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abbyleann
23/F/Connecticut i talk too much
my rage was inherited as much as it was taught wrapped around my ribcage like ivy on stone i feel it weighing me down like lead in my bones i tried to push it down but i was minutes from bursting ive become a volcano from a bloodline im cursing i hate angry men i think its projection all the men who ever hit me taught me about deflection now they live in my head the devil on my shoulder I try to bite my tongue but I’m holding down boulders I have to protect the girl inside of me from her own worst enemies and I don’t have the privilege to drown it out with ketamine   so my rage is inherited it’s everything I hate I told the townspeople to run but I think it’s too late
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Jul 31, 2025
Jul 31, 2025 at 1:00 PM UTC
my fathers fury, my mothers words
some nights you say things that stay in my brain like that you can’t replace me and no one else makes you feel the same some nights i feel like you’re right there a million miles away from me but i feel you everywhere but some days you disappear some days there’s nothing worth saying im so happy when you come back until i remember you’re not staying so i guess i get confused on if i want to be farther or closer i cant leave you where you’re at until you give me closure and maybe ill wish upon a star or pick a four leaf clover whatever i need to do to stop this from being over
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Aug 9, 2024
Aug 9, 2024 at 10:26 AM UTC
one last try
pathological manipulation in everyone I meet who leave out the blueprints for calculated schemes predisposed schizophrenia and incessant need to win feels like fiberglass blood breaking through velvet skin im scared all I inherited was my dads brain and what my mom meant to pass on, was left in her grave my boyfriend told me im selfish, I deserve the blame but my ********* laugh only exposed my pain i think the principle of sufficient reason is a form of psychosis looking for signs from invisible beings so we don’t feel hopeless but yeah, call it religion, it rolls of the tongue better when I asked God what he thought, he never answered my letter
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Aug 9, 2024
Aug 9, 2024 at 10:21 AM UTC
what the voices say
it started out with word games, that should’ve been a sign, you won every game of anagrams, I didn’t know what was on the line, I bet I could’ve won if I really tried, but the red flags look pink when you’re colorblind I said it and I meant it, I really will be fine my attachment issues are no fault but mine
0
Aug 9, 2024
Aug 9, 2024 at 10:19 AM UTC
Anagrams
some nights are easy, i see all of the signs that show me what I don’t have, I am sure to find but some nights are melancholic hyper focused on relations forged to be platonic, and it’s ironic. im ironic. you sold me the story and I bought it. I thought I fought this. but when the signs lead back to you, what am I supposed to do? and now I worry my messages won’t even come through. yeah it’s ironic, i can’t stop it. no matter how hard I try to block it. it follows me from guy to guy, the demons i run from i always find, but im fine, it’s fine. really I don’t even mind. we can just talk from time to time. you can think im crazy because i can’t communicate right. but I try. i swear i try. a symbiotic semi ****** far too nonchalant nightmare on my phone, dripped in silver linings i pickaxe out of stone to subdue the fear of being alone. and you know. don’t you know? and you give me nothing but just enough so I don’t go but every word you say is thickly coated in your ego it’s a game im always losing, and a choice that you’re not choosing, the same flower that was blooming is now rotten petals from my assuming its ironic. i swore it was platonic. but this ache is catatonic the way i crave you is chronic how can the two be synchronic? i carry love like it’s astronomic i never said it, but i thought it maybe im the one who’s toxic i count on you to disappear, you never let me down. i wish you’d just tell me, you’ll always come back around. how sad does that sound? the hidden meanings ive found? you painted me red and wondered why i looked like a clown. i just laugh. im the joke. i don’t get it so i smoke. you are like a door stopper that’s always in my way. i can never slam the door closed so i have to sit with my rage. and my nostalgia is milk that’s soured with age. a nightmare i masochistically recreate, and then complain that I can’t escape so I find new malignancy that I can blame. to match a new frequency I can alternate, a virus that consumes all of my drive space, baby blue flowers in an empty landscape I said you can’t hurt me, but you knew I couldn’t stop it. i found the vulture, inside of the ostrich. and you found the victim inside of the goddess. i can’t help but find that ironic.
