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hcs-words
21/F/Copenhagen Tryna create a safespace for myself between the lines.
My eyes blink shutterclicks against the sun. She is so bright as she paints   A sky that is so blue and a grass so green. Today I can't swallow the weight in my chest Today the sun is so bright Too bright.
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Sep 29, 2020
Sep 29, 2020 at 9:17 AM UTC
Today
To taste a tangerine dream You must sit silent. You must sit and listen as the sun sets golden- Pink flickers licking at the surface of the sea, As it moves, In time with the moon and his rising And falling to the curve of the earth. To see peace you must sit still. You must feel deep and listen To gravity's beck and call. Watch while we twirl And let go with the flow of it all, Feel how slow we move Waltzing circles round the sun. Here you will find me - Find us all. If only you stop for a second, To taste the awe of it all.
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Mar 27, 2020
Mar 27, 2020 at 3:41 PM UTC
Tangoed
I can feel the cogs in my brain getting loose again, Not quite fitting - not quite spinning in time, Spitting sparks that fly, ignite and burn Bringing light to dark corners and melting locks that keep the past in its box. I pandora, so out of time, moving towards and away from you As I find my feet dancing in complex rhythms Driven by the drums of my demons that have learnt to remove their muzzles and sing Do you see this vessel shake out of tune? Do you feel the tremors that set muscles moving to the moments of memory? There is a girl that wants you to notice and wrap her up There is a girl that wants you to notice and give her up There is a girl that hopes you never notice something is up In my head again, Upheaved I can't quite sit still again, can't quite smile straight again. can't quite sleep right again so these pills sit tight on my tongue again Blue like my blood that calls out for more Blue like the bruises only my eyes still see Blue like the unsafe flame our science teacher warned us of, This blue has become apart of the essence of me Hot, I flicker in shades of the ocean, And blue flames flicker with violence I move blue, I move blind, With these waves in my mind That crash hard And lap slow. I can only apologise for the temper of my tides This sea is angry still, sad still, yet loves you still. I pray ur boat sails strong.
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Feb 28, 2020
Feb 28, 2020 at 2:28 PM UTC
I burn in shades of blue
I still get a little dizzy when u kiss me; Like the world turns a little faster; Tilts a little more on its axis - As our lips touch. So time for you and time for me passes slower. As the rest of the world watches; I am left feeling a little out of spin; A little out of sync; And a little more in love.
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Feb 28, 2020
Feb 28, 2020 at 2:20 PM UTC
Woozy with love
When we are apart at night; I find us behind the closed curtains of my eyelids; Against the side of my skull where you have me pushed. Back brushes bone As I lie on foreign sheets My fingers lace the curls in your hair As yours curl my throat and finger the lace That slips from my skin to the floor. Your are not between these four walls and never have treaded the space that they hold Yet still your scent sends sparks skittering as they spill up and over these spinal slopes Our mouths meet with welcome; And tongues intertwine in time to touch Teasing - my teeth find a grip upon your lips; And pull, to lead, in my mind, As we move to the bed of the brain. Alone at night I am flushed hot; By the infernal cells that conjure you here. With your skin against mine; Above and beneath me; We move in time to the rythm of blood, And waltz through valves from chamber- To chamber as I am reminded; The thought of you is the thread that should never be pulled; But always is; And I did and I do; Call me your most impatient play-thing As each neuron leads to the next Forming circuits that race me to you. Each image-sensation floods this vessel till I am sunk, weakly overcome, By the mix of memories that meet and merge, Warm like the tides soaked in sunlight. I swear by the power of the moon: With every wave I am pulled an inch closer to you.
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Feb 28, 2020
Feb 28, 2020 at 1:47 PM UTC
Upon the bed of the brain
The kids are high; Their Liquored lips lifting To swell with holes in their eyes; Like black jewels they shine; Deep pools to let in extra light; Extra love; They are hot with an extra warmth And how it shows; Glows from within skins flushed slick and salty. The kids are high; And they are sitting in a circle; They hug one another and stroke each others hair; They retell their favourite stories; And confess their kindest compliments with their softest smile All the while they would swear; They have never felt so happy; Or so humanly connected. The kids are high; So I guess you should call the police. Tell them about the risks of delinquents on drugs. The kids are high; And they have never been more at peace. The kids are high; So they must be a danger. The kids are high; And they are truly happy. The kids are high; And you hate them for it - How dare they take pills you didn't prescribe? The kids are high of their accord. Do you think they are troubled? Or do you think they are bored? The kids are high; And they are dancing Dancing with a devil you waltzed with once, When you too were young, The kids are high; And for each step tread Down your footprint path You hate them. The kids are high And they love you. The kids are high Mind the irony.
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Dec 15, 2019
Dec 15, 2019 at 6:51 PM UTC
The Kids are High
I listen as your throat fills up again Spilling tainted tales of torment That twist till your tongue ties itself In knots to form a new shape of you. You will talk until I am convinced. Talk until the riddles stumble Upon sense And I will listen until your face turns blue. I see the knot you've become. A contortionist - you seem set on self mutilation; While I watch wincing With every sharp angle your tangles Take you. It must hurt to paint your body with my blood. It must hurt to push your feet Into shoes not built for you. And I know you'll never find her The shell you've moulded your shadow to fit; As I too have played dress up in fantasy clothing; And trust in me that they never hang well. But I hope one day you find her; The girl I met back then; With a figure that wore her own words, Because I really did like her; I just wish you had liked her too.
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Dec 15, 2019
Dec 15, 2019 at 6:28 PM UTC
To a girl lost in letters,
After all the things that have been done; To the skin this body is forced wear; My brain has evolved a loaded gun Dispatched to axe each love affair So when we both to ****** come With my fingers wound within you hair Somehow I lack the urge to run And I guess a trust like ours is rare.
