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My sister, drinking tea: I kind of feel like Im drinking pasta.

Me: …

My sister: my senses just switch things around sometimes

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Quakes wake between crevices

Standing staring at the spiral staircase

About to journey up

Two minutes - three

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Hesitant smiles within

With gusts of joy

Three minutes - four

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I decide to stay

Nothing to do

Four minutes - five

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The steps are spiral

I’d much prefer straight

Six minutes - much better to stare

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So I take the straight

One minute to gate

Seven minutes - up

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L. Dagger

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Please remember that it’s okay to not be okay. You don’t have to be happy all the time. Life is not supposed to be a joy ride every single day. It’s okay to have a broken heart or hurt feelings or to be anxious or nervous.

Let it be a beautiful and sad part of the story, but only a page or a chapter here and there, not the whole book. One day you will realize how important these dynamics are.

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Your Eyes by Khai Lhá

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They asked me why I don’t like eyes that shine like emeralds; that look like the treetops; that look like moss and lime and spring.

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They asked me why I don’t like eyes that look like the deep blue sea; that look like diamonds; that look like cold steel and stone; that look like the clear skies.

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They asked me why I don’t like eyes that look like chocolate and honey; that look like the Earth just after it rains; that look like copper and wood; that look like cinnamon and syrup and walnuts; that look like gingerbread men that just came out of the oven; that look like caramel and mocha; that look like freshly brewed coffee and hot chewy cookies.

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They asked me why I love “boring, plain eyes”.

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They asked me why I love your eyes.

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They asked me why I love eyes that look like space; that are as dark as coal and ebony; that look like the damage done when lava touches water the first time; that look like burnt paper and spilt ink; that look like pure oblivion and nothingness; that look like the sky that I see whenever I felt like giving up at midnight.

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I love your eyes, not because everybody else thinks they’re boring, but if you’d actually look closer; you’d see cosmos underneath those pitch black orbs. If you’d look deeper, you’d see a galaxy that would take millions of light years to get to and eternity to figure out. If you’d stay longer; you’d witness it dance with mirth, shine with affection, grow dark with anger and glow with tears.

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And when your eyes finally looked into mine; I saw your eyes, replaying the memory of your heart being bruised and broken. Your eyes, pleading, not for me to mend it, but accept the broken pieces.

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