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Fear Of LifeAnd suddenly You find yourself here again
the cycle of perpetual thoughts that never end
afraid of how the world will ever end
or is it even a world to begin with
Trapped in a prison of the heart
sanity and mystery take no part
Pedophiles caress the sweet nectar of her neck
only to find she is not what they expect
Life is it real?
or an simple illusion
an allusion hinting back to someone else's time
a little stain on a black fabric is all she seems to be
Is life really this amazing?
Or is it all just a big mystery
Falling.. AgainI'm starting to feel that familiar pain
but then again I cut everyday
I'm starting to notice the slight change
But this isn't the first time I've felt this way
This time seems to have changed
this time I don't have to hide away
Everything about this seems so cliche
how I wish to be held by him everyday
How I could count a thousand ways
and how it would take all day
to tell of how much I'm starting to love,
this guy who's been there all along..
Yesterday I found it hard to smile
but this day with him my grin stretches for miles
and long story short I'm just trying to say
I love my boyfriend each and everyway
(Oh God this rhyming thing's so cliche)
Love you Quan!
Me, Passive. My AgressionI'm calling, but you text me
I'm falling, and you don't catch me
I'm running, and your right by my side
Telling me to keep going, you say you'll stay right where you are
but you turn around once we reach a mile
and I'm left there, thinking
Are you really so careless with my heart
how can we be so close yet so far apart
Passive-aggression is the key
'cus you keep saying you love me but at the same time, you hate me?
I don't think it's fair
and it's really not cute
but I gotta be honest, I know it's just you being you
contradicting yourself 'cus your so unsure
And the funny thing is I'm just now attempting to see
'cus honestly I'm just talking about me
A Rose By Any Other NameA Forbidden love sounds just as sweet
as a prayed for rose that can only bring
a peace and beauty that is simply defined
By a lust that has only grown over time.
Love at first sight, it cannot be tamed
Nor taken for any other simpler thing
"for a rose by any other name would be just as sweet"
as sweet as the love him and me.
Welcome to PandoraI awoke in a strange place... there was nothing familiar around me and I was curious I didn't know which way to go or where to turn, I only knew that I had to find her. I stood and I ran through the green forest, sometimes tripping on a root here and there, but never falling. I just ran and ran with thoughts of her image running through my mind.
It was like I was seeing a picture develop. Her bright green hai9r, with streaks of different colors, like a vibrant rainbow, it framed the most perfect heart shaped ivory face that held a winning white smile shaped perfectly with soft pink lips. Her eyes were... Unusual, they held no color to them, not even white just... clear but they were bright with laughter that was unheard, tormenting my mind with a tease of a sweet sound that once used to ring in my ears like a sweet lullaby sang by a mother to her new born child.
I stopped running.
Did I ever have a mother? I do not recall having a family. The person I had ever known was the
Untitled Somethingeveryday, a familiar smile
each morning i wake to the thought
that maybe u were the one for me
perhaps u were just made for me
a specific kind of thought that way
or maybe just a slight image of u
flashing in front of my eyes
teasing me with the fact that your not mine
Once upon a time u were made for me
So maybe one day u can become my baby
well right now u are my baby
... so I meant to say when I become YOUR lady
Soon my love, it's what you promised
So I hold u to that with a kiss shutting my lips
a hot aroma of love fills my lungs
and forever we can try to be together while we're still young
It's Okay to be ImperfectThe moon
Stand Against SuicideI know the pain is perhaps unbearable,
But darling, please put down the blade.
Release your emotions through tears and smiles,
Rather than dreading these days.
Do it for the little girl, whose mother can’t be there,
Or for the boy whose father drank too much.
For the boy who can’t sit in elementary school,
Because the bruises from Daddy hurt to touch.
For the teenage girl lying face down in her bed,
Thinking, why can’t it all be done?
For the elderly man looking up at the stars,
Counting the days one by one.
Do it for the children who wonder, does it end?
For the ones who feel left on their own.
For the ones who think, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard
If I didn’t feel so left alone.
And finally, do it for one other person,
The person in front of these words.
Because you’ll never know how it gets better
When focusing on pain and hurt.
Live one more day, dear, for them and for you,
And I swear to you, problems will fade.
I know, for right now, it’s p
Unable to loveMy love was pure
I only wanted
But my heart
Because my love
Like a piece of garbage
And now I'm unable
Because the shreds
Of my shattered soul
I Thought I Needed FeminismI thought I needed feminism, when I was a little girl.
And I am very sad to admit, that this wasn't very long ago.
I thought when he held the door open for me, that he was making a big mistake.
That he was being a pompous ass, and he took my strength for a fake.
