Warmth

There is a ghost
Warming his boneless hands
On your heart.
He is a harmless Fata Morgana
Of your mind
Unless
you let the fire
Burn out.

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One day, the world will dance for you

One day, the world
Will dance for you,
So don’t stop your crying
if it can ease the pain,
Those puddles will grow into lakes
And the sky of your lifetime
Will silver in a waxing sun,
Bleaching dusk into dawn.

One day, you will carry
Their sand in your hourglass,
So don’t let the world sugar-coat your
Lemon-puffed eyes to stop the tears,
Breathe hard against the winds
Trying to catch you in a storm of
Foreign thoughts.

One day, your feet
Will lift from the ground,
So don’t let your heart become skinny
from spreading out too far,
Even feathers can grow heavy
in the pouring rain,
And singular exhales come
With a far too heavy price.

Born For Exploration and Discoveries

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Perhaps we are born
For exploration and discoveries
And not domestication and
Integration. Perhaps
It is not always about anchors
And ports, but about that deep
Blue sea daring us to think
That we are more than we are,
And that there are still mysteries
Out there waiting to be solved.

Lay down in a meadow of thistles

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I paced those same lanes, believing
they would make me feel as though
I belonged to them, but all they did
was lead my away, like they always
used to do.

Even back then, they were overgrown
with weeds, hiding me and
burning me at the same time,
but, oh how I wanted to lay down
in that beautiful meadow
of purple thistles.

I didn’t even feel the pain,
I just wanted the green of the ground
to reach my heart.

There was always that one path
that I didn’t dare take,
thinking back; perhaps
it was for the better.

I bloomed anyway, didn’t I?
Like a snow flower, I pierced
right up through that ice,
glowing untainted white,
even in all that sunless poverty.