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Jul 14, 2019
Jul 14, 2019 at 7:05 PM UTC
Unloading a loaded gun
The first time was in the bathroom Of a club I was four years too young for; Lessons would be learnt; Bent over a broken sink; With my face pressed against the mirror; My mascara ran rivers down the glass Carving lines that looked like prison bars. With rough hands; He reached inside me; And broke instruments I hadn’t yet touched; No wonder I couldn’t play love songs, I was still learning how to make love to people I actually loved; But my 14 years were too few to be angry Didn’t quite know how Didn’t know quite what he’d done; And what that might do. So I hid my thighs and ribs for three weeks ashamed; My fake ID collected dust Buried beneath my bed and self-blame. That first encounter, Left me frozen in an un-safe space I couldn’t name So I wanted time to stop its ticking, Hold its breath and bite it’s tongue with me An indefinite moment of silence to commemorate the crime committed, But lessons would be learnt As to my horror the cogs in the clocks kept rolling, Every day since has stacked upon the last, Racking up years 15: it took more than 365 days to dare to share the guilt, 16:  over 730 to absolve myself, 17: 1095 to say what had happened out loud. The second time was in my kitchen, He was a friend between blurred lines; And ten drinks too many; Lessons will be learnt. I don't remember leaving with him Or getting home. But I’ve never known how to have *** sober so I guess it’s my fault too. I woke up with an ache and my shoes still on. There were no bruises; we are still friends; and I still don’t know who to blame. The third time, I was walking home, the air was fresh, I had my headphones on; Lessons would be learnt. His fingers were dry and nails sharp as I froze; It felt familiar; His breath was hot; Soaked wet with alcohol. The bricks hit my back hard But I like to think my knuckles hit harder. I saw my mother the week after I did not cry as I explained a  purple hand. At least I had known where to aim it. The fourth time, I knew he was dangerous and I liked it, Lessons would be learnt With my hands bound above my head He took control and mine with it; He savoured every scream I spat; So I, silently simmering, left my body there sickly still. I am not a believer but I told him he’d rot in a hotter part of hell As he unbuckled me with a malboro red and a laugh that I choked on So I took the cigarette and gave him a dose of what the devil will do for me, A small vengeance that burnt like the venom in my veins I have felt like flames so many times now Been consumed by violent flickers, That set this bloodied body ablaze, But even the biggest bonfires burn out, And I am no different My bones are black with char like wearied wood So when I take the train home I count my bruises; I'm unsure which ones were left without consent.
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Jul 13, 2019
Jul 13, 2019 at 7:45 PM UTC
Lessons will be learnt.
The first time was in the bathroom Of a club I was four years too young for; Lessons would be learnt; Bent over a broken sink; With my face pressed against the mirror; My mascara ran rivers down the glass Carving lines that looked like prison bars. With rough hands; He reached inside me; And broke instruments I hadn’t yet touched; No wonder I couldn’t play love songs, I was still learning how to make love to people I actually loved; But my 14 years were too few to be angry Didn’t quite know how Didn’t know quite what he’d done; And what that might do. So I hid my thighs and ribs for three weeks ashamed; My fake ID collected dust Buried beneath my bed and self-blame. That first encounter, Left me frozen in an un-safe space I couldn’t name So I wanted time to stop its ticking, Hold its breath and bite it’s tongue with me An indefinite moment of silence to commemorate the crime committed, But lessons would be learnt As to my horror the cogs in the clocks kept rolling, Every day since has stacked upon the last, Racking up years 15: it took more than 365 days to dare to share the guilt, 16:  over 730 to absolve myself, 17: 1095 to say what had happened out loud. The second time was in my kitchen, He was a friend between blurred lines; And ten drinks too many; Lessons will be learnt. I don't remember leaving with him Or getting home. But I’ve never known how to have *** sober so I guess it’s my fault too. I woke up with an ache and my shoes still on. There were no bruises; we are still friends; and I still don’t know who to blame. The third time, I was walking home, the air was fresh, I had my headphones on; Lessons would be learnt. His fingers were dry and nails sharp as I froze; It felt familiar; His breath was hot; Soaked wet with alcohol. The bricks hit my back hard But I like to think my knuckles hit harder. I saw my mother the week after I did not cry as I explained a  purple hand. At least I had known where to aim it. The fourth time, I knew he was dangerous and I liked it, Lessons would be learnt With my hands bound above my head He took control and mine with it; He savoured every scream I spat; So I, silently simmering, left my body there sickly still. I am not a believer but I told him he’d rot in a hotter part of hell As he unbuckled me with a malboro red and a laugh that I choked on So I took the cigarette and gave him a dose of what the devil will do for me, A small vengeance that burnt like the venom in my veins I have felt like flames so many times now Been consumed by violent flickers, That set this bloodied body ablaze, But even the biggest bonfires burn out, And I am no different My bones are black with char like wearied wood So when I take the train home I count my bruises; I'm unsure which ones were left without consent.
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And I know, 'Just one last time' Has been uttered too many times, Over these white lines, But whatever kills the cravings, Sweet amnesia - drag me deeper, And wrap me up, Cocoon me in your sweetest daze Take me on my favourite ride, And bleach these teardrops dry. I knew this time would arrive again; My weighted eyes and tired insides; My not so central nervous system set awry, With twitching fingers and flickering eyes. Tell my mother I'm sorry. I'm at the doctor's door again, To me this is no surprise.
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Jul 13, 2019
Jul 13, 2019 at 11:38 AM UTC
Again