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Undo
If I had the choice, I wouldn't be here right now.
I WANTED TO BE A KID I WANTED TO BE A KID IW ATNED TO BE A KID I WANTED TO BE A JKID I WANTED TO BE A KID I WANTED TO BE A KID I WANTED TO BE A KID NO ONE EVER LET ME BE A KID I WANTED TO BE A KID I WANTED TO BE A STUPID KID WHO DIDN'T KNOW WHEN THEY HAD TO LIE FOR THE SAFETY OF HER FAMILY I WANTED TO BE A KID WHO DIDN'T KNOW THE PAINS OF THE REAL WORLD I WANTED TO BE A KID I DIDN'T WANT TO HAVE TO KNOW ALL THESE SURVIVAL INSTINCTS WHEN I SHOULD'VE BEEN PLAYING IN MY BACKYARD WHEN I SHOULD'VE BEEN STUPID AND WHEN I SHOULD'VE BEEN IN IGNORANT BLISS BUT I NEVER GOT TO BE A KID I WANTED TO BE A KID I WANTED TO BE ALLOWED TO BE A KID INSTEAD OF IN CONSTANT AGONIZING FEAR I WANTED TO BE A KID
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Aug 18, 2020
Aug 18, 2020 at 5:18 PM UTC
Untitled
I didn't want to be mature for my age. I wanted to be a kid.
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Aug 18, 2020
Aug 18, 2020 at 5:17 PM UTC
You're mature for your age.
under the stars the earth will break and the reflections in the ocean will shatter underneath our heaven, sins we will make and so we'll never climb that moral latter after some time the night will start to gray and our summers will fade away after some time the night will turn to gray and my heart will begin to break
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Aug 1, 2020
Aug 1, 2020 at 12:34 PM UTC
Untitled
the night starts to gray and the summer fades away the night turns to gray and my heart begins to break
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Jul 28, 2020
Jul 28, 2020 at 2:10 AM UTC
Untitled
ever since you left my heart has felt empty but somehow the nothingness weighs me down it weighs me down to my bed and I can't get up in the morning it weighs me down in my sleep when it corrupts my dreams you didn't take anything you just stained it my heart isn't gone, it's just stained with your touch it misses you every second my music isn't gone, it's just stained with your absence, it all reminds me of you. my heart feels empty yet I am so weighed down when we text and call, every single time I think that something has changed. I feel full and free of stains but the conversation inevitably ends, and I realize that I'm nothing more than a hobby
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Jul 6, 2019
Jul 6, 2019 at 4:32 AM UTC
empty and stained
I'm falling downhill. honey, please, help me breathe.
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May 16, 2019
May 16, 2019 at 8:21 PM UTC
downhill.
Pour on the gasoline and touch a match to my skin I love the way it burns.
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May 16, 2019
May 16, 2019 at 8:12 PM UTC
Untitled
young hands picked dandelions for their mothers and their fathers. they pick, and pick, and pick until a bouquet forms in their hands because their family deserves only the brightest, most beautiful of flowers. young hands tie together the dandelions to form necklaces and rings, to form crowns to go along with their bright kingdom, because there are so many of them, and because royalty must wear only the brightest, most beautiful of flowers. young minds look up to their older cousin with a crown of flowers and a bouquet held high, but the older cousin is drowning, and he has been dulled by the world, so he throws down the bouquet, and knocks off the crown. and you'll cry, because you wanted to give him only the brightest, most beautiful of flowers. the cousin will take away part of your light to break it to you that dandelions are not flowers; they are weeds. and forever after, the world will be a little bit more dull, and the yellow will seem less bright, the smile on your face will shrink a bit more, the twinkle in your eye will start to fade. but maybe if you opened your mind again, you could notice that dandelions are still beautiful. refuse to let the world take the things you love and ruin them. remember that in your young mind, you once believed that dandelions were only the brightest, most beautiful of flowers.
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May 14, 2019
May 14, 2019 at 9:03 PM UTC
dandelions
I wake up with a blue heart to survive in a yellow world where everything is always moving unlike my still feet. and when I go into a coffee shop or a school or the parks I see people who are glowing. they glow all kinds of colors. beautiful colors, like pink, or purple, or yellow, or orange, all of the brightest colors, and I watch in awe because right now, my heart is only frozen blue. the dullest blue. so sometimes I stay in my mind and end up going colorblind and fall into my own black-blue world because the colors become all too much.
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May 11, 2019
May 11, 2019 at 7:02 PM UTC
the colorful hearts
the old woman loves her husband so, even though he hoards but pretends not to know. the old woman cries quietly at night because he refuses to listen, he'll only fight. he'll hoard it all, the smallest of things, all the while ignoring her cries and her screams, he has a problem, but he'd never admit it yet the old woman stands by his side in commitment she misses her children, they'll never come to visit because the hoarding is too much and has ruined it, she wants to bond with her grand kids so much but when she begs him he just puts up a fuss she still won't leave him, she'd never think to, because love is blind and it's too late to undo. she cries every night and won't leave his side so they ask her what's wrong, they ask why she hides, but she won't say that her heart has ached for so long, instead, that their marriage is going forty years strong. she tries so hard to be perfect for him every day, yet he refuses to help her by doing the same and even though she still wants a "normal life," she'll never leave him or stop being his wife.
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May 10, 2019
May 10, 2019 at 6:21 PM UTC
hoarder