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ashlynrimsky
25/F/Philadelphia honey, poems are for your play. / i want to see you sticky with sweat, / arms deep in it. dont pay attention / to the rulebook, have it your way. / theres no room for regret here / and i promise you wont have one. / just give it a try.
To the ghost Who just whispered Incoherently into my ear, Then tugged my feet And lit a cigarette: Its two AM. What the **** do you want? Please go back to sleep.
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Aug 26, 2024
Aug 26, 2024 at 2:03 AM UTC
2 AM Ghost
Dear Love, I found you in the back alley way near the barn on a bike and swimming in the glen. Saw you jump right in, *** out, into a freezing pool - middle fingers in the air like some weird baptismal funeral. I felt the weight of your losses on my shoulders like a backpacking trip from hell, and the way your lips pressed against one another in an empty room. Heard you laugh in an empty room and fill cars with God-awful karaoke, windows down and smiling the whole time. I tasted your tears when you laughed so hard that you cried, or cried so hard that you laughed, bittersweet like a chipwich in a 711 parking lot. Smelt your pain like a two-day-old dish just waiting to be scrubbed, and your happiness in clean clothes and roadside flowers. They say soul mates aren't real, its just who you put the work into. Each day I wake up to you, raw and real and still trying, still learning and loving and giving it your all, and honey that's just why I love, Myself
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May 8, 2023
May 8, 2023 at 2:34 PM UTC
Love, Myself
it slips and it dips. it falls to the wayside, like clothing on the floor or brown hair on a pillow. it waves in piles of misplacement that crash and fall, rippling and blurring from one day to the next.
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Mar 28, 2022
Mar 28, 2022 at 1:53 PM UTC
depress
There is more paint on my hands Than my canvas, Which is blessed with an image Of my dog's **** and I love it. There is a small stain Of yellow splattered memory From when I knocked over The paint tube for the 17th time, And no one yells. I love it. It is a Friday night at 24, My first night alone in my apartment. All of my friends are drinking, Or spending time with their partners, But I am here, drinking wine out the bottle, Sneaking leftovers out the fridge with my bare hands, Spilling paint all over my ******* self, Painting a silly doggy **** And for once I am happy Alone.
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Jan 14, 2022
Jan 14, 2022 at 10:03 PM UTC
Apt 3A
Everyone asks "Aren't you afraid To travel all alone?" I reply "Not at all. I am afraid To never have gone."
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Jan 1, 2022
Jan 1, 2022 at 6:52 PM UTC
Alone
I used to write a lot, I had a lot to say. These days I am quieter, It's easier that way.
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Dec 15, 2021
Dec 15, 2021 at 10:26 AM UTC
Missing: Tongue
I looked outside and saw The leaves had fallen off, The grass had yellowed Some time ago. I did not notice For quite some time. I saw my hands in the glow of clouds And wondered, How long has it been? How much time has gone by? I want so much more Than four walls and a bed, To simply wake up, pillow under my head, A meal in my stomach But I am simply fed up. The way set in place By society, blindly Tapping my way through A 9-5, 8-6, 7-9, Why? When did I lose The dream for something more? I am drowning, weighed down By rigid rules and indecision. I worry it's too late to save me.
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Dec 15, 2021
Dec 15, 2021 at 10:14 AM UTC
Cloud 9-5
Two grey sneakers On a narrow, dirt, Forgotten path. An indescribable, Unbearable urge: To run away. To have it. The boy, The girls, The dog. The house With a roast In the oven, An aroma of carrots In the air. Leaves colored And falling. A fire going. No where to be And be happy about it. What a dream, What a dream.
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Sep 14, 2021
Sep 14, 2021 at 6:00 PM UTC
Running on My Mind