Hello Poetry
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baidyn
baidyn
I am a sixteen year old girl, who expresses her feelings through soft and heavy words on paper. / Enjoy.
i don't want to be your girl i want to be your gun blowing off the heads of every ungrateful son
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Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 6:08 PM UTC
Weapons
my heart hurts for many things, you are more than one of the many
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Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 3:31 PM UTC
hurting heart
the birds sing for you, for all of us. the wind plays with your hair. the grass welcomes our tired and bare feet. the trees cool you, when you sit beneath them. there is so much in this world, ready to do anything for you.
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Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 9:15 PM UTC
earth
Darling, it is alright to take a day off. From the pain, the tiredness, the sadness, the stress. It is alright to find yourself. Or even to sleep a bit longer. It is alright.
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May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 1:23 PM UTC
It is alright
Please don't be alarmed when I ask if I can paint on your body. I just can't imagine a better canvas.
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Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 10:30 PM UTC
Canvas
If I had an autopsy, I fear that my heart would be too heavy to hold. For it is filled with raw emotions and it weighs my chest down with every last breath.
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Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 3:57 PM UTC
A Heart Is A Heavy Burden
In the early mornings, when I cannot find the motivation to get out of bed, I look at the books that I have not yet read. A wave of guilt washes of me. I turn to look at the unfinished drawings and the pencils that are still sharpened. A wave of guilt whispers to me. I roll over and see the empty words of stories, with the characters unpublished. A wave of guilt drowns me. It seems these days, I am nothing but Guilty.
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Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 4:16 PM UTC
Guilty
Ever since I put that blue pill inside my mouth, as it traveled down my throat into my stomach and while it made me happy, I couldn't piece together my words but I guess that I could only write when I felt broken and sad. I guess that it is the price to pay. To write I must be sad, To live I must be happy. To die I must write. To be born I must write. You see my problem?
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Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 4:32 PM UTC
Blue Pill
sometimes the wind rocks the swing outback and I remember all those times we sat together in the summer days
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Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 10:40 PM UTC
Our Swing
it's so beautiful watching something grow old
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Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 10:39 PM UTC
Old