#rejectscorner

[soulreserve]

to stardust you shall return

all that is left of you is tethered to a tremor.

your absence widens, and keeps on widening until we are finally separate.

the gulf between us is a star-fed river.

the gulf between us is a light-starved chasm.

I watch you convulse, collapse into yourself.

you, a soft nebulous shadow that grows warm and bright, incandescent, from a seed.

so quiet. so very quiet.

you spin away in the vacuum of space. pulse light. scintillate morse code answers.

i hear the silence.

i hear everything you want to say.

© SoulReserve 2026

[forlornalbatross]

A comment | 240314, Thursday 9.03am

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[definegodliness]

Core (in situ)

I breathe, immersed in mercury, Or maybe Ouroboros entangled; Something bites down, gorging, And I am constricted with every Mouthful of timelessness stomached, Holding my breath in my yesteryears; Hoping this thing will choke on its tongue Before reaching the buried, in situ.

--- 15-10-2025, M.A. Tempels ©

[lilydragonslair]

I seek kindness

From all directions:

the wind and sky and strangers.

These places... I feel

electric storms of change

where is the man I

fell in love with?

No heat, no charge, no trust:

What do I do with being used?

I Walk in wonder

waiting for a sign.

Is it thunder?

Is it mine？

Where is the one to walk

by my side?

is he kind?

Today, I am grateful for knowing this too shall pass.

[the-sum-of-many-poets]

low vigour

a brood of northerlies

spin the ruff

one bent blade of your galvanised collar

thumps with self harm

pumps a ferrous breath

rust on rust

barely a laureate’s rasp for a noble tower

&

although

not as soon as a rain moth’s rain

but sooner than the lag of a cosmic wave

you will return

reborn to your mineral origins

you should’ve abdicated sooner

your longing cyclops

swivels on a throne

following the sulphur crests

a bolshevik revolution

angle grinding the sky

they circle your crown

mad russian mystics on a murdered tsar

the dam is your poverty child

cracked belly to the ground

listening to aquifers confess

you have an heir the sun says

©️david sichler

[deadly-danaid]

"I don't move on. Instead, I carefully wrap each memory as if it were made of glass, storing them in a sanctuary only I am able to revisit."

Moka Lynn, A mental monastery

[ad-venturism]

I have lost my edge and now I am infinite but sometimes specks of doubt blow into the emptiness vast with beliefs that need assuaging to grow like a bubble join other bubbles to pop like a bubble what is a bubble? what makes it beautiful? the iridescent light flickering on the surface I dream of lying in a field of tall grass that grazes my cheeks like kind sheep and solid ground feels like ocean there are no rivers but water seeps from the ground like the unconscious 

[complicatedconstellation-blog]