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absolute-alexandra
absolute-alexandra
21/Cisgender Female Writing is an escape and nothing else tastes sweeter than escaping reality.
Looking back on my life through poetry hurts me. I see how low I felt and how much I hated myself and the world we live in. And I like to think I've changed; I no longer am in such a bad place or have as much hatred. But yet, I find myself feeling so many of the emotions i felt so many dreadful years ago. I'm almost 22 and I find myself feeling the same exact way I did at 15. I just want to be happy. And I know I'm the only keeping myself from it. I can blame it on my past "trauma" all I want, but I'm the only thing holding me back. Will I ever change?
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Aug 26, 2019
Aug 26, 2019 at 9:32 PM UTC
Untitled
The devil dwells deep within her soul Pure evil was in her gaze but I mistook it for lust I thought the look in her eyes made me feel whole But she made me a fool and destroyed my trust Her silver tongue spit silver bullets Leaving me with scars I'd never show I thought our relationship would work to the fullest But at the end she threw all the low blows My trust was a forest that her carelessness burned down Forests don't grow back overnight Her lies sparked the fire and I was the talk of the town The forest of my trust looked like a leftover bomb site My heart was mutilated and torn to shreds She was the butcher holding the knife The only lifeline I knew was gone and I was holding on by threads I wanted her to know I was hurting but she didn't care about my strife In the end I'll get my revenge I will become everything she failed to appreciate For it will be myself that I avenge And once I'm free my heart will no longer be an inmate I will become everything she searches for But I won't be around when she knocks on my door
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Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 11:02 PM UTC
I Fell In Love With The Devil And Lived To Tell The Tale
your smile brings me the most joy I've ever felt; seeing you happy and LIVING again gave me the strength to keep going. I know that mentally you are not okay and I know that I can't fix that. even if I can't fix it by loving you, I will do anything in my power to bring happiness into your life again. I will love you on good days and bad days and all the days in between, I will love you until my last breath escapes my lungs. you were my first and I want you to be my last. I've never been able to see myself having a future with anyone else because I could never see a future for myself, but you, you give me something to look forward to. I want to take care of you, love you until our last days. I have fallen head over heals in love with you becca anne and it's the most terrifying and exciting thing I've experienced.
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Aug 13, 2016
Aug 13, 2016 at 3:06 AM UTC
first draft of our love
Her room was chaos; clothes thrown everywhere, bed unmade, and junk piling every open spot. Even though her father told her time and time again that she needs to find a solution to this trainwreck, the messiness never seemed to cease. She had attempted to tidy up, but somehow the mess would always return; always lurking in the back of her mind, taunting her every second. She washed her ***** clothes, threw away the trash, got rid of unnecessary items, but the mess always returned. She began to lose hope, nothing would bring this to an end. Each time she tried to stop the mess it grew stronger and got progressively worse. Her friends had started telling her she needs to clean her, but she always had an excuse. She would constantly say how she was always too busy, but it was a lie; she had all the time in the world, but she knew her friends just wouldn’t understand how the mess was her own personal bully; it never left her alone and it was a constant reminder of how her disorderly her life had become. One day, she finally broke. Her goal to have a clean room had been demolished and engrossed into the mess itself; similar to her other goals and aspirations. The mess began to spread; her locker overflowed with useless papers, her car filled to the brim with futile garbage; it followed her everywhere. The grogginess from her bedroom poured into the sky, turning it a terrifying shade of gray; lessening her hope drastically. Every single thing she did contributed to the mess and she just couldn’t take it anymore. She went home and just lay there in her unkempt bed with her ***** laundry and empty water bottles and she allowed the mess to overtake her. She stayed trapped inside this mess she created until it consumer her; like it had consumed every other aspect of her life. She never found a solution to the never ending mess.
