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  Jun 13 abyss
The Wilted Witch
I swim endless in despair
So that I do not drown in it.
I breathe only to breathe.

I am suspended in sunlight with no warmth.
I am surrounded by notes that make no melody.
I fumble, falter, fail.

Heavy as a raindrop whose cold
Penetrates deeply into loneliness
Is the air, the light, the lingering.

I forget too much.
I remember too much.
I am too much, and not enough.

A shallow pool is that in which we swim
A void wants only to be filled.
Misery takes us all.
Heavy handed, for certain. But not fresh.
  Jun 13 abyss
Adam Torch
As long as you're here,
as long as this works in its own way,
I'll keep taking
the hits,
the sips,
the bites.

Because you're the kind of substance
that makes me want to write,
contemplate life,
and feel the ache.
abyss Jun 13
Dreams, so many dreams
Some forgotten, some waiting to happen

am I one of those dreams?
forgotten after the morning alarm
or waiting to come knocking?

forgotten, or waiting to happen
am I a forgotten dream,
or are you waiting for me too?

dreams, so many dreams
overflowing with them

will I reach them,
or will I have to forget them?

each day, an ache that never ends
but when —
when will it be enough?

time.
time is cruel for a dreamer.

and what am I
if not a dreamer?

a dream
or a dreamer

I guess I’ll know someday,
but not today.

time, time is cruel for a dreamer
sometimes too slow
sometimes too fast
a never-ending agony

dreams,
so many dreams

some forgotten...
just like me

and yet —
I keep dreaming.
my first poem ever.
the first two lines wouldn’t let me sleep,
and somewhere between silence and thought,
the rest found me.
abyss Jun 13
i found your name pressed between the pages of june
written while the world stood still.
you reminded me soft landings still exist,
our connection - warm like the sun, easy like the breeze
we talked about everything and nothing,
like time couldn’t touch us.
i could finally breathe and not feel like i have to fight
do you feel it when i tell the moon about you?
do you feel every piece of me you're mending?
do you hear the silence between my words,
where I miss you - just a little?
i found your name pressed between the pages of june
warm like the sun, easy like the breeze
I told you didn’t I?
You make me want to write poetry

— The End —