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disjointed
23/F/Manila earnest declaration of mediocrity
i am the savior i shall want i am my god i shall not blaspheme but the devil comes to me in my sleep in the form of a woman battered and beat a little girl with a big feat funnily enough she reminds me of me
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Dec 19, 2023
Dec 19, 2023 at 4:24 AM UTC
inner child
may i forever be a coward for when i find courage i will be dead
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Dec 19, 2023
Dec 19, 2023 at 4:16 AM UTC
Untitled
to you whom i hold near — you've yet to receive my heart each beat is ridden with your name writhing, bursting in pain that is to be without your gaze though you have mine in all your days to you whom i hold high — do you feel the breeze i've yet to feel? how does it feel to be loved for nought, but for and from all i've got? you float, but i keep the line taut allow me this — to fly, you cannot
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Jul 30, 2023
Jul 30, 2023 at 4:42 PM UTC
to you
you know me a little too much and a little too not enough you know me in a way no one else will ever know you can never tell my hair or toes apart nor my fingers to my eyes but you know what's mine my words, my song all things that make you feel
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Sep 16, 2021
Sep 16, 2021 at 4:00 AM UTC
the way you know me
then they are cruel for i have wailed and kicked and begged for this felt pain to be taken. i've longed for the end constantly, even in times when i forget.
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Aug 12, 2021
Aug 12, 2021 at 12:53 PM UTC
if there is a god
it has been fortunate to have travelled stories with my hands hands of my own felt rise and fall, heave and ** and to and fro the tincture of air engulfs the absent trees: ***** trunks, grotesque and amiss, inferior to my hands a bashful melody escapes my mouth. sonically stimulating, a tinge of an aurgasm i mourn humbly for ye who have not travelled far. feel the hills, your deep valley, the gangling stems, soft blades that shy beneath you. i mourn for myself a quiet tantrum whispering for i have joy spilling like a spring of life just within my reach. i will never know more than the clockwork stories my hands have told
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Apr 18, 2020
Apr 18, 2020 at 4:14 PM UTC
out of touch
the onset of my descending mind: - i remember it well a baby flower barely a flower picked it up told it to grow grow GROW NOW GROW scolding, screaming ripped it apart, unfolded its wings. desperately tried to retreat tried to fix itself irrevocably exposed efforts wasted seethingly hurt crying CRYING why did i do that the foreshadowing of my comeuppance
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Apr 16, 2020
Apr 16, 2020 at 3:39 PM UTC
bud pried open
blind happiness in satisfaction with what? what is that? i never knew her i saw her once in a dream daydream bloodstream existing, not living who was she i saw her im supposed to be her? who is her i wanted to be her i was her i wanted to be more i fell i wasn't her i don't want to be her anymore i don't want to be me anymore i don't want me skin gets thicker heavier how do i get out i never could get out
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Apr 16, 2020
Apr 16, 2020 at 3:28 PM UTC
d
my favorite part of the day could never be the morning when we're new people and hesitant strangers but it's when your smile is the brightest and your kisses are the softest my favorite part of the day could never be the afternoon when there's minimal talking and maximal noise but it's when silence gets blissful and comfortable my favorite part of the day is the night when you're vulnerable and tired, yet smiling when your arms touch my skin like satin when i can see stars in your eyes but alas, the brightest stars are the ones yet to fade the soonest
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Jul 15, 2017
Jul 15, 2017 at 1:34 PM UTC
my favorite part of the day