Dio Writes

poetry

Fragments of memories that cannot be

Hidden in plain sight

Temporal anomalies, calling out

Begging to be seen

Clear as day and clearly impossible

Their messages whispered

In a language I do not yet comprehend.

#writing #poetry #dreams #supernatural

There are holes in my mind

Wounds I did not know I'd suffered

Pieces of me, stolen

My spirit, screaming at me to remember

Patchwork approximations

Stitching messages out of my scars.

#poetry #writing

I do not have the words

These feelings

Defy explanation

Yet

As my tears fall

As my throat constricts

For a moment

I feel

For a fleeting moment

That it is okay

For me

To

Let

Go.

#poetry #writing

Warning: Depression, death, self-hate, loss.

I have some pretty angry things written from when… well, from when. I held onto my grief for a long time… still do, kind of. This is… sort of how that felt, as best I can put it.

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Inspired by Gris, the mysteries of the ancient world, our lost magic, hope, longing, and my desperate desire to make this universe a place worth living in.

Something has been stolen from us Fragments scattered in our dreams Our tear streaked souls, crying out From a longing they cannot explain

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Mortality That supposed inevitability that We are asked to accept as canon With our purposes served we Are to be discarded.

But are we so meaningless Fibers in the cosmic tapestry Forgotten soon after last breath Footnotes in other lives Half-remembered moments?

No.

We are so much more.

#poetry #writing #death

Passionate, or perhaps just a bitch

Full of broken glass and fire

Opinionated, vocal, unrelenting

A sprinkling of sex for flavor

A fiction, touching on truths

That I didn't mean to disclose

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In this, a timeline darkened by despair

I see a people, not bound by threat of violence

But addicted to thier oppressors' chains

And I wonder; would they celebrate their freedom

Or beg those from who they've been freed

To make them into slaves once more?

#poetry #writing #despair

One does not make a deal with the devil

And expect to come out unscathed

But with the light of this world guttering

Perhaps it is time to arm myself

With the knowledge that she can provide

I do not turn away from the light

I embrace darker measures for darkest times.

#writing #poetry

I remember my younger self

Knowing that I could never be enough

Perpetually dissatisfied, despairing

My unworthiness writ in every failure.

To she who struggled with despair

Who sought unattainable perfection

Trapped in a cycle of self-hatred

Looking for peace that would never arrive:

Listen

You have ALWAYS been enough

And you ARE worthy of love

Perhaps if I tell you then

Someday, I'll believe me too.

#writing #poetry #selfcare