wasn’t something
she searched for in strangers’ arms,
because she had felt it
right there, at home.

She built that home in dreams each night—
because it never stood where she lived.
the home i never got to have
Every starless night arises
The rigid feelings beneath my ribs can't be pared
It is always alongside the beast
My eyes are full of desire
My hands dull and stiff
All I can see is the barren land

Wandering where's the place
I should lay down this head?
Drowned by punishment, I found nothing
In the depths of my deflection, I seek inside
What deserves to be embraced?

While on my bones
darkness carved precisely
The sturdy dance and reckless getaway
Adorned by whisper, the devil's own
I betrayed the war within myself
Back to back, against the storm

But the divine sheds light on me

Leads my way to this home
Where flowers gracefully bloom.

I fight for reborn
Demanding my own honour
by blood and name

For now, I see it
Their existence is my sacred salvation
A reminder that life is worth adoring
For all of you,
My beloved kingdom and family.
जन्म दिलास तूच मला,
आणि तूच मला वाढविलं,
सोनेरी दागिन्यासारखं एकदम
तूच मला घडविलं.

कधी चुकलो तर ओरडलीस मला,
कधी प्रेमाने जवळ घेतलंस,
कधी लागेल असं बोललीस मला,
कधी काळजीने पांघरूण घातलंस.

झेलल्यास माझ्या अडचणी
स्वतःवर तू सर्व,
आईसारखं नातं बनवणारा
थोडाच आहे तो निसर्ग.

कितीही काहीही झालं तरी
नाही देणार मी तुला अंतर,
आयुष्याच्या शेवटपर्यंत तुझ्यावर
प्रेम करीन मी निरंतर.
ही कविता ०६ जून २०२० रोजी लिहिलेली आहे
ASLRC 4d
You told everyone you were a care bear
But you don’t know how to handle my heart

You don’t know what it means to care
Because otherwise my heart wouldn’t be ripped apart

You told everyone you would fight for me
and would go through fire like a bold beast

You only fight for money and power, can’t you see?
You toss me around like prey, celebrate it like a feast

oh you, you beautiful bear, you stuffed with jealousy bear
you use your claws on me, you show me you are the silverback

And you hurt me so deeply, I don’t think that is care
which is odd, because bears don’t like leaders of a pack

I tried to stuff myself back together with needles and thread
but my eyes are leaking and my mouth stays taped

you want me to sit still and look like every other zombie-head
Mary wrote a book about me, in which I was monster-shaped

I wish you held me, consoled me, supported me and not like a ripped bear
because that is what it actually means to care
bella 5d
Why didnt you take my heart with you?
sobbing so violently
my ache breaks
b
      a
              r
                        r
                                 i
                                         e
                                                 r
                                                       s.
windows b r e a k once the note hit me
where my hurt is out my chest now.

delayed-
but sumcummed to,
where my heart is only
ha lf.
sound is silent once i reach our home,
as
     loud
             as
                 my
                      tears
                               can
                                      be
                                           now.
But they cant break between
the b a r r i o r
of
dead and alive,
and im broken but alive.
ur
     dead
               and
                      broken.
ha lf
my heart with you.
if only he **** my art with,
i would be set free,
he and me.

Comfort in no more future possibilities.
a sore heart,
without he,
each throb burning.
i hope till theres
nothing left-
your only form now:
a
    s
        h
        e
           s.
my childhood dog died and it led to dark feelings :c
My grandpa said some harsh stuff,
I wondered if he’d had enough.
I tried not to cry,
Deep down, I hoped he knew why.

He said “Gender’s not even real”,
And anyone who thinks so should just deal.

I said, “They/them” folks want to be seen,
As people, not some in-between.
It didn’t seem silly or wrong to me,
In fact, I felt a kind of key.

A few years on, I learned to speak—
With sharper words, and less critique.

I fell and lost a ski,
The man helping called me a he.
I really loved it,
I didn’t know why but I did.

What should “being a woman” mean?
Does grandpa think I’m making a scene?

I never liked Disney princesses,
I hated wearing dresses.
I did like football,
Gender felt like a big brick wall.

My long hair, was to much to bear,
Cutting it off was a grasp for air.

Now my grandpa thinks I look like a boy,
I can’t help but think of gender as a toy.
A game you can cheat, but never quite win,
A myth I’ve stopped believing in.

Grandpa cling to a truth so small,
While I see no sense in a wall at all.
I am female. But if you approach me as a he or they or anything I won’t mind. I don’t rly like football, and I’ve grown to love dresses. But now wear them because I want to not because anyone expects me to.
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