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hayley-neininger
hayley-neininger
American North Carolina Coast / Whisky / Science / Swear words / http://www.soundcloud.com/second-nature-aristocracy / Hear it.
Every now and then I miss you terribly What a cruel way my heart remembers To tell my brain I love you. And what a crueler way my mouth Never told you.
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Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 2:08 AM UTC
The Boy
When I was a little girl I wanted to be beautiful Like the princesses I grew up watching I wanted to look like a sunset Feel like velvet Sound like the prose Spoken by lovers in the throws Of shedding of every stich of their clothes And in a nose I would smell like a rose Every sense sensed of me would Make sense of me Since sensing me would be like sipping sweet sensuality But now that girls want is a woman’s burden Because I am beautiful And men flock to me as the ocean flocks to the shore As Desdemona feel in love with the moor As the lion is obligated to his roar But I want more Than to be beautiful More than the summers day I can be compared to More than the ways you can count to I want to more than just inspire the lyre that plays a song I want to make the notes it plays I want to write down everything it sings for days ¬¬to Put into words truth as beauty And beauty as not always truth To have the eyes of angels but be ****** for their knowledge That creating beauty holds less weight than when its clear on your face But by grace I will still always want to be viewed as the poet and not the poem
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Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 1:08 AM UTC
Poet, Not A Poem.
I wouldn’t call myself a princess I know that because I cut my foot when my glass slippers shattered I blead all over the shards then tied wire around them So those stained glass pieces would let you see the world Through rose colored glasses Because I woke up one morning to you cutting off my long golden hair You said it was because every time you tossed in your sleep You’d get tangled and tug it and you didn’t want to ever hurt me Never realizing that hair was the only way I could reach you Because I lost my voice and my legs loving you My throat raw from yelling and legs too seasick to walk away But you said you liked it better that way It was easier for you to kiss a mouth that didn’t move And touch a body that always stayed So, no, I’m not a princess But we are kind of in a fairy tale Our story was a lie whispered to children at night It was a dragon guarding nothing It was the result of spells and potions It was a silent mirror It was just some made up mythical fairy’s tale
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Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 6:27 PM UTC
Princess.
Hundreds of thousands of years from now I hope they’ll find my bones Cradled in the womb of this earth And the archeologists- as careful as midwives Would scoop me up, brush me off And deliver me from the dust Then when they softly blow off the rest of the soil from my skeleton Ever so softly for a better look at what I used to be They’ll see my sandy frame and they’ll **** their heads to the side In wonder when they notice two sets of bones Yours gingerly entangled with mine And as they pick up the pieces of us That used to be we They can’t tell them apart, which parts were mine And which parts you lent to me.
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Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 7:55 PM UTC
Bones.
Until we have to leave Let’s set fire to the royal garden Breathe in heavy all the smoke And then call it intense Make our bed in grassy fields And on sandy beaches So we have room to roll around Put up our middle fingers to the law And kiss each other in the streets Once the government outlaws touching I’ll call you poison And you’ll call me morphine Like they’re our ******* names Remind the world that when Satan made hell He took notes from when we said our goodbyes.
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Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 8:32 PM UTC
Remember.
Come to me early in the morning After all the world's bombs have been dropped in the ocean When fish and whales scream silent to men And their bodies wash ashore broken Come to me as a jellyfish afterwards Lying on a beach like a fractured glass heart Solid enough to be buried in the sand But shattered enough to never swim again.
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Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 8:14 PM UTC
Ocean, Bombs.
You could take apart thunder with your teeth The lighting in your mouth Could light up any stretch of sky The boom in your voice Could make a thousand ripples In any glass of water I hold in my hand No matter where on earth I stand.
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Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 8:11 PM UTC
Ripples.
I’m violent by nature Where even the fondest of nurture Has only ever been enough to barely suppress The violence that slips into my unconscious silence But all these violent thoughts I keep safe Sitting on a bar stool alone with them A couple dozen other people around me Staring at me buying me drinks Wanting to lace their Fingers around the base of my skull Wanting to pull my thoughts forcefully out of me But I never let them I will never let them get to you- my violent thoughts Don’t worry I’ll never let them touch you I’ll never sell you out Instead I’ll go home alone tonight, sed for your quiet company And lay in my bed and let your circle up in me Spinning around until you are comfortable enough To spill yourself out onto my dreams And so you do and unapologetically unleash Every single thought of hate and of spite That in my consciousness you are too modest to show.
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Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 9:56 PM UTC
Silent Violence.
I never noticed the sound before When I stumble into sleep at night The sound of a thousand Militant ants crawling through my thoughts Eating them up Creating mazes of my memories Now its all I can do to muffle their mouths Munching on my membranes Mimicking movements of mimes sprayed with mace Pacing through their tunnels trotting past my Old thoughts and lingering ideas It’s all I can hear now When I stumble into sleep at night The slow decay of the little things in my brain And the hope they eat you away with everything else.
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Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 9:51 PM UTC
Sounds At Night.
The difference between me and her is that I was built for this **** I was forged in heartbreak and birthed into quiet suffering, but I’ve conquered my demons and I’ve slept with angels. I’ve been taken advantage of, I’ve robbed, lied and lied to, I’ve been hungry and full, I’ve been drug through the mud and then after I’ve washed myself off time and time again. I was built for this **** to be the stronger person. To be the person who won’t fall apart, the person who- over time will mend my tiny broken and cut up heart till all that’s left is a bruise and I’ll live with it. To be the person who can take rejection off the hands of someone who wasn’t built for that kind of **** Never think of me as shattered, but rather a mosaic off all the battles I’ve lost and won. That’s the difference. I can take this ****
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Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 9:42 PM UTC
The Difference.