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anniezmi
anniezmi
shitty poetry for your viewing pleasure
Oh lord, please let me confess I know this life is just a test but I can't seem to tell the right from the wrong This heaviness sits in my chest right on the heart that you know best and everyday I feel my soul leaving me How do I seek you? How do I feel you? How do I love you from so far away? - Sing this to the tune of Miseducation of Lauryn Hill.... yes.
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Feb 13, 2019
Feb 13, 2019 at 7:33 AM UTC
13/2/19
And you rest your head To ease the pain Because the weight of your love Grew too heavy for your body And left bruises, dents all over your chest From your own hard beating heart You close your eyes And hum a soft tune Of a lover miles from your reach But while your lips sing Your head starts wailing Because songs only bring life to distance And you chance upon A face too familiar A different song you once danced to You feel the lush ache Of a closed wound And the loneliness comes in slow rhythm You rest your head And you hear drumming in the horizon You are unsure of what's coming But you try to find reason That the written will be good And that your sorrow will finally finish
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Oct 19, 2016
Oct 19, 2016 at 11:59 AM UTC
blah
Blindfolded. Pitch black. A hand I'm holding so hard I can't feel my fingers. You are terrifying uncertainty. An infrequent down pour to clear the desert dust, to feed life, to give love. Infrequent. Uncertain. A need, a want, a desire that comes and leaves when it pleases. I would fall into the abyss in a heartbeat, if I heard you echoing my name from below. And I would bleed love from my fingertips and sign your initials on my skin. This is a game for fools, a thoughtless gamble fueled by pure emotion, but I would bet every last breath on you. And when I can no longer hear your heart in sync with mine, when your feet decides to lead you away, when your hand begins to tire, I will bite my tongue and I will send you on your way.
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Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 10:27 AM UTC
word ***** 1
If only my heart had words to speak It would tell you I am here, I am here I give you a piece of myself Do with it what you please And if these hands could challenge my resistance, They would have found their way into yours Clumsy and nervous Waiting for your fingers to vine into mine If my feet led me, They would sprint towards you and choreograph our steps They would not let me leave your side But they will not, and love will not leave us And my lips may not press onto yours, but these dreams will suffice For now, words are all that holds us, and the hope of what is fate The dancing stars in an upside down sky and the exchange of a morning grin And my heart cannot speak, so heat blooms inside of my chest but one day it will, when we are both ready
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Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 10:33 AM UTC
What I will not allow
I want to study the crevices of your palms The palms you keep clenched in fists I wonder if the lines were any indication Of the tragedy you became Once supple with hope Touch bringing only affection You’ve forsaken yourself Now rough, riddled with desire The valleys and the cracks of your far gone hands Caressing scarlet letters, shaken and shuddering Gripping skin, a romance black and blue Forcing notions of love upon you Are there signs of ********** marked upon yourself To match the husks your vileness disfigured Palms outstretched onto raw naked skin Grip tightened, nails dug into unwilling hips I want to study the crevices of your palms Do the lines spell out names of those you see in your daze Were they carved out as you seized their remains Or were they born with you, sealing their fate
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Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 6:06 PM UTC
Palm reader
Lay vacant in the dirt, keep licking your wounds Tear off meat from the corpses, feed off the 'what ifs' Waste away with ghosts of what could've been Let yourself disintegrate along with a future that never came to be Or Pick yourself up. Directly apply anesthetic on the flesh. Ready the tourniquet. Brush off the dirt. Walk through the graves. The dead cannot be offended. Cross over tomb stones Step on the flowers. The dead cannot be offended. Leave the prayer beads Leave the dampness of your cheeks Leave the begging and the screaming The dead cannot hear your prayers The dead cannot wipe your tears The dead cannot comfort The dead cannot be offended Do not dig up graves They are dead Leave them to rot Walk out. All the way out. Leave the dead where they are meant to be, and let life in.
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Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 11:46 AM UTC
Leave the dead