Tag: poetry

She is a rainbow
He, a monochrome arc.
She breaks light open,
he carries its edges.
She follows storms,
he rests in calm.

She moves in certainty,
the promise after thunder.
He lingers in shades
where colour dares not bloom.
Yet somehow
they meet
where the sky forgets itself.

She glows,
he holds.
Two frequencies,
one horizon.
Different worlds,
same gravity.

She reaches through silence,
he answers without sound.
Their orbits collide
for a heartbeat,
then drift to distance.

She dreams in colour,
he sleeps in grey.
Each night
they find each other
in the space
between dark and day.

###

For my calm and constant. For the one who steadies my light. ❤️

I chose myself
in a garden of secrets,
walking out through doors,
returning through windows.

Whispers swayed
like leaves exhaling
a silence never meant
to be heard in storms.

Truths clung
to the soles of my bare feet,
a shadow I stepped into
and still can’t shake.

A ghost rests inside my mind,
quietly holding
the words we never said.

I became an almost-everything,
felt, not seen,
with each breath,
each step,

like the slow rise of the sun
after a long, cold winter’s night.

Fireworks are bleeding
from the sky
sleeping petals in the dark,
explosions of emotions,
wounds waiting to be healed.

And in the midst of
this midnight rain,
we are dancing
on the wings of memories,
colourful secrets
written in the stars,
unseen in daylight.

###

Possibly the best of today’s batch. I mentioned that I filled two notebooks, but the truth is, they are thin. And as of today, I wrote 75 poems since August 2nd. It’s a lot and there are a handful of fillers. Wait… I said that yesterday, didn’t I? Either way… Thank you for being in this with me. ❤️💜❤️

Pieces of me are light as rain,
flowing in the wind, dancing with leaves,
whispering secrets to the clouds.
Pieces of me are heavy as rock,
rooted in earth, building a mountain
from every bruise and every scar.

I am the fleeting and the firm,
the question and the ground.
I fall.
I rise.
I am.

Hold still.
Don’t look down.
Breathe in.
Stay steady.
I’ll hold your hand on this ledge.
Don’t look down.

The sky is closer than it seems
when fear grows heavy in your limbs.
The wind does not want you to fall,
just feel the feathers on your skin.

Trust the whisper between our hearts,
the silent pact of breath and bone.
This is not the edge of the world,
just the place where wings are grown.

Hold still.
Don’t look down.
Let go of what was never ground.
We are more than this trembling;
we are the leap.

Skybound.
Starrise.

There are a million ways to surrender,
but none of them are part of my path.
I passed them all and walked on,
past soft temptations and sharp silences,
through the ache of almost
and the pull of what-if.

I kept walking,
barefoot through storms,
eyes dry beneath thunder-heavy skies.
I listened to the wind lie,
heard the night whisper, “stay still,”
but rest is a language I never learned.

Until I stood where the starline kisses the ocean,
where the horizon does not choose sides,
where the water forgets every name it once held.
I breathed in,
not surrender.
Only peace.
Serenity ran through my veins
like a memory returning home.

Would you forget the stars
if they do not shine?
Would you forget the moon
when it does not illuminate the dark?
Would you forget the waves
when the storm is calm?

Would you?

Would you forget the hand
that held you in the night?
Would you forget the kisses
that kept you alive?
Would you remember her
once everything in your life is alright?

Would you?