Puis il y avait de la chaleur,

un bassin de beauté trouve en vous;

dans votre toucher, votre sourire.

Votre amour m’a apporté la magie

à ma vie, même quand je pensais

que j’étais perdu dans les falaises;

perdu aux fins.

Then there was warmth,

a pool of beauty found within you;

within your touch, your smile.

Your loving me brought magic

to my life even when I thought

I was lost to the cliffs;

lost to the endings.

ReBecca DeFazio

More Than a Flower

Sinking Like Quicksand

I rusted like metal
left out to the rain.
Neglected I’m left
once again.

With no one to help,
I fell deep into the abyss.

Sinking;

in this quicksand
that pulls me under.
With a seemingly
unending hunger.

Shadows Of A Ghost.

This darkness is so vast
I feel like I’m falling so fast.
And with every fall I fear
I’ll never make it out of here.
That one day you’ll wake and
I’ll simply disappear,
as if I was never really here.

Sometimes I Wonder..

Sometimes I wonder,
if you ever feel remorse
or understand the gravity
of the pain your actions caused.

I don’t think you do
or you wouldn’t continue,
to put me through the daily abuse.

Sometimes I wonder,
if you could go back
would you do it all over again?
If you knew now what you didn’t back then?

The Men Around Me

All the men around me
have taught me to hate,
taught me to be afraid.

All I’ve learnt is to obey,
I learnt that the hard way -
Don’t fight back, keep quiet
be a good girl now.

All the men around me
have taught me to hate,
taught me to be afraid.

All I’ve learnt is to hide;
Underneath so many layers
I wasn’t sure I’d ever be seen,
But you did.

You saw me & I thought 
I’d found a ‘Good one’.
But I’m starting to see 
I’m just living life to repeat.

All the men around me
have taught me to hate,
taught me to be afraid.

We are not alone

As long as the moon keeps us company at sleepless nights

And the rustling leaves whisper our names

While the wind caresses our skin

We are not alone

I hope you like this excerpt of my Escapril poem! Never miss a poem or a short story I write! Comment +if you want to be added or -to be removed from my tag list (under the cut).

@matcha-chai@dg-fragments@silversynthesis@heartofmuse@scatteredthoughts2@rhapsodyinblue80@alaskaisnothere@stoic-words@september-stardust@wordsforsadpeeps@writingitdown@intothevortex@aubriestar@warriorbookworm@raevenlywrites@alex-a-roman@artsymagee@giantrobocock@theheightofdepression@writing-is-a-martial-art@beautifulimposter25@callmepippin@a-musingmichelle@kirkshiresloss@rhythmiccreatorofbeuty@tini-ya-smol-beany@eos-writes

NaPoWriMo/ Escapril

So I’ve compiled this list just in case someone wants to read what I write this month. I’m trying to participate in Escapril on Instagram and NaPoWriMo on Tumblr. So far, I’m doing okay. It turns out that when you write a poem every day, most turn out unreadable, so I might only publish every third poem I write. Enough babbling! Read my poems by clicking on the links below.

• When I open my eyes
• Strange behaviour
• Limbs longing
• Body swap
• We are not alone
• __ as medicine
• Lost

Never miss a poem or a short story I write! Comment + if you want to be added or-to be removed from my tag list (under the cut).

@matcha-chai@dg-fragments@silversynthesis@heartofmuse@scatteredthoughts2@rhapsodyinblue80@alaskaisnothere@stoic-words@september-stardust@wordsforsadpeeps@writingitdown@intothevortex@aubriestar@warriorbookworm@raevenlywrites@alex-a-roman@artsymagee@giantrobocock@theheightofdepression@writing-is-a-martial-art@beautifulimposter25@callmepippin@a-musingmichelle@kirkshiresloss@rhythmiccreatorofbeuty@tini-ya-smol-beany@eos-writes

on days i don’t imagine much

i try to manage to imagine paradise

and that’s enough

to make my own magic

our next sessions are Saturday, April 9, 2022!! (8:30am and 8:30pm EST). Hang out with us on Zoom - password: 071120

all are welcome, whether you’ve read aloud before or are a complete newbie - message me or my co-host @emipoemi if you’d like to join in or have any questions, and check my pinned post or Instagram stories for the latest info

our sessions are super casual and a lot of fun! they run for around 2hrs, so pop in anytime for as long as you can. it’s a great opportunity to listen to other poets, make some friends and maybe learn a little something about how different people write along the way.

We are quiet lovers, free in the streets. We hold hands under tables, and make love in the light. We carry each other’s secrets along with the weight of a world. We hang onto hope, dangle on dreams, we sleep in the clouds and string together our seams. We fight for the good, bury the bad and fix the broken. We’ve learned to strip the lies, fish out the sadness in our eyes. My love, with you I have grown. With you, I found a home. In your arms we formed a shelter, in my limbs I tangle you before you tear. Every word I kept locked in my throat, you’ve heard, you’ve read. Every moment I dread and fear, you make sure to be here. You fall, I bruise. I cut, you bleed. We are a single soul split in two.

Isabel Cabrera

I want to forgive you. But every time I think about what could’ve happened my heart turns into a natural disaster, and my bones collapse inside of me, and my mind falls Into a pile of purple thoughts. The thing is I’ve sat in front of my mirror and pretended I was hearing your apology and I’ve thought of a thousand ways to let the earthquake that sits in between us stop. But the problem is you never felt the bruises or had to pick up your bones because they were broken instead you were the one who walked away when my whole life was falling.

-Alexa Evangelista, the book ill never finish writing

vodkakilledtheteen:

It smells different here now. The air doesn’t smell sweet like pancakes and cinnamon instead everything smells like a fire that won’t stop. The other day I tried to make something for breakfast, and I was proud of myself because I’ve been skipping breakfast for so many weeks now. But the toast turned into ashes, and honey, they say oil and water shouldn’t be mixed together so why the hell were we together? I think we were two molecules that tried to be together until we noticed that one of us was broken. I don’t mean to sound irrational but I just want to ask you, do you think someone out there will salvage the air we once inhaled together?

-Alexa Evangelista, my head is underwater

“he raises his voice

higher than he would his hands

and for that I guess

I should be

grateful”

- d.c.

“the girl with the hummingbird heart

is me.

it sounds like a beautiful companionship,

but it’s not.

there are no flowers in my chest;

their necks were snapped in The Trampling

by the muddy, spike-clad soles of

disingenuous relations past.

their decapitated heads have long since

decayed into the soil

that now fills my organs with

dirt and death.

nothing grows anymore—

there’s not enough air.

they took that with them too,

but they left this

poor,

silly little bird

whose wings are too strong

for me to break.”

—a metaphor of my anxiety

- d.c.