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jonas Jan 2020
My body doesn't feel like mine.
I feel skin on muscle
Muscles that move on bone
But I am not truly present.

My body doesn't feel like mine.
I feel hands on skin
Skin that quakes beneath wicked touch
But I am not truly present.

My body isn't mine
Without the tightness in my chest
A tightness that I deeply crave
But I don't know what's real.

This body isn't mine.
I feel a brushing of elbows
Elbows of strangers awakening the memories
But I /don't/ know what's real.

This voice isn't mine.
I speak stories of others
Other things I hope can allude
But none read between the lines.
Written in October of 2019
Tim Jan 2020
I've never seen you so beautiful,
like that distant night,
when you smiled
under the falling stars.
Empire Dec 2019
It’s bizarre
I knew these songs would remind me
Of everything I went through then...
When I couldn’t eat
When I thought I was going to die
But for some reason...
I hit shuffle
And despite the painful memories
The flashbacks
Disorientation
Forgetting I’m not still there
Despite all that
I’m too intrigued to change songs
Listening to some old music I had thought could save me... perhaps it’s the ******* in me
Nina Dec 2019
I'm reading all of our old messages
And imagining those days
Reliving those memories
I cant help it but to smile
And laugh
Such a wonderful moment
And yet
It hurts so much
That I'm crying
Crazy how its just old messages
But im still able to remember vividly of those days
Just through texts
Eloisa Oct 2019
Sometimes the simplest of things spark memories.
Memories of great importance in our lives.
Every moment and each event in our past planted something important in our soul.
Monisha Sep 2019
मुझे तंहाई अच्छी लगती है,
ख़ुद से बातें, सची लगतीं हैं,
बस हाथ में चाय या काैफी की प्याली हो,
और पुराने से कैफे  में,काैफी ब्रू की महक हो
और ऐसे में  कुछ यादें बस यूँही याद आ जाती  है।

टेबल अगर थोड़ा  गहरा हो,
थोड़ा घिसा, थोड़ा मैला हो,
कुर्सी थोड़ी कड़ कड़ करती हुई
अपना अस्तित्व जताती हुई।

कॉफ़ी का मग या चाई की प्याली,
चीनी मीटि की बनी हो,
गाड़े नीले या हरे रंग की,
लकीरें समय की समेटे हुए,
समुद्र की तरह  सब जानने वाली, समाने वाली।

दिन हो तो, भीनी भीनी सी,
इठलाती, बल खाती किरणें,
श्याम हो तो, पुराने लैम्प की,
हल्की, मघम रोशनी,
ऐक अरसे की याद दिलाते हुऐ।

सोच कर थोड़ी मुस्कराहटें आती हैं,
और आँखें नम सी भी हो जाती हैं,
जब कुछ लम्हे परचाईयों की तरह
एक जुट हो जाते हैं।

कितनी बाज़ुऐं इस टेबल पर टिकी होंगी,
सामनेवाले की कही सुनने के लिए आँखे झुखी होंगी,
कितने अरमानो की कश्ती,
समुद्री गहराइयों में निडर गोते खा रही होंगी।

वो कश्मकश से दूर,
पर, किन्तु, परन्तु से परे,
मीठी, मासूम और कुछ करने की चाहत लिए,
वोह पल याद आतें हैं।

और फिर सोचतीं हूँ,
वो यादें रंगीन थी,
ज़िंदगी की तरह, बेहतरीन  थी,
और आज का क्या विचार है,
चलिए आज कुछ और यादें बनाते हैं
कल कॉफ़ी पर उनको याद कर जाते हैं।
A poem depicting the passage of time, celebrating the past but also mindful of the magic of the present.
Mystic Ink Plus Sep 2019
आज तिमी
जस्तै देखे
भन्न मन थियो

म नै हो त्यो
भन्यै भने
बोल्ने शब्द थिएन
शैली : मुक्तक
विषय: यात्रा स्मृति
As a child I used to hide from monsters under my sheets -
They weren’t under the bed, they were in the kitchen.
I could hear the echoes of their whispers curl round the edges of the door.
They‘d often push it open a crack.
I’d pretend to be asleep - that’s where I felt safest;
Sometimes I’d convince myself I really wasn’t conscious.
They’d slither away when they saw no light in my eyes to extinguish.
But they’d always leave the door open.
I used to watch the light from outside fight the shadows
I used to urge it to win.

By the crack of the door
I would crouch and listen  
And what I heard
Was my mother weeping,
“I wish my daughter would change.”
I stayed quiet so she wouldn’t hear me.
Every night, I got quieter still
Until she began to say instead,
“I wish my daughter would speak.”
And I wished I could give her what she wished for
But she didn’t understand
That it had been easy for me to **** her daughter
But seemed nearly impossible to build her a new one.

Things changed for me then -
I grew tired of watching the light try to harness and tame the darkness
(Or maybe the other way around).
I’d before felt things were black and white.
I’d seen the darkness as evil
And longed for the light,
But as time went on I learned that demons lurk in all wavelengths.
I was fickle; I flocked to the winning side.
I became convinced that darkness was safety,
That in it I could project what I wanted.
Then whenever they’d move away from the door
I’d tiptoe to close it.
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2019
Everything happens for a reason,
one of the important lesson I learnt with the change in season
and people.

Some moments hurt, scar and engrave
an important lesson.
Protecting you from future treason
Making you deal with it even better.
Some moments exhilarate happiness and positivity
Fueling you with love and treasuring the memories.

Some people come as blessings
Building homes in our hearts;
Helping us sail turbulent waves;
Acting as starlights in our dark sky.
While some leave us lessons
Vacating their homes in our hearts.

Twist is some, come back
and some only stay a flashback.
Some are are sent for exile
and some come back to reconcile.
People come and go.
Some drawing a smile on our face;
creating a beautiful and positive impact.
But leave for certain reasons,
To those people I am thankful,
to have had my paths cross with them.
And grateful to the ones who’s chaos and storms,
I survived and bloomed from.
Not forgetting about the ones who stayed
even when some left,
Appreciating them for still standing by my side till the very end.
Here’s to ones who drifted and faded. Here’s to the ones who became closer. Here’s to the ones who left, leaving me to bloom. Here’s to the loyal ones, who fueled with me love and strength. Here’s to the ones who who came back, making me believe in forgiveness, hope and chances.
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