light rain on an autumn afternoon

credit: Amei Zhao
afternoons atop the hill
and a slight chill
when the rain and leaves fall
getting caught up in it all
each drop a pond
and each leaf a withered frond
to get her through a while
with a faint smile


credit: げみ
history will not remember me
but this cafe will
if only because of the bill.

it's my favorite spot
because i can enjoy being alone
while others are on their phones.

it feels good to go unnoticed;
it's a liberating feeling
from thoughts that send me reeling.

i am free when forgotten.

i casually sip my latte
and i cannot see
anyone looking at me.

i can close my eyes
and take in the muted voices
while i analyze my choices.

it's rather amusing to go unnoticed
when you're a ghost
casually sipping on dark roast.

i am free when forgotten.


credit: Tillie Walden
this world is beautiful
or so they say
but why, then, am i gray?

i am the forgotten palette
of muted tones
and aching bones.

i am not normal.

i'm surrounded by colors
so varied and vibrant
while mine are silent.

in a world so vivid
it seems i stand apart
because of my gray heart.

i am not normal.

4:00 p.m.

credit: 川野
there's something about
the not quite
middle of the day--
that time between
noon and dusk--
that doesn't feel right.
i've lost my morning spur
and it's too early to relax like night.
i'm stressed and i'm depressed
caught between the two times
when i actually do feel fine.
those lost hours of the day
when i don't feel okay.


credit: ふすい
i'm not quite sure
if it would be better for me
to forget about her
or cherish those memories.
i'd like to forget,
but my memories break through
like a dense fog lifted
and reminded me the world is still there.
i preferred the misty veil
where each direction is the same
and everything
was up to fate.
it's painful to see
where you've come from
and how far
you still have yet to go.


credit: Oreste Georgievich Vereisky
day after day,
we shift through
slack vines
of vague anxieties.
we lose our way
in the dense jungle
of obstacles
which impede progression
and yet
are as movable
as we determine them to be.
after a while,
we forget how slack
these vines used to be
and they become
as immovable
as our perceptions.


credit: Alena Aenami
when was the last time
i felt whole?
i think back and wonder
if i ever was.

during the day,
i can cover up
my missing pieces
like a wounded animal.

but at night,
the emptiness is darker
than any shadow
in the corners of my room.

as a wounded animal
fights for survival,
i wonder if
i'll make it til tomorrow.

before i go

credit: banishment
i want to see you--
i promised myself
i'd visit you.
i owe it more to god
than i do myself.
you are his gift to the world
and i'd dishonor him
by leaving without a goodbye.
i won't stay long.
i've a boat to catch,
you see,
and a gift of my own
to return.