Eight year old me cries out for me
Fourteen year old me gives me the best bus routes to purposely get lost so i wouldn’t have to go home.
Seventeen year old me stares blankly at the family wall, wishing she did well raising her siblings.
Twenty Two year old me comforts me, singing the lullabies i begged to hear when I was five.
but now; Twenty year old me is begging that she can hold down the fortress just a little longer.
Feb 16, 2022
Feb 16, 2022 at 12:15 AM UTC
if instagram did not let you know
that someone unsent a message
i would unsend the last text i sent you
just so you remember me as lovely
not bitter.
Apr 28, 2020
Apr 28, 2020 at 5:42 AM UTC
the hand of a lover
caressing your cheek
in a darken room
only to learn
the hand of a lover
caressing your cheek
in a darken room
was only your loneliness
ready to consume.
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 4:35 AM UTC
I always thought Romeo and Juliet were overrated
What kind of lover would die for the other
The gullible beautiful girl to fall
for such a mesmerizing ****
My breath was not held when Shakespeare wrote
“ O happy dagger, / This is thy sheath “
For what kind of woman who would **** her self over a man
I was raised to know my worth,
to **** every inch of self respect up
I would not die for any lover
and live only for myself
I always thought Romeo and Juliet were overrated
until I had met a lover
my heart soars with sonnets
my lips speak love letters
I would have gladly swept her from any harm
the only mesmerizing **** was my vile tongue
convincing me love was not a shakespearean play
Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 8:02 PM UTC
Oh Ophelia,
My Sweet, Ophelia
She who tastes like huckleberries
and smells like wild cherries.
Oh Ophelia,
My Sweet, Ophelia
She who loves to bathe in the lagoon
and dry in the mid sun afternoon.
Oh Ophelia
My Sweet, Ophelia
She who could not bear her fathers death
and took her last breath.
Oh Ophelia
My Sweet Ophelia
She who drowned in her lagoon
and the earth shall never hear her tune.
Oh Ophelia
My Sweet Ophelia
She who loved deep
and now she is asleep.
Oh Ophelia
My Tragic, Ophelia.
She who is incapable of her own distress
and I, must confess.
Oh Ophelia
You, are Tragedy.
Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 7:48 PM UTC
love is the loneliest feeling in the world
it makes me feel lonely
it makes me sit at a coffee shop in agony
aware of the fast paced world around me
no matter how much i try to reach out
it will never be close enough
no one will ever be close enough
i am lonely in love
even being alone,
is better than being with a lover and feeling
totally, alone.
Apr 9, 2020
Apr 9, 2020 at 6:06 AM UTC
i was yours
i always thought i would be yours
i believed i would be yours
i was not yours
i thought wrong,
i know not a thing of beliefs
for i am not yours
and am on a negative scale
i do not have beliefs,
for you are not mine
you were mine, long after i was not yours
you did not attend church of truth; no beliefs
you did not have an unbalanced scale
you were mine
nine months of pure love
or so i thought; i thought wrong
i had beliefs and truths
i wish you were never mine
for you have made me believe solemnly
that i am always wrong,
i am unworthy
Apr 8, 2020
Apr 8, 2020 at 5:56 AM UTC
for i will never fly
i am an icarus of my time
i am melting.
Apr 8, 2020
Apr 8, 2020 at 5:49 AM UTC
i have come to realize,
one day there will be a final curtain call on Youth,
and that,
the clouds that present themselves as mountains,
on the horizon of colourful life,
are to far for a mortal to touch,
to grasp and to hold,
for the youth that is holding me now;
will soon be like the clouds that possess, themselves as mountains,
on the horizons of life.
for my youth,
will soon be too far to reach,
and that the horizon of colourful life,
will soon be a wretched black sky,
for my youth, is not for me to hold forever.
Apr 8, 2020
Apr 8, 2020 at 5:15 AM UTC
I could never love you,
the way people think I can
I love you in many ways,
complex ways, simple ways, hard ways
but never the way people think I can.
I love you as much as the universe loves her stars,
I love you as much as the rain hitting your bare skin.
but never in the way people think I can.
They think I can only love someone
lightly, softly, friendly, platonically
I love you as Alexander the Great loved Hephaestion.
Secretly, deeply, intensely.
Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 9:28 PM UTC