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annabel-lee-
long thin nails breaking free from shape at every scab brains arrange your lips are crooked in a mouth full of lies you are trying to get out of something that just can't you deny. liquify throats and swallow them into you, it still won't stop the scream for the truth of what you do. trees cut down taking away all but stump, paved roads covering nothing less than lungs. drain down the water from every kitchen sink, still never will you submerge every word that ever reached. narrowing through veins leaving oxygen levels plummeting. moon's story of the light from the sun, dimming before any eyes can adjust. marrow spread within clinging to the undesirable, keeping bones apart. joints independent with commands let by without an answer leaving me with motionless moves.
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Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 4:20 AM UTC
Untitled
Thoughts of you will always remain. Buried deep; merely insane. You'll hide under my skin, covering lies I hold deep within. Next to the scar you left when you sent me away. Every promise, I've kept away. Memorizing every line, here is where they will keep and every word will stay. Not like your words. They've turned too obscure. Your mumbles turn into slurs, Hoping I wouldn't notice, You really do love her. But only is three could only love you this much Do me a favor; don't reply. Keep me In-between the spaces you've punctured your skin. I'll keep you in both, punctured and pure. Every part of me, Seeping with thoughts of her. (Don't say you were never alarmed) Too bad seasons change and like the birds you migrate away day by day. And also alike to the birds, Your return every spring brings me nothing as it seems. You're just a bore; a ***** with nothing to do. I only but wish, of your presence never to be inside my head again. But let's face it, It never truly ends.
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Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 12:11 AM UTC
It never ends.
Melted into the ground I am already known by, From the cracks in the masks I am constantly shown by. All thoughts; concealed in the corpse of the trees. Cloaked by the realms of normality, running through the soil of which I've grown by. But here I lay, thinking of a Mid-Alaskan day. trapped by the fears of the ignorance adjoined by the contour belief, that you and I; shall never be. This soil is never leaving, from the undersides of my feet. the idea, that the mud on my shoes may not wear paper thin. Track in layers, of the secrets within. Here I lay Hopefully not to stay But having let myself in the know, of the place I've made (all on my own.)
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Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 12:08 AM UTC
"Greatest Fear"
I am the ocean deep and blue, kissing the shoreline, and that is you. There is nothing more beautiful than the way you send me away With every kiss I'm here to stay (Don't send me away) I am the sun boiling alive deep within, loving the moon (that is you) You're waning away. (Don't leave me) I said, "I'd die for you once but not ever again" funny how my story started to bend. Every night I died only for to rise to her side. Blinded by your different phases, surely this cycle will come to its end. I prayed your promises would never come to their end. Then the tides washed you away, deep in your own lust. Where were my eyes? I heard by some never fall in love with a boy who craves girls who smell enough like the salt water to drown in. Those are the types who follow the stench of death at every turn and smoke cigarettes to die. Love the boys that follow the stench of your beautiful soul. (You are beautiful) Then ones that enjoy the flowers in your hair and your oversized jeans. I am an earthquake and this is your skin, quivering and shaking im leaving you in your death.
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Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 3:28 PM UTC
Untitled
I wonder, do you still try and file every particle of skin left under your nails from the nights we spent alone Listening to the subtle tune or the bands we once flavored alongside at an absolute. I wonder, Do you still try and dig in the dirt? The dirt that grows outside the window I'd sometimes sneak through on those late summer nights. (Do my footprints still remain?) Do your hopes remain focused on the act of dirtying the smell of the daisies, I had pressed in my hair To a far a place where all thoughts of me will become the remains. The daisies you dug through with the skin under your nails Hopefully leaving the faint smell Of the flowers that use to lay in my hair under your nails alone in your mind, a constant reminder, of my ongoing memory. (I did exist) Or are you planting the stems You've plucked right from me. From the underside of you nails planting them in the ground In hope of a sprout to appear of a new "daisy girl" Or are you simply trying To mask the thought of me From coming to anything, Anything less than a halt? Is the nostalgia, really keeping you up from your thoughts?
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Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 3:18 PM UTC
"Daisy Girl"
comparing you of such two separate things, seemed to leave an everlasting crazed effect on my mind. you left me searching for days, ink contained within this pen spilling in the depths of my mind all for the simplest of creative comparison to emerge from my chest. Not to leave me with this deep regret splurging from my spine. hoping to have these words come across the tongue like the images stuck behind my lips. hoping the words I mutter before you align to the fullest of my reoccurring thoughts: It is mythed out to be, that the silliest of all things named the bumble bee is a gift well given. The sweetest provided taste mixed deep within your tea. A sweeter taste, Not known to man. How hard the bee works, all for the tea you drink day by day, is there a thought in your mind wondering when will it fade? Comparing events with your actions, Easier than that batter of the eye Comparing yourself to your actions, No words will ever be able to sum up the emotions that you’ve spilled inside of me and left the mess. Here are some words  may regret: Sometimes upon listening to the bird out near the window, I would seem to of heard your voice between their calls That soon turned into their dearest of songs. The bird in my opinion, Which is never recognized by the wise Seems to be one of the loveliest creatures, I ever did see. Unappreciated by some, Noticed by next to none. The way they come and go, No warning just sudden betrayal by the ones paying notice, Keeps me in wonder of why a return at all ever surfaces through their mind. Much like you to me, Why a sudden go Shorts out all the matter, Leaving the return you present me with, All that’s on my mind.   I say this because I heard by a few, How lovely the birds sound in a spring’s earliest day. I compare you to the birds because after a while, we pay next to none of a care, the beauty of the returnal, and the saddens that should fill us in their betrayal.
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Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 2:30 AM UTC
birds and the bee's
comparing you of such two separate things, seemed to leave an everlasting crazed effect on my mind. you left me searching for days, ink contained within this pen spilling in the depths of my mind all for the simplest of creative comparison to emerge from my chest. Not to leave me with this deep regret splurging from my spine. hoping to have these words come across the tongue like the images stuck behind my lips. hoping the words I mutter before you align to the fullest of my reoccurring thoughts: It is mythed out to be, that the silliest of all things named the bumble bee is a gift well given. The sweetest provided taste mixed deep within your tea. A sweeter taste, Not known to man. How hard the bee works, all for the tea you drink day by day, is there a thought in your mind wondering when will it fade? Comparing events with your actions, Easier than that batter of the eye Comparing yourself to your actions, No words will ever be able to sum up the emotions that you’ve spilled inside of me and left the mess. Here are some words  may regret: Sometimes upon listening to the bird out near the window, I would seem to of heard your voice between their calls That soon turned into their dearest of songs. The bird in my opinion, Which is never recognized by the wise Seems to be one of the loveliest creatures, I ever did see. Unappreciated by some, Noticed by next to none. The way they come and go, No warning just sudden betrayal by the ones paying notice, Keeps me in wonder of why a return at all ever surfaces through their mind. Much like you to me, Why a sudden go Shorts out all the matter, Leaving the return you present me with, All that’s on my mind.   I say this because I heard by a few, How lovely the birds sound in a spring’s earliest day. I compare you to the birds because after a while, we pay next to none of a care, the beauty of the returnal, and the saddens that should fill us in their betrayal.
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