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Rain Jul 19
The space between us
echoes.

The sound traverses the heavens,
and returns to me
in hell.

A lost note,
waiting for twin lips to hum its tune.

A grand spectacle
of feelings that are lost
in the Lethe.

The river now at my feet,
a remedy to the heat you cast upon me.

The only oasis
offered to me
is oblivion.

I drink it in,
swallow the bitterness,
until your name
goes numb on my tongue.
Moon & Rain

A boy gazes at the moon.
Suddenly, he imagines her┬а
the way sheтАЩd step onto the terrace,
Letting her hair fall through her fingers

As the memory drifts,
he recalls how he once saw her as the moon.
Likewise,
she saw him as the rain.

Though he was life┬а
soft, cleansing, gentle┬а
she called him bad weather,
and brought an umbrella.

He/rain could fall on everything:
rooftops, rivers, roses in bloom┬а
but never on her.
(Even though she stood on the rooftop to begin with.)

Rain was never meant
to touch the moon.
*She was never his to begin with
Just feel it
I guess now, the night we met is just a memoryтАФ
    a self-portrait without ****** features,
Only streaks where tears once ran, as the image
   is so blurry, but I still see myself
Running back to youтАж too easily.

ItтАЩs such a sad pictureтАФ an enigma, half-painted
   with eager thoughts quietly bleeding
Into the ink of doubt, each brushstroke pulling me
   further from the truth I never wanted to name
Now it just hangsтАж so awkwardly crooked

You left me walking alone in this gallery
           of only terrible memories.
Ricardo Diaz Jul 14
The rose I threw into the wind blossomed into a field full of them.
The ghost of you still drapes itself over my hear.
Seeing you today fed not only my eyes, but ensnared my soul.
The sight of you was verily breathtaking, as if air itself conspired to remind me of your awe.
Yash Shukla Jul 11
рдорди рднрд░реВрди рдЖрд▓реЗ рддреБрд▓рд╛ рдкрд╛рд╣реВрди,
рдЖрдард╡рдг рдпреЗрдд рд╣реЛрддреА рддреБрдЭреА.
рддреБрд▓рд╛ рд╕рд╛рдВрдЧрд╛рдпрдЪрдВ рдЧреЗрд▓реЗ рд░рд╛рд╣реВрди
рдордирд╛рддрд▓реА рдЧреЛрдб рднрд╛рд╡рдирд╛ рдорд╛рдЭреА.

рд╕реБрдВрджрд░ рджрд┐рд╕рдд рд╣реЛрддреАрд╕ рддреВ,
рдиреЗрд╣реЗрдореАрд╕рд╛рд░рдЦреАрдЪ рд╣рд╕рдд рд╣реЛрддреАрд╕,
рдкрдг рддреБрдЭреНрдпрд╛ рд╣рд╕рдгреНрдпрд╛рдЪрд╛ рдЖрдирдВрдж рддреВ
рдорд▓рд╛ рдорд┐рд│реВрди рджреЗрдд рдирд╡реНрд╣рддреАрд╕.

рдЦреВрдк рд╕рдордЬрд╛рд╡рд▓рдВ рдореА рдордирд╛рд▓рд╛ рдорд╛рдЭреНрдпрд╛ тАУ
рдирдХреЛ рддрд┐рдЪреА рдЖрдард╡рдг рдХрд╛рдвреВрд╕,
рдЖрдард╡рдгреАрдВрдЪреНрдпрд╛ рдкреЗрдЯрд╛рд▒реНрдпрд╛рд▓рд╛ рддреБрдЭреНрдпрд╛
рдкрд╛рд╣реВрди рдирдХреЛ рдЕрд╢реНрд░реВ рдЧрд╛рд│реВрд╕.

рдкрдг рддрд░реАрд╣реА, рдХрдзреАрддрд░реА рджрд╛рд░ рд╡рд╛рдЬрд▓реНрдпрд╛рд╡рд░
рддреВ рднреЗрдЯрд╛рдпрд▓рд╛ рдЖрд▓реАрдпрд╕ рдЕрд╕рдВ рд╡рд╛рдЯрддрдВ,
рджрд╛рд░рд╛рдд рдХреЛрдгреА рддрд░реА рджреБрд╕рд░рд╛рдЪ рджрд┐рд╕рд▓реНрдпрд╛рд╡рд░
рдорди рдкреБрдиреНрд╣рд╛ рдПрдХрджрд╛ рддреБрдЯрддрдВ.
рд╣реА рдХрд╡рд┐рддрд╛ режрел рдЬреВрди реирежреиреж рд░реЛрдЬреА рд▓рд┐рд╣рд┐рд▓реЗрд▓реА рдЖрд╣реЗ
Yash Shukla Jul 11
рд╡рд╛рдЯ рдкрд╛рд╣рд┐рд▓реЗрд▓реА рддрд┐рдЬреА рдореА,
рдкрдг рддреА рдирд╛рд╣реА рдЖрд▓реА
рдЦрд┐рдбрдХреАрдд рджрд┐рд╕рд▓реЗрд▓реА рддреА рд╢реЗрд╡рдЯрдЪреА,
рдкрд░рдд рджрд┐рд╕рд▓реАрджреЗрдЦреАрд▓ рдирд╛рд╣реА

