The last dance


Dance with me

By the lonely sea

On a quiet Christmas Eve

Dance with me

When the music fades

And the crowd decides to leave

Dance with me

Through the good times

And through the stormy spring

Dance with me

When you are ready to leave

So that perhaps I can be

A good memory

— Dance with me - Jerecro

Solitary Christmas



Christmas Eve could
barely be contained within
the confines of a house
bursting with life

Today, it fits neatly inside
the quiet of my clenched fist, 
as I hold on tight 
to what little of it remains.

— Holding on – Shadow writer

Finding solace

I am learning to abandon the world

before it can abandon me.

Already I have given up the moon

and snow, closing my shades

against the claims of white.

And the world has taken

my father, my friends.

I have given up melodic lines of hills,

moving to a flat, tuneless landscape.

And every night I give my body up

limb by limb, working upwards

across bone, towards the heart.

But morning comes with small

reprieves of coffee and birdsong.

A tree outside the window

which was simply shadow moments ago

takes back its branches twig

by leafy twig.

And as I take my body back

the sun lays its warm muzzle on my lap

as if to make amends. 

  — Linda Pastan

The Bystander

Dear you,

I know that I don’t often talk to people very much.
I’m too quiet sometimes.

But that’s how I am even in reality. If you met me,
I’d have a substantial conversation with my nervous feet.
I would struggle to form coherent sentences,
I would most likely braid

and unbraid a small section of my hair over and over.
But when I do speak,

the words have something to say.
They unfold from my tongue of their own volition.

So if you ever feel like you have something to tell me,
or you feel like there is this loneliness sitting on you
as though you’re underwater

and no one can listen to you screaming,
I am still alive.

And even though I may be shy to begin with,
I will still try to speak to you.

I will try to pull the words from inside of me.


— pavorst

The heart’s melancholy

Shall I awaken a doubtful heart,

and dare persuade it to love again?

Shall I dare to chance the thought,

or leave it to its peaceful slumber?

Shall I promise not to cut another

wound, when before I have wounded?

Of such compassion, have I within?

Uncertainty, is all that I know

Have I the strength to compromise,

and not to do what was thoughtless a

sacrifice, of that I had broken in bitter

times – times when I had been so cruel?

Have I such a strength – a strength that is so?

All that is certain, all that I know, is that

I am willing, but shall my willingness be

enough, when I am but awake from what

had once been my own – peaceful slumber?

— Repentant Malaise - Rueberry

Temporary world

For ever or an instant – who knows
how long I’ll wander through this world.
But for that ever or that instant
I thank the world in equal part.
Whatever happens, I swear,
the only thing I’ll bless is lightness –
the transience of your sadness,
and the silence of my end.

— Bella Akhmadulina


I would have loved you, if I could.
I would have given everything to you;

my thoughts, my heart, and my reason would have all been yours.
If I had loved you, there wouldn’t be a doubt in my mind,
there wouldn’t be a moment’s hesitation,
when I uttered the words, “I am yours.”
But it’s impossible,
I have nothing to give you,
I have nothing of value.
My mind has grown empty, my words meaningless,
and because of that,
my love cannot be yours.

— unknown/andwhisper


Ask me if I am alright, please, ask if I am okay.
Notice my wretched smile,
the way my inconsolable grin avoids my eyes,
and ask if there is anything that you could do to fulfill its intentions.
Bring your face closer, your mouth barely an inch away from mine,
and reach down for my freezing hands.
Let me grasp at your fingers,
claiming the stability and comfort that they have to offer,
and let me fall into your embrace.
Please, ask if you can stay,
ask if you can lessen my agony,
ask if you can love me.

 — andwhisper/unknown

The disregarded

What I’m most afraid of is that feeling..
The feeling of being alone; of being lost.
That feeling when you have absolutely no idea what’s going on inside of you.
When you have no idea what’s coming next or where you’re going.
When you feel lost while you’re just sitting in your room.
When you’re just completely empty inside and you can actually feel it.

— smooched

Unseen scars

Stay and listen…
I will tell you
The secrets of my stories,
And the stories of my secrets.
Stay and listen in my cupped hands,
Hear my voice blow to you
The hollows of rocks and sand,
Clouds and lakes,
Thunder and bone.
Come, sit a while in the folds of my curtains.
Stay and listen.

— Night Sounds by Maya Lim