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People call me a pixie
they say I'm mischievous,
I'm actually evil
but also quite devious
Gina Mosher Aug 1
By the Blaze
The Reticent Writer/
Gina Fornataro Mosher
©️2022

When all has ended.
When all has gone.
Burn that *****!

You know the one.

Her evil exposed.
Her evil undone.
All memory faded.
By the blaze is the rub.

Her smoke for the three.
Her ash for them see?
Their trauma is smudge.
By the blaze is the rub.

From the one that was used.
From the youngest, are you.
The one unprotected.
The one you have bruised.

A faction of vipers.
Of sickness, insane.
You would not imagine the evil they lay.
Through smiles and grooming their base reflects through.

The youngest now older
Will say this for you.

Goodbye to the den.
Goodbye to its mirrors.
Goodbye says the youngest.
Goodbye to its air.

As the fire is started.
In more than the thing.
Her spirit unchained,
the trauma now clean.

No more says the youngest.
No more is her name.
No chaff in her spirit is left for this thing.

By the blaze is the rub.
The rub is now clean.













#Writings-From-Within
Sorelle Jul 28
Ticking clocks paint the air with time
Zippers drag slow with a mellow chime
Graffiti walls whisper in neon hues
Skateboards cruise under psychedelic blues
Theremin cries like a ghost in the night
Squeaky floors sing in a flickering light
Dulcimers hum a kaleidoscopic trance
City bones shake with its cosmic dance
Dreams drip down in tie-dye streams
Stardust heavy like shattered beams
Baby scratches echo
The bass unfolds
The universe spins in colours untold
Moon winks as the streets come alive
Vibrations hum through technicoloured eyes
Broken tiles sing beneath our feet
Melodies thrive where chaos meets
Time slows down in this painted maze
Eyes wide open in a lucid haze
Clock hands melt feral and free
A symphony born in graffiti debris
A raw, kaleidoscopic snapshot of a city alive in motion and colour
-Sorelle
Monika Jul 28
Isn’t it wild, how the universe misaligns?
Creating distance through time by drawing lines.
You were here before my first breath began,
I’ll spend my years chasing where you stand.

Oh, if I could rewrite the stars’ decree,
I’d cast myself into your century.
A sister, a confidant, your equal in time—
Not just your child, but a partner in rhyme.

We’d share the rhythm of life’s steady tune,
Matching footsteps beneath the same moon.
Not mother and daughter with years to compare,
But living as equals, the same life to share.

But this isn’t our story; this isn’t our fate—
Time separated us, made me too late.
You live in a past I can only trace,
Through your wisdom and the lines on your face.

I'll learn about you by trying to guess,
Closer in age, maybe then you’d confess,
That you’d borrowed my strength more times than I knew—
And in return, I’d say I learned how to be strong from you.

You age like fine wine, your spirit refined,
Each year adds layers, a shine so divine.
But my heart aches with a bittersweet pain,
Knowing we’ll never age the same.

For every year that makes you glow brighter,
The space between us becomes a bit wider.
And though time keeps pulling us apart,
You’ll always remain timeless in my heart.
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