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A wish sent with the wind

Invasive to some

A beautiful meadow to others
Stop trying to prove you aren't a ****
Bask in the warmth of those holding you like a flower
its hard to fit in when you carry around pockets full of dreams
and if truth be known you have no wish to hammer yourself a round peg into a square hole. So you wait and search for the way out of a life you really do not belong in, its a secret you were born with, that refuses to be ignored....
 May 29 Nyxa Thorne
Kalliope
It's not loss of money,
not the fear of it not working out,
It's not the lack of time,
never enough to keep it all in line,
It's the day they wake up
realizing I'm no longer fun

She used to smile, and laugh so free,
She used to be silly, humorous as can be
She was adventurous and curious and kind,

She is a woman I miss all the time.
Somewhere between 19 and 23
She lost her way,
Her replacements just aren't quite the same
 May 25 Nyxa Thorne
Kalliope
If you're so selfless,
Why does it bother you no one notices?
2 am
Try to think of things
You might not have thought
Deserved consideration.

Maintain your poise.
Tune out the noise.
Tune into your own station.

Challenge what you think and feel.
Try your best to live up to your own ideals.

Do not
Become the rot
In your own foundation.
 May 21 Nyxa Thorne
Kalliope
2v8
You and your romantic ways, your countless list of reasons, your lovely lilac haze
Shadowed only by your fears there's not a universe where I stay.

Battled me.

And all my disarray
The timing and the distance, my thoughts that force resistance.
My lack of patience sure put up a fight, and mix her with my temper and we'll be here all night.
My fear, always ready to run, pulling me back behind the wall I built, away from the warmth of your sun.
If we matched our armor, and coordinated our attack
Perhaps we could've been on the same side, instead of bleeding back to back


I know you hate that game mode
But I thought the chances were better
I am wilted. I am weary.
I am weathered. I am worn.
I am stuffed with seeping sadness, and stewed in sticky, seething scorn.

I am deflated. Thoughts debunked.
And I am drowned in desperate dread.  
When I soak my roots in water, I find it dries them out instead.

I am wilted. I am weary.
I am wilted. I am worn.
This has many versions. This is the pillar.

— The End —