рдХрд┐рддреНрддреАрдПрдХ рд╡рд░реНрд╖рдВ рдЧреЗрд▓реА рдЖрддрд╛,
рдЖрддрд╛ рдЧреЗрд▓рд╛рдп рдЦреВрдк рдХрд╛рд│
рддрд┐рдЪреНрдпрд╛ рдЖрдард╡рдгреАрдВрдЪрд╛ рдорд╛рддреНрд░,
рдореА рдХреЗрд▓рд╛рдп рд╕рд╛рдВрднрд╛рд│

рдХреБрдареЗ рдЕрд╕реЗрд▓ рдЖрддреНрддрд╛ рддреА?
рд╣реНрдпрд╛ рдкреНрд░рд╢реНрдирд╛рдирдВ рджрд┐рд▓рд╛ рддреНрд░рд╛рд╕
рдЪреЗрд╣рд▒реНрдпрд╛рд╡рд░ рдЖрд╣реЗ рд╣рд╕реВ,
рдкрдг рдЖрддреВрди рдЖрд╣реЗ рдореА рдЙрджрд╛рд╕

рд╡рд┐рдЪрд╛рд░рд▓реЗрд▓рдВ рддрд┐рдЪреНрдпрд╛рдмрджреНрджрд▓,
рдЪреМрдХрд╢реА рдЦреВрдк рдХреЗрд▓реЗрд▓реА
рдХреБрдгрд╛рд╕ рдард╛рдКрдХ, рдХреБрдард▓реНрдпрд╛ рд╢рд╣рд░рд╛рдд,
рд╣реЛрддреА рддреА рд╣рд░рд╡рд▓реЗрд▓реА

рддрд┐рдЪреНрдпрд╛ рдЖрдард╡рдгреАрдиреЗ рдЦреВрдк рддреНрд░рд╛рд╕рд▓реЛрдп,
рдирд╛рд╣реА рдорд▓рд╛ рд╕реБрдЪрдд рдХрд╛рд╣реА
рдореНрд╣рдгреВрдирдЪ рдХрджрд╛рдЪрд┐рдд рдкрд░рдд рд╡рд┐рдЪрд╛рд░рддреЛрдп тАФ
рдХреБрдареЗ рдЕрд╕реЗрд▓ рдЖрддреНрддрд╛ рддреА??
рд╣реА рдХрд╡рд┐рддрд╛ режрек рдорд╛рд░реНрдЪ реирежреиреж рд░реЛрдЬреА рд▓рд┐рд╣рд┐рд▓реЗрд▓реА рдЖрд╣реЗ
i donтАЩt know
why i allow
you to step
into my life.

iтАЩve fought
so long
for peaceтАФ

you walk right in
like youтАЩve got
the right.

you got me
feeling stuck
in place.
i waived the flag,
called a truceтАФ

but instead of
stillness,
you chose
the chase.

what do you want,
anyway?

i spent so long
trying to figure it outтАФ

but itтАЩs still
the same lines
on a different day.

i donтАЩt know
why i let you
circle back
again,

when all you do
is skirt the truth
and keep me
in your game.
Some people keep stepping in and out of your life like itтАЩs a revolving door, never giving answersтАФjust echoes. I wrote this piece from the heart, tired of the repetition, tired of the silence, and finally needing something real. Inspired by Stand AtlanticтАЩs тАЬLove U Anyway,тАЭ this poem is my voice in the static. If you've ever waited too long for someone to make up their mind, this is for you.
Yuzuko Jun 15
I am so truly lost in a haze.
I tried with all my heart to love,
But all IтАЩm met with is a lonely gaze.
It just wasnтАЩt enough.

IтАЩm drowning in the waves of a sea.
IтАЩd created this sea of emotions.
Locked away and lost the key.
Now I watch as it consumes me.

Gazing at the moon above,
I see the scars over it.
And start to wonder where I messed up?
Yet, the moon maintained brightly lit.

The garden I called home met a flame,
And now IтАЩll be to blame.
The picture I had drawn, it's fading.

This darkness is getting denser.

I'm desperately fighting.

Reality has become a nightmare.

The dream has grown more vivid.

I'll disappear someday, just like my nights disappeared from my reality.

The things you had promised me have become a fallacy.

Still trying to draw you, but it's taking longer.

Does she still look the same?

How would I know that?
This poem explores the quiet collapse of memory, love, and clarity. Through fading images and growing darkness, it captures the emotional weight of loss, broken promises, and the desperate struggle to hold on to someone or something slipping away. It's a haunting reflection on how, sometimes, we lose sightтАФnot just of others, but of ourselves.
You urged me to leave, to fly,

to conquer this life.

But my wings feel heavy,

a descent into the raw, relentless pain

of a love that both shaped us and shattered us,

leaving wounds that time only deepens.



Music is stained by you,

youтАЩre woven into every note,

recalling to me both what you gave

and what you took away.

Your pain bleeds through every lyric,

questioning me,

forcing me to question myself:

Is it my memory that chains you to the dark?

When will songs ever lose your echo?



I hope you found peace in my songs for you.

And they make your soul rest,

like it did in my arms.

My love falling around you

like a perfect harmony,

a warm melody that lingers,

but that failed to heal.
This was written for the kind of love that carves itself into every song you hear, even long after itтАЩs gone. The kind that feels like both your beginning and your undoing. I wrote this from the space where music becomes memory, and memory becomes mourning. If youтАЩve ever loved someone so deeply that even silence hums with their echo, this is for you.
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