Your absence feels like a needle inside my eyes

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There was a girl. She wrote poems
with star coloured ink. She saw her life with butterfly wings. She loved falls like any other poets. She admired the beauty every autumn carried in. She loved the world, kissed the soil beneath her feet. She was distant, Falling adrift with each word she has spoken.

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womanhood and having a voyeuristic relationship with your own pain. am i suffering beautifully? is my agony loveable?

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i did not like to be touched, but it was a strange dislike. i did not like to be touched because i craved it too much. i wanted to be held very tight so i did not break.

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Memories of us still linger on,
That extra finger on your hand, now gone,
I wonder why we had to part ways,
When we had everything, in those sweet bygone days.

I remember those combined classes so well,
And your duties during assembly, I could always tell,
I'll carry that glance with me, wherever I roam,
For it was a moment of love, forever etched in stone.

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I reminisce about those Sundays when we dressed in matching clothes and the evening assembly where our eyes were fixed on each other, and everything else was a blur. We were in love, like the moon and the sun. But fate pulled us apart. Perhaps someday, when the moon weeps to meet the sun, a gust of wind will lift me up, and I'll recall our December hopes. I'll remember my elementary school crush all over again.

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Why is your quote charging money for our feelings ?— % &

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এইয়া লওক,
মোৰ ৰঙাখিনি আজি আপোনাৰ নাম কৰিলোঁ ।
গুজি দিলোঁ বনফুল এপাহ আপোনাৰ কাণত।।

~uddipana

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There is a presence i feel all the time that hum of a song i have never heard before, a bloodred thread of being that lives inside me and moves through the dark tapestry of my life,an energy that gives me the ability to know each other as another myself- as consideration.

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Normalise asking someone who is
genuinely interested in getting to know
you in the biblical sense what they think
of a poem you clearly feel
is important to you.

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