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#poetry

Streets flooded with silence and night light 
Shadow of my house looming 
No one walked by it for long five years
Daylight scared of this dreadful thing

I don’t replay my home coming anymore
Lights went out in every window
Halls had longed for a creak on the floor
I’m the haunting of this house

Years peeled off paint of porch 
Dust settled on everything
Cold of emptiness became louder than silence
All living things bend to time’s power

Echoes of past mistakes
Etched on every surface
And I can still see it all
Bright lights blinding

Screaming, blaming, tossing
Once it’s ends, start over
Locked doors, muffled sobs
Once it’s ends, get over

Heaviness still linger here
As if this house has a memory
As if this house remembers
Screaming its pain out in silent creaks 

I don’t replay my home coming anymore
Windows boarded long ago
Glass shattered like my hope
I’m the haunting of this house

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Solo il tuo tocco è quello che cerco.

Per anni ho sopportato la solitudine e la rabbia.

Poi la tua presenza è fiorita nella mia vita, 

prima piccola e debole,

sempre più forte.

La solitudine è sparita, non ricordo nemmeno quando,

improvvisamente mi sono girata a cercarla e c’eri tu al suo posto.

La rabbia, senza la sua compagna, si è affievolita

 fino a diventare un soffio d’aria e torna ogni stagione, 

mi passa attraverso i capelli e scivola via.

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Margaret Atwood, from “Newsreel: Man and Firing Squad”, Selected Poems: 1965-1975

weltenwellen
weltenwellen
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I am tired and afraid. Battle-weary. Battle-aching. Each day is a beating, and my muscles jump when I hear footsteps approaching. I am scars and aching shoulders and tender back, and gritted teeth, and I have calluses on my hands. It’s good to remember this. Good to remember that I, too, need to show myself kindness.

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Hace un par de días tu sombra en mis sueños me acecha, es como si una espesa bruma se situara en mi mente y te veo ahí con tu sonrisa llena de luz.

Hace un par de días no me escribes, hace un par de meses no me dedicas poemas, me siento perdida en un infinito bucle de memorias, de distancia.

Hace un par de días encontré tu foto en mis recuerdos, como deseaba poder hacer que sintieras mis labios sobre los tuyos y solo le pedí a la luna que te cuidará.

Venuswritter 🌙

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