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gemnahmaleybray
gemnahmaleybray
26 on earth they consider me / twenty-six and mentally ill / with big blue eyes and a stare that kills
with a face so purely divine, as if in his presence I wore lenses built solely to detect the most godlike of masterpieces—a preview of things holier than psalm written by the apostles themselves—he knew not of his masculine beauty and enchanting charm. I knew I would love him—perhaps I knew I already had. then he smiled and without a word his eyes told me he was thinking the same thing too.
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Jan 2, 2018
Jan 2, 2018 at 8:11 PM UTC
divinity
Love said, "Don't die, you are the dream our earth will always need & the hope our galaxy has been holding onto. You are all this Universe has been waiting for."
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Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 7:00 PM UTC
Love said, "
and then i heard life offer her a fairytale
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Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 7:00 PM UTC
life offer
spring is a blushing girl with a morning song.
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Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 6:59 PM UTC
spring
just a letter away are Miss Lovely & Mr. Lonely ah, but, very rarely do they write one another.
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Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 6:58 PM UTC
Mr. Lonely & Miss Lovely.
just before the Beginning of Time i Saw you, and you, me and i have missed you ever since.
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Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 6:58 PM UTC
the Beginning of Time
her smile made wilted Flowers reconsider their Fate and stormy Clouds re-evaluate their Fears.
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Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 6:57 PM UTC
her smile
while the Secrets slept the Demons crept and Angels forgot their duty.
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Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 6:56 PM UTC
while
I feel detached from myself and the world and the present. I feel my back against the bed but there's something that pitters and patters in the core of me—in my throat when I swallow, in my mind when I think, in my feet while I fidget here in this twin bed. I am exploding from the inside out. Every sound grinds into me. The cape cod breeze pushing the window shade back and forth makes a messy uniform of continuous slashes and scraps on the wood windowsill. The noise crushes my lungs. The fan at my feet makes its infamous soothing noise that does anything but. As I think and try to explain to you my feet fidget and shake and tap more and more with stronger force and extortion as each milisecond moves forth. The ticking clock watches me from her designated spot. Curious but not alarmed. My heart is racing. It's been racing. Against what? Who? Lots and lots of nothing's and no ones and again I find myself alone only with myself — the most lethal of company.
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Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 6:55 PM UTC
journal/entry
lingering on your breath was the taste of a drunk angel committing sins she'd regret in the morning.
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Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 6:54 PM UTC
lingering