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You're thick but you try,
Often the truth makes your blood thin
Stars die,
Like a whisper in the wind.
There are those concealed truths to control yourself, even forgive yourself and ultimately help yourself. Sometimes getting to the truth ain't ever worth it.
I met a girl once,
With eyes like pools of light,
And as I fell right into them,
Swallowed by the whites,
I saw the reflection
Of the world and sky,
Fragments of beauty,
That shimmered with life,
And when her tears fell,
They sparkled and curled
Etching on her face,
The story of the world,
Speaking softly of all
The places she’d been,
Painting with wonder
The things she’d seen,
She tracked the earth’s trails
And sailed its seven seas,
Swaying from place to place,
Like leaves in the breeze,
And though her feet were sore,
Her footsteps never failed,
Creasing in the earth,
A path that never paled,
And everywhere she went,
She left a piece behind,
Watering the landscape,
With the rain she had inside,
But all she gave,
Nature repaid fast ,
Inking on her body,
A story that would last,
And though she was alone,
Had no place to call her own,
She knew the world around her
well enough to call it home.
Lyn-Purcell Oct 2020
☁️

Today's yesterday
Becomes many yesterdays
Flow like lifetimes past

☁️

Leaving me adrift
As my heart now sprouts its wings
Yet cannot take flight

☁️

Cuddled close by dreams
All I want I wish to be
Then the feathers falls

☁️

Tomorrow echoes
As I reach to grasp its call
I fear the days past

☁️

For dry ink can haunt
Feathers plucked by every taunt
Sleepless heart weeps raw

☁️

Am I of the light
Am I worthy of the heights
or worth a twinkle

☁️

My heart on my lap
Mind abed on sea of grass
As I count the days


☁️
Mini haiku story...
It's one hell of a bad habit, being lost in my own head, my thoughts.
The years have gone by, and I find myself wishing more for a reset button.
Yet, I also wish to learn how to forgive oneself.
Theres so much I want to do, so much I want to prove to myself that I am capable of. I pray that the coming year will be one of deeper self reflection with the goals I have in mind...
I so wish to be a talented poetess for writing has been there for me through thick and thin.
The more I fall in love and improve, the more my heart aches...
I gotta keep moving forwards though
I cant die and not try, not yet,
Not yet...

Be back soon with more poems, thank you everyone for all the love and support, really.
Stay safe and well.
Much love,
Lyn ***
kiran goswami Oct 2020
'Of all the stories you have ever written,
       how many have you forgotten?'

They asked.

And suddenly I remembered you.
Ariana Solo Oct 2020
We tend to tell people our whole story

Without letting them read the blurb on the back first

Giving them the option to put you back on the shelf

And allow the right reader to choose you

📖 📖 📖 📖 📖
Nica Monet Oct 2020
Beyond that fog lies the unknown.
The way it can hide a whole city
may fill a hole in me
bury the trauma within
by keeping our memories blurry
it’s a natural response to forget
to never again recall that story.
the fog in this context can be our own comfort zone. in this fog you may hide but you are not alone.
Bluebird Oct 2020
i got excited by the cut on my finger
and the bruise on my thigh
(got one from making art
the other from chasing fun)
i've always loved that sort of thing
proof that i'm moving and creating

people will learn things about me
just by looking

i hope that they'll take an interest
flip through my pages
hope that my title and front page
can get them to read the rest of my story

i want you to ask me how i got
that bruise
that cut
that scar

i want so badly to tell a story
I was making prints for my art class and i kept falling over while learning how to rollerblade. Loved both things and wish I could do them more.
Zywa Oct 2020
Grandpa likes to talk

about the past, yet beware! –


maybe he's joking!
“Geheim Agent Opa” (“Secret Agent Grandpa”, 2020, Manon Sikkel)

For Lotte Woestenberg

Collection "On the fly"
Kenny Anthony Oct 2020
Tell me your secrets, I want to know your life. Ill hold on to your grievance, and leave you without a strife. Your memories will tell me stories, your smile will show me your soul. We’ll walk up to the observatory, i’ll figure out this loophole.
RCurtis Oct 2020
Tiny lives he had trapped,
inside a big old jam jar.
They twirled and fluttered,
fire sparks of light afar.

His prize possession,
A starry piece of the night,
that brought him lots of joy
and gave off so much light.

Alas, they danced less,
a faint light they did make.
So, in a last act of love,
his jar he had to break.

And off they all did fly,
up into the darkest night.
He turned to his eyes up
and noticed all the light.

So consumed to keep,
a few stars of light,
he had failed to notice
the heavens shining bright.
I love telling stories with a message,  and when it all rhymes its so much sweeter:)
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