0
Aug 9, 2024
Aug 9, 2024 at 10:19 AM UTC
Ironic
some nights are easy, i see all of the signs that show me what I don’t have, I am sure to find but some nights are melancholic hyper focused on relations forged to be platonic, and it’s ironic. im ironic. you sold me the story and I bought it. I thought I fought this. but when the signs lead back to you, what am I supposed to do? and now I worry my messages won’t even come through. yeah it’s ironic, i can’t stop it. no matter how hard I try to block it. it follows me from guy to guy, the demons i run from i always find, but im fine, it’s fine. really I don’t even mind. we can just talk from time to time. you can think im crazy because i can’t communicate right. but I try. i swear i try. a symbiotic semi ****** far too nonchalant nightmare on my phone, dripped in silver linings i pickaxe out of stone to subdue the fear of being alone. and you know. don’t you know? and you give me nothing but just enough so I don’t go but every word you say is thickly coated in your ego it’s a game im always losing, and a choice that you’re not choosing, the same flower that was blooming is now rotten petals from my assuming its ironic. i swore it was platonic. but this ache is catatonic the way i crave you is chronic how can the two be synchronic? i carry love like it’s astronomic i never said it, but i thought it maybe im the one who’s toxic i count on you to disappear, you never let me down. i wish you’d just tell me, you’ll always come back around. how sad does that sound? the hidden meanings ive found? you painted me red and wondered why i looked like a clown. i just laugh. im the joke. i don’t get it so i smoke. you are like a door stopper that’s always in my way. i can never slam the door closed so i have to sit with my rage. and my nostalgia is milk that’s soured with age. a nightmare i masochistically recreate, and then complain that I can’t escape so I find new malignancy that I can blame. to match a new frequency I can alternate, a virus that consumes all of my drive space, baby blue flowers in an empty landscape I said you can’t hurt me, but you knew I couldn’t stop it. i found the vulture, inside of the ostrich. and you found the victim inside of the goddess. i can’t help but find that ironic.
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the tarot readers say the things I want to hear they say you’re coming back to me and that you have fear you don’t think I’d take you back and that’s why you don’t text it has nothing to do with the fact I’m not inside your head No I believe the tarot readers They know what they’re talking about They tell me you miss me so bad you can’t even say it out loud And maybe it’s true you’d find that insane But if you’re looking for me, I commented claim I am at the end of your road Waiting on you to come home And if you really miss me You’ll know where to go And I am on my phone, waiting for your text If you really missed me I’d be answering it instead. So why do the tarot readers say you’re coming back? If you were on your way to me, Wouldn’t I know that? But they shuffle the deck and I believe what they say Because it’s easier to believe That you’re just on your way
0
Jun 26, 2024
Jun 26, 2024 at 11:46 PM UTC
the fool
she doesn't know what she has, what it's worth, or how bad i want it. but she will when she loses it.
0
Jun 26, 2024
Jun 26, 2024 at 11:24 PM UTC
jealousy
you wear and break me down, like your favorite pair of shoes, running through the mud, in a race you’ll always lose, as dusk falls and you're on the chase I will be the one who always gets a taste, and as your soft strides clap against the ground, It is always me that you are putting down, one step farther- it's suddenly so clear to me. Your favorite shoes are not the ones on your feet They are the ones that are never worn, but somehow always showed off. The ones in your closet, that never come out of the box. They have never felt pavement or grass They have never felt free And in all the ways I’ve been yours, I still wish that was me. I wish I was the one caged up if that’s what it means to be loved. Instead of the one slammed to the ground with every lunge. While your real favorite shoes, wish to be me, worn to their soles, but feeling the breeze. To be used is not to be loved; but to be loved is to be used And how sad must I be to compare myself to shoes?
0
Jun 26, 2024
Jun 26, 2024 at 11:20 PM UTC
shoes
why does time freeze at the age of seventeen and instead of resuming you just wake up at 23 wondering how six years passed in one night and when you gave up on all your big dreams the way adults do it’s just what we do we give up and we complain and we’re so good at dancing with disdain but at 17 I had some soul left and something to give I wonder where it went and if simply being alive is all it takes to live?