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Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 11:01 PM UTC
Disorder
Her room was chaos; clothes thrown everywhere, bed unmade, and junk piling every open spot. Even though her father told her time and time again that she needs to find a solution to this trainwreck, the messiness never seemed to cease. She had attempted to tidy up, but somehow the mess would always return; always lurking in the back of her mind, taunting her every second. She washed her ***** clothes, threw away the trash, got rid of unnecessary items, but the mess always returned. She began to lose hope, nothing would bring this to an end. Each time she tried to stop the mess it grew stronger and got progressively worse. Her friends had started telling her she needs to clean her, but she always had an excuse. She would constantly say how she was always too busy, but it was a lie; she had all the time in the world, but she knew her friends just wouldn’t understand how the mess was her own personal bully; it never left her alone and it was a constant reminder of how her disorderly her life had become. One day, she finally broke. Her goal to have a clean room had been demolished and engrossed into the mess itself; similar to her other goals and aspirations. The mess began to spread; her locker overflowed with useless papers, her car filled to the brim with futile garbage; it followed her everywhere. The grogginess from her bedroom poured into the sky, turning it a terrifying shade of gray; lessening her hope drastically. Every single thing she did contributed to the mess and she just couldn’t take it anymore. She went home and just lay there in her unkempt bed with her ***** laundry and empty water bottles and she allowed the mess to overtake her. She stayed trapped inside this mess she created until it consumer her; like it had consumed every other aspect of her life. She never found a solution to the never ending mess.
Continue reading...
1
a star-soaked ocean stands between who I am and who I want to become and I'm stuck on a boat with no paddle. idling softly, I await for someone, something, to give me a wave of stability. I wish to reach happiness the way the tides reach the shore daily but I've began to think it impossible. I fell in love with this ocean quicker than any girl because the tides come and go the same as I. there's an occasional island of hope that I can take refuge in and I think to myself "I can do this, I can beat this", but in comes a tidal wave of emotions to take that away from me and I find myself stranded in this star-soaked ocean, softly idling, waiting.
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Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 11:05 PM UTC
the waters bare no responsibility
I used to love writing but then it started to feel more like a task at that point it became less enjoyable I'm afraid I've lost my touch When I want to write a poem nothing comes to mind but an empty slate along with losing myself I think I've lost my creativity
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Aug 26, 2015
Aug 26, 2015 at 5:40 PM UTC
creative or nah
I try to have a good body image I'm fat and I say that I'm proud but when I avoid mirrors at all costs I close my eyes when I walk past one others say I'm strong and courageous they wish they had the confidence that I seem to possess but do you really want a false sense f happiness? do you want to put on a front so others think you're strong? do you want to skip meals so you feel in control? don't ever say you wish you were like me
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Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 10:21 PM UTC
body positive
I want you to know me but I don't know myself I want you to love me but I have every aspect of me I want you to be with me but I can't stand the sight of myself I'm trying to get better for you because I want you
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Jul 11, 2015
Jul 11, 2015 at 3:02 AM UTC
I want you
she makes me feel the way a little kid feels on a hot summers day when the ice cream truck comes giddy and excited even though he sees it rather periodically it still makes him happy the way she does me
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Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 12:18 PM UTC
her
a child should never have to lose their parent at such a young age. granted, you're still alive, but you're not the mother I once knew. growing up things were all right, so I thought. I thought we were a normal family, until I saw how my friends families interacted. apparently families aren't supposed to fight all the time, moms aren't supposed to hit your older siblings and dads are supposed to be around. as I grew older and less naive, you couldn't treat me the same anymore I was beginning to be more like my siblings so you had to treat me like them too I grew up, they moved out, dad still wasn't around so all your anger got taken out on me. I was twelve the first time you hit me and I didn't tell anyone. the hitting and the yelling continued for the next three years and when I finally told someone, they didn't believe me. you told me to **** myself so I tried and then suddenly you loved me again you wanted to be a part of my life but I didn't want you in it so you left and didn't come back but when you left, you took a little piece of me with you and now, I lost you forever. a child should never have to lose their parent at such a young age.
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May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 10:49 PM UTC
What's a mothers love to a dying child?