2 a.m.

2 a.m.

Letters&Poetry

There’s something

About

The dark hours

Of 2 a.m.

That switches on

The lanterns

Along your spine

And lets you see,

Clearly,

The words

Gushing mutely

Through your bones

By Rupali Jeganathan

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Nowhere.

Nowhere.

Letters&Poetry

I never knew where I belonged. People were saying you belong to the country where you came from. They would say home is the only place that make you feel free.

First time I felt free, I was in a house in Malaysia. I wake up surrounded by people that don’t know my name, nor where I came from, nor what I believed in.

I only understood that nations are just stamps in passports, or lines on maps. And that home can be a story full of people you meet, or a place that you never been. Here I realized that home can be anywhere and that I belong nowhere.


Malaysia, 2014

(it was one of the most remarkable period of my life)

By Rim Zeiny

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Stranded Cinderella

Stranded Cinderella

Letters&Poetry

Originally posted in Spanish on our site Letras & Poesía

I have strolled all those streets where you hugged me,
looking in the corners for that joy I now think lost.

I have walked through Madrid, asking around in the bars.
I have poked around in the benches, in case I found us talking,
and I have stepped into the toilets, just in case
the mirrors still kept my ill-painted lips.

I didn’t want to notice, but
I tore my shoe in that place where you offered me your jacket.

I have crossed running all the red traffic lights of my life.
And I have wished death,
just to get another life
in which not to lose you.

By Crazovey (Spain)

Translation: Luca Arnaldo

Read original in Spanish —> Cenicienta mal varada

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Loads

Loads

Letters&Poetry

Originally posted in Spanish on our site Letras & Poesía

In every line he wrote something he would never achieve, just to remember he had to do it. Every word brought out of him a thorn that would never stop hurting. A mere shadow, an enigmatic illusion visited him recalling who he was, just in case he got lost in that sea of unfathomable words. And there he was, endlessly writing things that slipped from his hands, leaving them on the sheet to prevent them from loading his back when he got ready to fly.

Decisions weigh heavily and you must learn to carry them, to avoid becoming a mere carriage loaded with all the things you could have been and never actually were. Life is all about that; either you load guilt or you load the weight of a wrong decision. Both are titanic weights, but you must choose which…

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We come from different places with different cultures and costumes. Despite those differences we share one unique passion, the need to put on the paper what we feel, to give shape to that storm of feelings, heartaches, thoughts and stories that mean to be human. Although we speak diverse mother tongues, we share one way to speak, the language of the living word, that word that whispers to your ears promises of joy and sadness at the same time. Eager to champion the subtleties of language and expression.

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