0
Jun 26, 2024
Jun 26, 2024 at 11:18 PM UTC
17
There is something so human about looking in the mirror Poking and prodding at every detail trying to figure out how other people see you There is something so human about crying yourself to sleep And hating when you can’t sleep and can only cry Or waking up early to the sunlight laying on top of you making a pattern of your bedroom floor, The early morning glow makes you smile to yourself And you never notice; You never notice all of the little beautiful parts of being a person That you may never get to experience again The way that people look at you when you’re not looking The moments of remembering who you used to be and realizing that it isn’t you anymore Your favorite jeans ripping or not fitting and being so angry because you don’t think you’ll ever find another pair of jeans that fit that good Realizing you haven’t associated him with that song in years, Realizing you haven’t thought of him in years. Wondering if your parents would be proud. Being sad if they wouldn’t be. That feeling makes you want to try harder- be better. The human experience is so surreal and so slow and sticky and sad but it’s so bright and warm and beautiful like a summer sky or dew soaked grass in the early dawn There is so much beauty and pain and love and hate that comes with being a person There is so many feelings you don’t even realize There is not just happy and sad and angry There is the feeling of a Tuesday afternoon when you realize you have hope for the first time in years The feeling of a clean kitchen after procrastinating dishes for weeks The feeling of a scalding hot shower in the winter and a freezing cold shower in the summer That park you dream about even though you only went once The smells that bring back memories Sunscreen and Victoria’s Secret perfume and there is just something about pine that brings it all back You take advantage of this life you were gifted simply because you don’t remember asking for it, But you did, You begged to feel everything fully even if sometimes it hurts You begged to see it all in 3D and experience it all inside of the vessel that is your body and here you are, with everything you ever wanted — and you are crying over jeans that don’t fit And I am not mad at you for it It’s part of the experience But someone has to tell you There are a million jeans that will fit better A million smiles that’ll spark a fire A million memories built up inside of you, that only you know, And a million reasons why The human experience Is what we’re all chasing And running from And that is what we all share That makes us so human.
0
Jun 26, 2024
Jun 26, 2024 at 10:52 PM UTC
jeans that don’t fit
There is something so human about looking in the mirror Poking and prodding at every detail trying to figure out how other people see you There is something so human about crying yourself to sleep And hating when you can’t sleep and can only cry Or waking up early to the sunlight laying on top of you making a pattern of your bedroom floor, The early morning glow makes you smile to yourself And you never notice; You never notice all of the little beautiful parts of being a person That you may never get to experience again The way that people look at you when you’re not looking The moments of remembering who you used to be and realizing that it isn’t you anymore Your favorite jeans ripping or not fitting and being so angry because you don’t think you’ll ever find another pair of jeans that fit that good Realizing you haven’t associated him with that song in years, Realizing you haven’t thought of him in years. Wondering if your parents would be proud. Being sad if they wouldn’t be. That feeling makes you want to try harder- be better. The human experience is so surreal and so slow and sticky and sad but it’s so bright and warm and beautiful like a summer sky or dew soaked grass in the early dawn There is so much beauty and pain and love and hate that comes with being a person There is so many feelings you don’t even realize There is not just happy and sad and angry There is the feeling of a Tuesday afternoon when you realize you have hope for the first time in years The feeling of a clean kitchen after procrastinating dishes for weeks The feeling of a scalding hot shower in the winter and a freezing cold shower in the summer That park you dream about even though you only went once The smells that bring back memories Sunscreen and Victoria’s Secret perfume and there is just something about pine that brings it all back You take advantage of this life you were gifted simply because you don’t remember asking for it, But you did, You begged to feel everything fully even if sometimes it hurts You begged to see it all in 3D and experience it all inside of the vessel that is your body and here you are, with everything you ever wanted — and you are crying over jeans that don’t fit And I am not mad at you for it It’s part of the experience But someone has to tell you There are a million jeans that will fit better A million smiles that’ll spark a fire A million memories built up inside of you, that only you know, And a million reasons why The human experience Is what we’re all chasing And running from And that is what we all share That makes us so human.
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