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Idekhahaig
14/Androgyne/Alfhiem IDFC (WHYUINMYBIO????) / ~-If you liked something tysm I try-~
Why are the ones who have so little joy left the same ones who give to people as if they might give in return
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Dec 18, 2025
Dec 18, 2025 at 11:11 AM UTC
Tell me
:(
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Dec 8, 2025
Dec 8, 2025 at 8:10 AM UTC
My stomach hurts
Im bored so bored and hungry and cold and fidgety and tired cant write or sleep or eat or read headaches tight throat insomnia Dear Voice is it you im hearing im feeling? tell me, Voice is it your whispers, footsteps keeping me awake at night? is it your comments, and fears keeping food away, my throat tight?
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Dec 5, 2025
Dec 5, 2025 at 8:56 AM UTC
Dear Voice, Im Bored
So loud So bright so many people smile, be grateful dont cry over comments ¨Sorry, thought you would've gained weight by now.¨ Dont forget to say thanks, to act so proud to be alive dont cover your ears or close your eyes dont ´seek attention´ Dont act hurt when the voice remarks on every word ¨I love you¨ they say, and the voice says, ´liars´ But dont falter, dont frown dont act at all down be glad that they care eat the cake that your throuat barely lets through choke it down with a drink and act fine dont look in the mirror, dont trigger the voice as i tells you how ungrateful you are
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Dec 5, 2025
Dec 5, 2025 at 8:52 AM UTC
Birthdays
If the world was wonderland with potions and doors would i still be confined to these ceilings and floors If the world was wonderland, would I be considered mad? surely not, I'm SANE I'm normal- not crazy If the world was wonderland who would be the Cheshire Cat? The queen of hearts? Alice? Who would be this, or that? Would that desk be the grass? Or the chair be a cup? Would that carpet be a pie? In wonderland, I'd frolic, not in flowers but it clouds In wonderland, what couldn't I do? Nothing isn't allowed
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Dec 3, 2025
Dec 3, 2025 at 8:28 AM UTC
If The World Was Wonderland
I wear longer sleeves, a jacket even It's not ¨ preppy ¨ I'm not cold It feels safe, I feel safe when I hide in fabric When you cant see the raw skin, on my hands When you cant see the hairs on my arms stand up When it's loud, when I get scared You won't see me scratch, you won't see me pick You won't see me break, see me count obsessively, that's what the ¨ experts ¨ say, the one's who hand out Diagnosis after diagnosis, prescriptions, so many Advice, that's what they call it Lies, that my comeback because i'm not obsessed, i'm safe, i'm not crazy, i'm helping not you, not your money, not your college degree But my heart, myself, me, me, me, me, me Call me a narcissist, call me selfish ok, what else, any more judgment?
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Dec 1, 2025
Dec 1, 2025 at 1:55 PM UTC
Past My Fingertips
I used to write poetry in pencil; scared of judgment, full of fear Wanted to be liked, loved, went back to be kind but at one point, in a fit of rage a wrote on a page All capitals, slanted- ripped the paper: ¨ These Words Are MINE, They Aren't Your Words. ¨ And I wrote this in thick, pitch black ink I broke my lucky pencil, into 4, now trash I keep a pen in my pocket, black with no shame If i mess up I don't rip out the page, don't fear their stares Because they are MY words, and honestly? I DON'T CARE
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Dec 1, 2025
Dec 1, 2025 at 1:39 PM UTC
They Aren't Your Words
After you left I stared at the driveway Feeling its emptiness Wondering if you'd return. After you left I thought about your questions Wishing I hadn't been so blunt Wondering if I scared you away. After you left I remembered how you felt in my arms. How you fit so perfectly there. Like my guitar. Wondering if I should have kissed you when I had the chance. After you left I sat in my room Remembering all the things you said, and Wondering about all the things you didn't. After you left I sat in silence. Missing you in a way I didn't quite understand. Wondering if you'd ever come back.
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Nov 6, 2025
Nov 6, 2025 at 10:34 AM UTC
Wondering (Poem for Every Last Word- Tamara Ireland Stone.)