And when he offered to pay my tab, I still called him an ass.
Because I thought he assumed I was poor, and below middle class.
Or when his hard work earned him a promotion,
yet I did nothing, and the boss' ignorance to promote me, I believed was a sexist notion.
My friend really wanted feminism when she found her ex-dead drunk,
removed his clothes, and without his consent, had a pleasurable fuck.
When her parents bust into the room unexpected that night,
she said he raped her, and he was arrested without so much as a fight.
Perhaps feminism was there when I walked out into the street in pure nudity,
and shouted the my neighbors “You have no right to judge me!”
I didn't care about the children who were standing in th
MathematicsI am but the sum of my
F L A W S;
a network of
S C A R S
a disaster of
D R E A M S
a shield of
B O N E S
C A L C U L A T I O N
a void of
to the girl i lose my words aroundi have been meaning to tell you for years:
i think you’re beautiful. i have
seen nothing on earth that holds a candle
to the ocean you carry inside your body.
it spills over your edges sometimes, like
a rain shower around you, blurring your penciled-in
lines until there is nothing left of you but your natural
cliffs, valleys, and deserts.
i like that.
i have never met someone who is, somehow,
a sea and a storm at the same time.
maybe i never will again.
maybe you are the only one
who gathers clouds on her forehead
like a promise, or feels the push and pull of the tide
with her every step.
you are beautiful, honestly.
you are honest, beautifully.
it is in the way you talk, the way you hold ice
on your tongue but forget to use it—
you always forget to use it, i don’t think
you know how.
to be truthful, i’m afraid of your smile
and how it breaks over me, how it pulls
me like a whirlpool down, how it pushes me
like a current back to the surface. i’m afraid of
the certainty of imminencei.
tomorrow spills over
inevitability-rapt and enveloping,
as wakefulness startles,
i'm caught up in past-time
i forge(t) myself in oblivion
midnight so hollow,
we all stop
with the clocks.
nothing looks the way it did
and i guess it seems
i'm blinkered, brevity-bound
in century footsteps forever stumbling,
always being blindsided
by the passing
Abuse Is Sometimes NecessaryPush and pull at her long hair, topple her to the solid ground,
elbow her sharply in the raw gut, shove her harshly around.
Scratch him in the pale face, punch him in the broken jaw,
do anything necessary to him that's considered breaking the law.
And when she cries because you've punched her, let her be,
and observe her when she returns to her habitual smoking.
When she passes out next day, because she's drunken too much booze,
slap her in the face once more, though many would consider it abuse.
When he can hardly walk because he thinks he's high in the clouds,
rip the needle out of his arm, and with your nails, slash him across the sweaty brow.
Grab them and shake them till their battered and bruised,
tear at their heart, scream in their ears until you've reached the point of verbal abuse.
And when she falls into your chest, and he collapses to the ground,
pull them closely, and whisper, “We can turn this all around.”
And rehab is a necessity for all of you, because you'v
Good (Great, Greater, Greatest, You)Good (Great, Greater, Greatest, You)
I hope the title caught your eye,
because this is about you.
Many of us speak in superlatives
and ambiguous language.
In imagery-laden text masquerading
underneath double entendres
keeping us from a part of the truth.
But purple streaks and red bands,
harp strings and soft hands
don't begin to explain
the love I have for you.
So I lay these words down
simple in its vulnerability,
blemished and raw in its purity.
The term lissome fits you in many ways,
but not necessarily it its textbook form.
I speak on the part that is not readily seen
but what is easily most cogent.
Your consciousness' cognizance
is graceful in the way
you fold one syllable over
another, supple in its meaning
that can take many forms
going from idle lies
to how we idolize hollow eyes
and uncovered hip bones.
Elegance is an understatement,
but I refuse to speak in cliche superlatives.
I speak honestly
but not with exaggerated grandeur.
Because your immediate app
Tik Tok - the AMstik tok.
the clock strikes twelve
again here you are yelling
screaming at me
again here i am hiding
covering my tears with smiles
the clock strikes one
again here you are smiling
holding me close
apologizing for hurting me
the clock strikes two
again here you are telling me
with words of love and reassurance
the clock strikes three
again here you are looking
searching through my phone
finding the number of a distant friend
your jeleousy turning you
into a heartless beast
the clock strikes four
again here you are shoving
laying hands on me
bruising not only my body
but my soul
the clock strikes five
again here you are throwing
at the wall
breaking whatever is in your path
including my heart
the clock strikes six
again here you are laying
sleeping in my bed
your arm around my waist
holding me down
drowning me in my own sorrow
the clock strikes seven
again here i am tears
flowing down my face
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