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hannah-frances
hannah-frances
American
Steam rising, clinging onto my expression, sliding off my nose Forehead pressed against the harsh, cold tile My thoughts simmering and spurting But the water stifles the spinning Sweeping away undesirables Remorse, worries, sadness I smile as they swirl down the drain
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Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 2:35 PM UTC
Steam
I now fear the act of writing These things I have to say Jotting them down, scribbling them out Folding into secrecy, stowing them away Slipping an array of papers into a back pocket Or resort to hiding them under the bed Doing everything and anything in my power To get these thoughts out of my head For if I write down these musings, Set them into words sturdy, finite, and clear Then I will have to face the truth hidden in catharsis And that is what I ultimately fear— A hidden meaning behind my words Thus far lurking, but now they show Leaping off the page, consuming me whole Something, about myself, I didn’t want to know
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May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 7:30 PM UTC
Phobia
I couldn’t define it. Words tricked from my lips A babbling brook of incoherence Grasping for phrases, attempting to capture Something so perfectly intangible. I couldn’t build walls around it Hold onto and confine it With explanations and reasoning Boundaries of sanity, a cushion of protection I just couldn't find a way To nestle it away safely Within the recesses of my soul Amongst the other “boxes” I’ve created To compartmentalize life.
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May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 12:11 PM UTC
Boxes
I found your brother As I went for a walk Through the grass and marble We had our silent talk He listened wordlessly And caught my tears Even though he couldn't speak He unmasked your fears Leaving him a flower, I cleaned up his headstone I said goodbye to a boy I will never meet Understanding why you feel alone
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May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 12:04 PM UTC
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