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I'm Nudba. I think of words to say. Nothing comes out, so I write them down.
I've shackled her tightly in my mind Where rationale holds her stern But when the day wears to the dark The flame of my Temper begins to burn. She thrashes free of my restraint And grabs hold of my wretched desire. She tears the picture of his face To throw into the pit of my anguished fire. He does not think of you, she shouts, He does not hold you close to him. And with her fits and pointless cries I feel the anger begin to dim. When the light creeps through the curtains, She begins to tire from state of dread. I face the sun and truth with a smile And put my uneasy mind to bed.
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Dec 20, 2018
Dec 20, 2018 at 1:33 AM UTC
Letting it Out
I do not know What I feel for her But if it is something more Than what I wish for it to be May I forever remain Dissatisfied
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Dec 20, 2018
Dec 20, 2018 at 1:10 AM UTC
Unrequited
She mapped him out before she met him. When she saw him, she recognized The grooves of his smiling face, The rumbling sound of his voice, His fresh scent when he embraced her. When she saw him, she saw her map Embodied in man that reflected the future That she so longed to live, But never thought she would. He saw it in her, too. They drifted towards the calm sea With tomorrow stretching out before them On a boat where their bodies collided Like soft waves that engulfed one another. Their bond sent ripples into the water, Sizzled the skies with its urgency, Guiding the boat closer to the shore That seemed too looming. She didn't want to reach it. She had travelled the streets of her map In search of finding something to fulfill her- Something that wasn't there Out on the calm, open sea. They sailed to an island with greener grass, But with no winds to uplift her spirit. She had the map of him, But the map of her lay in treacherous water. She dived into the unknown.
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Dec 2, 2018
Dec 2, 2018 at 1:38 AM UTC
Swimming to Tomorrow
Dear You, When I first saw you, I thought you were unremarkable. I didn't know, then, that I would end up this way with my insides torn to shreds over the love I wish to give you. Perhaps you seemed unremarkable to me because your treasure lays inside of you, under the layers of humour and deceptive smiles. I saw a glimpse of your treasure when a brick fell from the towers you built to protect yourself. It was the night you told me what you willed no one else to know, a night where your defences were down. I was entranced for a while, caught up in the thoughts of all you were hiding and who you could be if you stepped out of the tower. This was dangerous territory. In attempting to reach you, I nearly fell into the moat that protects your structure. In my trance, I didn't realize you had not drawn me a bridge. I was not the one you wished to uncover your treasure. You crumpled my heart like a sheet of paper, threw it into the moat, but my mind was still shackled to you. In my thinking, I realized that I cannot help you. I cannot tear down your walls if you disarm me. So I have decided to let my heart wander away in the water, break the ties I have to you, and keep the love I cannot give away. I cannot care for you if you do not want me to. I cannot go against what you wish, and what you wish is for the touch of another to ease you into letting down your guard. You wish that someone finds you remarkable, but that someone must not be me. I walk away from your treasure and hope that one day, you will lower your bridge and let someone pick away at your walls. If that person does not exist, if no one again finds you and your hidden treasure remarkable, then remember that my torn heart still floats in the water you almost let consume me. If you would let me care for you, I could retrieve it. I could swim across the thrashing moat, speak to you through the hardened walls you've built. I could hope that this time, you would listen to my voice. For now, I leave you. Sincerely, Me
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Nov 11, 2018
Nov 11, 2018 at 7:16 PM UTC
To the Boy I Cannot Care For
