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 May 28 Nicole
lorelei
when I was six,
I always asked my mom
to check under my bed
she'd smile, tuck me in
and say, “it's all in your head”

the monster—in my mind
hid in the shadows
and kept me awake
left me with an uneasy feeling
I just can't seem to shake

but when I grew up
I didn't fear monsters
not anymore
so I got on my knees
and laid my head on the floor

the monster stared back at me
its eyes colored crimson
but they were meek
not scary, not daunting
just a little weak

it gently reached out to me
with slender fingers
sharp claws in its end
it didn't feel like a foe
but almost like a friend

I found comfort
within the darkness
made peace with the unknown
the monster—wasn't so much of a monster
on the days I felt all alone
poetry is the quiddity of me
it is so intertwined with my soul
that it is woven into my heart
I could never abandon this
it is my other half
it is me
words flow from my mind
and onto paper or a screen
it is part of me
poetry is the quiddity of me
quiddity: the inherent nature or essence of someone or something
 May 26 Nicole
bleedingink
Salt
 May 26 Nicole
bleedingink
Salt dries, a hard streak,
you say it isn't my fault,
but seeing you like this,
I can’t believe you.
 May 26 Nicole
bleedingink
We all walk,
slowly and steadily,
toward death.

But regardless,
we keep living,
even if it is just surviving.
Birds in flight,
black and white
synchronised motion,
sweeping wings
skim the ocean
 May 26 Nicole
Heart hacker
Life doesn't come with a map.
It throws curveballs, storms, and silence.
You take the hits. You get back up.
You wear the scars like armor—not shame.

Not everyone's going to clap when you rise—
Good. You're not here for their applause.
You're here to own your story,
Not beg for a role in someone else's.

The world will try to crush you.
Lie to you.
Tell you you're too much, or not enough.
Laugh when you fall.
Doubt when you speak.
But guess what?

They don’t get to define you.
You are forged, not broken.
Bent, not beaten.
Every bruise is a blueprint.
Every fall, fuel.

So break the rules they wrote for you.
Set fire to the limits.
And walk—no, run—into the life
you were told you couldn't have.
 May 26 Nicole
Blue Sapphire
If I were to define poetry,
I would say,
Poetry is ‐
The thoughts of our mind ,
The words of our  heart and
The feelings of our soul .
It has a language of its own
through which,
it connects with the world.
 May 25 Nicole
Blue Sapphire
When raindrops fall,
rivers are formed.

When teardrops fall,
epic poems are born.
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