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poem

What Is left

Publié le par Charly C.

what is felt of you

lovely memories and a handful of whiskers

you were so small when you came into our life

then you started growing

sleeping with your spotted belly up

looking like a frog

what is left of you is a small black jar with ashes

many memories full of love and a handful of whiskers

all the places where you slept while i was trying to work

you gained a lot of weight because of me

you became cuter

a very good sleeping buddy

what we have from you are some pictures

a handful of whiskers and a small black jar

soft pillows were your favorite

as was sitting under the opened rain umbrella

in my arms or on my belly and chest

you rarely sat next to anna

but those moments are precious memories for her

our little fatty alien

we will always miss you

expect to see you come and eat

hope to hear your voice again

what is left of you...

RIP Mickey 2011 - 2023

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Untitled poem

Publié le par Charly C.

Days too bright burn my eyes

tiredness through the roof, I dream of a world others do not know exists.

long blonde locks can soothe my soul in times of crisis.

You'll never find a more supportive and kind person in your life.

Their generosity is limitless, and so is their patience. 

one thing they can't do, nor anyone else can is

To take your pain away. 

Sometimes i feel like i'm in a dream.

The pain reminds me that all this is real.

Buddhist beliefs don't ring with me, but it doesn't mean they're not real.  

 

Mental wellbeing is overlooked and not taken seriously. 

If you feel in a dark spot, at the bottom of the bottle or the barrel,

or even at the bottom of the Eye of London, hang in there. 

It can't rain forever, and things will soon change. 

 

We're stronger than we think.

All we need to keep on going is just one person.  

Not more. one person who believes and supports us and what we do. 

anyone else is irrelevant. 

 

Perhaps normal folks don't have breakdowns. 

Maybe this makes us not be normal.

But we shouldn't care: we're all unique. 

no, not snowflakes. unique. 

Is there something wrong with you?

Do you want to change and improve it?

that's fantastic. if not, that's fine. 

 

Back in the dark bottom. not seeing anyone around. feeling all alone.

cold and wet. unable to move a muscle or articulate a single word.

my throat is scorching dry, unable to think of speak. 

 

plop! ... plop! ... plop! ...

water drips in the distance. 

too far for either of us to reach it. 

500 lashes on the back mean nothing at this point. 

they minimize the pain in the chest. 

 

I'm sharing these images because i'm wondering why did they stop printing cards with such pretty art?! 

Unfortunately, i don't have all the court cards from both decks. I took pictures of the cards i found, and i'm sharing them with the world. There was only one ace too. The aces also used to have really nice art back in those days. 

 

©Charly Cross 2013 - present. All rights reserved.

Do you want to buy me a coffee? this is a 1-time donation, thank you very much!

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