I just have a small critique,
"I don't understand why, but it's become routine."

The last line of but it's ... Becoming or become,

Other than that, I like this piece.
I personally like the part where you said that you see love everywhere but not if you see it in the mirror.. That part was sad yet it really got to me. It was strange but it did capture my attention.
And you know, every time I look at coffee, Xanthe jumps to my mind. I think that's your touch and something that I can associate you with.

Each morning I stir up my coffee
diluting it with a cube of sugar

The coffee is either to strong
or a touch of sweetness is being added on

Everywhere I look. I see nothing but love
unless it is the mirror I look into

I can relate so well. Looking at others
and what the eye perceives is love
then I am standing in front of the mirror
and I see a sad reflection of myself
asking "what is wrong with me"

I does become a routine after a while
sitting there with a cup of coffee
that's when the mind wanders of

I absolutely adore this write of yours

You are very good at penning your emotions
Xanthe.

Everywhere I look, I see nothing but love;
unless it is the mirror I look into.
Everytime I breathe, my lungs drown in bleakness;
unless it is the ocean I confess to.

^^This is the part in which I felt a strong connection to the way your heart is feeling...hope all that changes but the poem itself was creative and heartfelt.

I love the way you have opened up your poem with the wording that last night's dream was still beneath your pillows. It makes me think that it must have been a powerful dream!!!

I love this!!! Xanthe you are an amazing writer, glad to read your poems.

x

Xanthe........your a god damn poetess in the flesh!!!

Im actually a little in love with this piece, word usage and flow nothing but exeptional in my opinion, as uausll :-)

Time slips quietly out the back door -
like an unfaithful husband leaving me,
as I hide behind heavy eyelids tonight.

Up here is my favourite part ....just crept up on me and slapped me in the face...

A sad but wonderful wonderful write x

Sighs- I wonder if you know just how much your poetry touches me... I've said this before, but with this piece its almost as if you were sitting at my kitchen table at 5am drinking coffee with me... and we were both talking in silence....

this is one of my favorites by you, well done!

Excellent write, one best poems I have ever read on this site. This piece is sad but tells the life of many. Great write...

I don't know what this is about, but why are you writing sad poems? Be happy, Xanthe! Don't let life get you down...we have similarities, do you know that? Except the writing, of course :P

'Before the dawn, I always wake up to find
last night's dreams sleeping beneath my pillow.'

^ Very intriguing beginning. I am wondering what you mean by 'last night's dreams.' These are personal, so I will probably never know, but I still wonder :] Is it dreams of someone, or is it of something? So many possibilities.

'Lights flicker on outside my window
and I just know I'm meant to be alone.'

^ As I read this, I am wondering how lights flickering outside your window makes you think that you are meant to be alone? Windows flickering has no meaning to me, but it must to you. Are you frightened? Maybe you think that you are meant to be alone and scared because of something you did, or something that has happened. Trying to think of possibilities again.

'Everywhere I look, I see nothing but love;
unless it is the mirror I look into.
Everytime I breathe, my lungs drown in bleakness;
unless it is the ocean I confess to.'

^ First off, there is a typo in this stanza. Everytime is two words, not one ^.^ I've done that too. Why do you think this, Xanthe? I am assuming that this poem is about your personal life, because that is usually what you have been writing lately. I have been sensing hopelessness in your poems, and that saddens me, and makes me feel useless. I want to help, but I can't - I loathe that feeling so much. You are capable of love, Xanthe...

I can tell that this is a personal poem. I don't care if you deny that, but I am sure that it is. I like how you used the title 'Circadian' because it matches very well. Circadian rhythm...I am sure that my 'circadian rhythm' is quite messed up right now :/

This is a very haunting piece, and I still feel useless.

Excellent
5/5

I really liked this poem. I could relate to the beginning because I way I read it was that your dreams are so vivid and powerful that when you awake they are so fresh in your mind and it is like you can see it all happening again. This happens to me often.

They way you desscribe how you get up to make the coffee is quite interesting because it comes across like you don't even want to be doing it, almost like a second concious just taking over you and doing it through routine. It makes me think of all the things I do purely because I have made them routine.

I think the emotion in this poem is a very strong sense of loneliness and perhaps longing for that soemthing special. Something that will make you want to wake in the morning and not make you feel alone.

You have wrote this really well. I loved your ending because it is like you want things to change but deep down you are so low and hopeless that you think nothing will change unless you begin to make wishes. This is sad. Although nothing stays the same so things will change and life will be good for you.

Great job on this.

Ah.
I am in awe.
I love, love, love poetry that speaks of dreams. Anything, any image, any line about this word or the meaning of it makes me just satisfied, inspired and impressed. And here, you have a whole piece about it. What can I say? We're too alike and you always know what I fall for, you never miss something!

I like the picture of your last night dreams nesting beneath your pillow and the extremely sad tone of light flickering outside your window leaving you alone.
You're always good at opening stanzas and I envy you for this. Really.

'I don't understand why, but it's become routine.'

My, my. How innocent, hopeless and sad this is. The insertion of it there in the middle then again at the end is well-done. Routin is so awful, it makes us die everyday, tell me about it. And the way that you being dreamless has become just normal and daily is heart-wrenching.
Man. I love you. Told you that, right?

My only criticism would be the starless night bit. I always read 'starless nights', 'sunless skies', etc when the writer is talking about hopelessness and dreamlessness. (Is that even a word?) So, I don't know.I found it repeated and not so you.
But whatev.
The piece just rocks.

Oi, and I love the cheater husband image. Wow.

You go girl!

Muchas Felicidades!!!

Why didn't I see this poem?!!!!

Oh God.. I'm terribly sorry.

Time slips quietly out the back door -
like an unfaithful husband leaving me,
as I hide behind heavy eyelids tonight.

^ This deserves to be hung in Hermitage! :)

Way to go, sis... I will re-comment.. but for now CONGRATS!

Congrats, apple tart.

I love how you keep repeating this theme of routine, it's really heart-breaking. Wanted to congratulate you on the win! This was an emotional yet simple write as the reader is left to wonder about this person, their dreams, who they look into when they see the mirror......congrats :]

Ahh, you're only 15?! How are you capable of writing something like this?

Too impressed for words right now. Going to read some more of your poetry.

Congrats on the win, sorry I'm late.

Love, love, love!

"Everywhere I look, I see nothing but love;
unless it is the mirror I look into.
Everytime I breathe, my lungs drown in bleakness;
unless it is the ocean I confess to."

^Gah, so much emotion here! I honestly don't even know where to start...this stanza is a whole in itself. So much beauty and so much pain. I especially like the first two lines and hit me so hard. I think there has been a moment in all of our lives where we have seen love everywhere but not in ourselves. Although there was a slight typo, every time is not one word, this was just seeping with emotion that couldn't be ignored. Nicely written.