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PretentiousStitch
16 The world is my prose.
A moment to inhale the truth,        In the cusp of being damaged,        And being broken; although lost,        In the darkest daydreams unto pleasure. When the brighter hues was tethered,        On the dark colors of crooked smiles,        And all that was left is a loud belch,       Of titters and quiet sobs.
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Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 3:06 AM UTC
Realization
Eyes swaying vigorously with the wind, Vague view of the shallow ocean, Pledging to the bright moon on fields, I'll atone for my sins, benevolently. Blatant truth of doubtful bouts, Blasphemous cries for a casket of sorrow, Withholding castles in Spain, Unravel vibrant Iris of my love, I plead. The sentimental ambiance of hell of you, I repute as an utmost rule of felicity, Sentinel waves of time on shores, With your words, I had myself deplored. Inside my head, fears barricades strings, A parade of barbaric laughs on deaf ears, You bored a whole in my heart so deep, Enlarging the hurt I swallowed with one sip.
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Mar 19, 2018
Mar 19, 2018 at 7:23 PM UTC
Elucidated
Dripping clothes resting against sins Lastly taken when feeling the heavens Sometimes taken with a lazy pace Absorbing the beauty her sins held. Galaxies inbetween excitement and mirth Anomalous explicit moving against buds Of the flower desired by dangerous eyes Carefully exploring every sweet side of lies. Dark lips moving with unusual fervor Elusive sounds to the ears of heated hell White flaws coming out of the dark road Belts dropped and the beast roar it's might. Slapping skins of sinful adventurers Grunting the pleasure of punishments Of the Eden they betrayed in the soft bed They belong to the creation of flawed heaven. S t i. t c h
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Feb 2, 2018
Feb 2, 2018 at 6:13 PM UTC
Flawed Heaven
Sick yet alive I am. Thin as a stick, devoid of life Tubes sticking on me. I fought and relied On a machine to live 5 years and counting, I'm 10 I have lived in the white rooms Halls and ceiling are painted white-- it's so empty, I wanted to see more colors than this. I haven't stepped foot outside the world that much-- But How can I feel it's cruelty when I've always been inside? My friends, the other patients, have gone well-- Telling me I'll be too, I'll breathe the fresh air too. Like they did. My best friends, the doctors and the nurses Treats me well; But Why do I feel so unloved? I wanted to play outside with them too Hold the ball and throw it, run and run till I can't anymore. All I do was sleep and I can't even see the grassy fields-- nor the flowers I don't even know the smell of them My buds doesn't know the taste of freedom Candies, junk foods and other simple things- The other kids eat, All I knew was medicines. But I held onto this I knew someday I'll be able to walk around Play and laugh like when I was one I'm weak I know, But the world teaches the weak more than the strong one So I'll hold on and not perish One day, Some day I'll be able to step foot outside Feel the breeze of the cool wind Swim and let the ocean engulf me. I'll be able to feel freedom And taste how beautiful life can be. Like they did. One day. But for now, I'll hold on. Clench my teeth and endure. S t i. t c h
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Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 9:31 PM UTC
Sick yet alive
She was fed by the cold winter Embraced by the solemnity of Christmas Held high praises for few coins; Love is an art and she's an empty canvass. Virile man in between her surge warmth First love, first apprehension She was a sophomore at hurt Tears wont last at eyes, although she cried. Lips with wounds, sinewy expectations Stars may vary and bring misfortune She carried them all, pulled the shroud And dreamt of sailing to the moon Euphoria filled her empty stomach She accepts men with sheer delight For they bring fortunes in her pocket, her body- She sell, they savour with relish at night. Father, mother, brother, and sister She no longer quenches hurt with love She wrote; loitering on her desk She gained prowess from prosperous letters She writes at a blank world, but pretentious Papers-- she tends to write for the world Wishes to impress it by her perplexed concepts Of love and hurt, For it to give her more. She deserved more. S t i. t c h
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Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 6:21 AM UTC
Merit