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abbygail-valcourt
22/F/Brooklyn, New York I’m just an ordinary girl who had an interest in Poetry ever since the fourth grade. Ever since, I’ve been writing. I also love to read other works from other poets.
Latch onto me as the bee on the budding petal, And I’ll grace your palate with my kisses; My fingers thrum against your skin and make You gasp and shudder, as if the cold rain pricked you. I want you to be beneath this cloud, to close your eyes and wait: When the droplets come, chase them with your tongue, Let them cascade down your cheek and coat your lips, And let its scent intoxicate your senses. Let the cloudburst drown your taste so you remember nothing but this, And your face will be a dripping canvas of clear paint, The portrait of nature’s bath. And when the storm passes and the skies clear, Look up to see the flushing sunlight of my smile And I will kiss away the remnants of the rain from your mouth, Until you decide to begin anew.
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Apr 2, 2025
Apr 2, 2025 at 12:15 AM UTC
Raincloud
You are my temple, the one I visit each day; Your golden shades wave from a distance, Your windows look out to the world, yet hide What’s within. Your marble walls show strength, With fine lines and cracks on side, Yet you are still beautiful to me. Your doors, once open to all, have now been shut, Innocence transformed into heinous mockery By an act of violent intrusion by another’s hand. And my worship must now be visual, I leave you be, for you may shun me, Not out of hate but precaution and fear. I will wait for you as you heal, As the cracks begin to heal and form stories, As the minutes make you wiser and stronger, As the memory loosens its grip on you, I will wait for you as you heal. Let me offer you the gift of time, And if you wish, allow me to restore you— Don’t let this temple be destroyed by your Inner tempest. And when the tempests come, I will stand with you, I will take the rain upon my cheeks and stay here, Until the tempests pass. And when the tempests go and the sky arrive, I will be here and I will wait for you, Until the day comes when you are well And I have your permission to enter.
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Jan 27, 2023
Jan 27, 2023 at 1:52 AM UTC
The Temple
The flowers tickle your ankles and feet, An unknown field greets your gaze-- yet, no worries. No worries or pain. Although a voice is calling out from somewhere...
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Jan 11, 2022
Jan 11, 2022 at 7:27 PM UTC
Entrance
My body has become a devout follower of your religion My mind resists your charms, yet it knows of the power you hold I cannot dream without want of holding you, I cannot dream without want of being near you I cannot dream of sleep, when such reality exists.
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Jan 7, 2022
Jan 7, 2022 at 7:20 PM UTC
Religion and Reality
When I awoke, your taste lingered on my lips, Your touch left tattoos all over my skin. If only I could see your carnage, to revel in it! I fantasize about your fingers tracing my skin And your lips burning a scar onto my ******* Why are fantasies intangible and temporary?
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Aug 4, 2020
Aug 4, 2020 at 2:49 PM UTC
Fantasy
The compression grip of longing grabs my heart And squeezes it. It occurs whenever I ponder on a life I have not Lived yet or a feeling that I long to experience. Whenever I feel incomplete or unsure, Or need reassurance; it comes and goes Like a summer breeze. But the beat goes on and on.
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Jun 17, 2020
Jun 17, 2020 at 1:16 PM UTC
The Beat
Never have I felt the warmth of day Graze upon this sunken face; The swaying breeze escapes my ears And does not assuage my growing fear. The gay day is covered in black, Never again to show its shades. Custom phantoms cross my mind That keep me livid through the night; While the moonshine becomes my daylight, Darling morning hurts my eyes. Night is night and night is day, For the two have failed to separate. Ghostly figures have my heart— Timeless sleep ripens my pain, Enterprises of lost rest haunt Restless souls as myself. Lovely day is now my death, Faithful night is now my life, Night is day and day is night, Night is night and night is night.
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May 30, 2020
May 30, 2020 at 6:08 PM UTC
Night is Day
I wish to kiss you, to use my tongue as a painter would use a brush. I long to write poems on your skin and trace verses on your heart, To caress you as a sculptor smoothing out the edges. Let me explore you. Just explore. Without any thought of destination. Just explore.
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Apr 24, 2020
Apr 24, 2020 at 5:15 AM UTC
A Poet’s Request
Just walk. No need to have a destination In mind. Just walk. Just be a spectator to the living earth. Walk on the ground that has carried your lineage To great lands, See how the trees sway for their one-person audience. Listen, truly listen to the sound of the music That is formed by the environment. Let your legs take you to new places Just as your words take you to new faces. Walk without expectation, Expect without reward, And there shall await a magnificent conclusion.
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Apr 17, 2020
Apr 17, 2020 at 7:57 PM UTC
Sans Expectation No. 1
Love is not proud, yet proud at the same time. Love, you are an interesting being; You numb me from the painful cramps of hurt, Yet when I have you, I can fall hard. Your blindness allows me to see your imperfection With perfect clarity. Yet all I see are your Beauteous features and your elegance. Love, you are not proud, but you should be. Moderate pride does not hurt with self-love, For you know that I shall love you until I whisper your name a final time.
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Mar 5, 2020
Mar 5, 2020 at 2:34 PM UTC
Love is Not Proud