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happyfunfake
Christopher Poindexter is AMAZING!! / / Message me, if you want. I love talking to and learning more about interesting people. (and of course you're interesting, you're on this website!)
A poem a day keep insanity at bay! or sanity at bay, honestly either one goes.
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Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 7:23 PM UTC
A Poem A Day
I don't know if I can feel love anymore. I know that there's many people who care a lot about me, but I don't know where the warm fuzzy feeling in my chest went. I only feel pain. I only feel my ghosts replace the air in my lungs with poison, as they curl up inside me, so I can't breathe. I don't know if I can feel relaxed anymore. I know there are times where I'm not completely tense, but I don't know how to relax my shoulders, because they're always tensed up to protect me. I only feel anxiety gripping me tighter everyday. I only feel fuzzy, not in my heart, but in my head. I don't know what happened to the good feelings, because all I feel is pain.
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Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 7:11 PM UTC
I Don't Know If I Can Feel Love Anymore
I've had grit in my eyes for so long. I've had sleep stuck in my eyelashes for so long, refusing to sink and rest. This is the kind of grit that I cannot wipe away not the kind of tired I can sleep away. I've so tired for so long. When will it go away? It will go away, right?
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Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 10:27 PM UTC
Grit Covered Eyes
I heard you today, calling my name. The first person to give me that nickname I heard it clearly, your voice ringing in the school corridor. I raced around the corner, so desperate to see you. The teasing smile in your voice, like the way you called after me when you wanted my attention, when you wanted to tell me something. I waited, waited for you to say something more. But I realized that you are another person who has forgotten me. The voice wasn't real, but I could swear that it was. You are haunting me, your ghost calling to me. You are stealing my sanity, making me delusional. I'm losing my grip on reality.
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Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 11:21 PM UTC
Stealing My Sanity
It's been nearly a year, and it still hurts. It still hurts so much! It hurts to say your name, you still haunt me as persistently as last year. My ghost, my lovely ghost. I cried so hard last night I couldn't breathe. Doubled over and crouching down gasping for air. Why does it hurt me so much? When it's obvious you're fine. You're so much better off now, but I'm not bitter. I want you to be happy, but I want you to miss me. I want to know that I haven't been forgotten, that our friendship meant something to you. But I know how hard you're trying to erase me from your past. And I can't help but miss you.
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Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 10:22 PM UTC
It still hurts
My Therapist said that I have abandonment issues, says that I tend to idolize the people who leave me, She says that I build shrines for those who leave, and tombs for those who stay.
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Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 8:39 PM UTC
Shrines For Those Who Leave
My uncle used to tell me that the clouds would get lonely so they would come to the ground in fog form to hang out. But now I think that the clouds and the ground are secret lovers, but everyone is against them. The sky separates them and the humans have terrible accidents when they get lost in it. Humans get lost in the thickness of their love. There is no softer breath-taking kiss than when the fog kisses the ground.
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Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 6:44 PM UTC
When The Fog Kisses The Ground
I love you I love you I love you More than you could ever know More than anyone ever hopes to be loved. More than you can understand. More than you can fathom. A limitless, unconditional, fierce love. The kind that comes like a passionate hurricane and still soft and sweet like morning fog. That's how much I love you. Know that I never knew love until I met you and you unlocked doors to emotions that I never thought were real. This fierce romantic love never roared until you awakened it That's why I always said that you saved my life. Because you did. I was dead, the pain was so much and then you came in, bringing with you euphoria that I only ever experienced in small doses. But holy **** when you walked into the room my blood felt like it was on fire. A yearning and craving unlike anything I'd ever experienced before, not just to feel your body but to know your mind. To know and behold all quirks of your personality, everything. I wanted to be completely submersed in the universe that is your mind. So now do you understand what I mean when I say "I love you" ?
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Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 8:43 PM UTC
Now do you understand?
She was real and not like other people were "real" she was so real and tangible she made everyone else I had ever met fade into the background. Have you ever met someone like that? Someone so real that everything else fades? She was potent and tangible mysterious and raw she had no limits everything she said was potent with a life of its own. We spoke in a language no one else understood. A language we crafted ourselves. I felt so unspeakably honored to get to know her but like all beautiful things, they leave. and she left. she was infinity, and i did not deserve her.
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Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 11:53 AM UTC
She was real
Happiness is a fickle friend It comes unexpectedly, though usually with reason and leaves much too soon. It has never confined itself to our time, never regular and always fleeting. It's quite sad. at least periods are somewhat regular, though they never bring joy and only seem to tell you that you're not pregnant. Funny, though, isn't it? How things that bring us pain (emotional and physical) are regular visitors compared to Happiness everyone's fickle friend.
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Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 11:55 AM UTC
Fickle friend