Dear You, When I first saw you, I thought you were unremarkable. I didn't know, then, that I would end up this way with my insides torn to shreds over the love I wish to give you. Perhaps you seemed unremarkable to me because your treasure lays inside of you, under the layers of humour and deceptive smiles. I saw a glimpse of your treasure when a brick fell from the towers you built to protect yourself. It was the night you told me what you willed no one else to know, a night where your defences were down. I was entranced for a while, caught up in the thoughts of all you were hiding and who you could be if you stepped out of the tower. This was dangerous territory. In attempting to reach you, I nearly fell into the moat that protects your structure. In my trance, I didn't realize you had not drawn me a bridge. I was not the one you wished to uncover your treasure. You crumpled my heart like a sheet of paper, threw it into the moat, but my mind was still shackled to you. In my thinking, I realized that I cannot help you. I cannot tear down your walls if you disarm me. So I have decided to let my heart wander away in the water, break the ties I have to you, and keep the love I cannot give away. I cannot care for you if you do not want me to. I cannot go against what you wish, and what you wish is for the touch of another to ease you into letting down your guard. You wish that someone finds you remarkable, but that someone must not be me. I walk away from your treasure and hope that one day, you will lower your bridge and let someone pick away at your walls. If that person does not exist, if no one again finds you and your hidden treasure remarkable, then remember that my torn heart still floats in the water you almost let consume me. If you would let me care for you, I could retrieve it. I could swim across the thrashing moat, speak to you through the hardened walls you've built. I could hope that this time, you would listen to my voice. For now, I leave you. Sincerely, Me
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12
I am surrounded by the beautiful - By sweet smiles and soft laughs, By boys and girls who love each other And could love me if I stepped into Their Circle But I can't step in. I am trapped on the outskirts, Close enough that I know what I'm missing But too far to feel what they feel. Some stragglers creep to the corners of the Circle And try to speak to me But I can't respond. I want to be with the people who know That others mean something. I want to be with the beautiful people, And feel warmth in my ties to others. I want them to grab me and pull me in But I can't let them try. I think there is a reason I am Outside of the Circle. If I overcame the barrier of my own refusal I would bring ugliness to the beautiful. I would pollute the hearts of those who love By my own which cannot care.
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Nov 11, 2018
Nov 11, 2018 at 6:40 PM UTC
Outside the Circle
I searched for you between the cracks of dawn and dusk, riding the river streams, flying through the clouds, scaling the daunting mountains, hoping to catch a glimpse of you -- hoping you would catch a glimpse of me. I surfed the wind into coffee shops, bars, house parties and felt myself falling into the arms of beautiful and treacherous men with heartbeats that slowed down when the music of the night faded into the morning. I searched for you within ageing class photos, within high school memories of crooked smirks and cologne of boys whose bodies I've dreamt of knowing but never reached my grasp out to in fear that they wouldn't hold on. I searched for love in the bounties of nature and time, in what could have been and what was, in who he is and who he could be, but never have I searched for love where it should be brightest: within the hollows of my lonely self.
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Feb 17, 2018
Feb 17, 2018 at 9:30 PM UTC
Searching in the Wrong Places
my head's a balloon one blow away from bursting. please don't hit me, babe.
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Jan 2, 2018
Jan 2, 2018 at 2:15 AM UTC
unhappy new year
The black rain beats against my numbing skin. It feels of frostbite with no venom, of glass with no rough edges. It feels of days spent in front of my plate of food three years ago where I could taste the metallic flavour of a nuzzle and my own blood. It feels of the days spent in my room two years ago where the bedsheets would call my name and reach for me as soon as I kissed them good-bye. It feels of the days spent on the bus one year ago where I watched the passing twinkling streets and wished for a car to come and claim me. It feels of the days of hollowness these days where I realize I have not found cover from the rain. I have only stopped feeling it drench me in pitch black.
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Oct 15, 2017
Oct 15, 2017 at 1:37 AM UTC
black rain
I have twirled into the arms of a Prince with a petal-light touch holding my hips. He caresses me to the beat of the breeze of music that hammers in my heart: blood pounding with the thrill of that first night soon to come but not yet arrived. The Prince is a surreal, majestic garden- cheeks warm with the rosy blush of youthful blooming buds, eyes like the dawn cascading light onto wherever he peers. He peers at me. And as he leans in, with smiling dew-sprinkled lips like grass on a spring's morning, I realize his arms are vines. I realize I am trapped. The Prince is an overgrown garden, his rosy cheeks are of alcohol pumping in his veins. His body sways to beat the howling wind- the blaring music- caressing me to the beat of his own desires. My refusal is the deafening bloom of a sunflower in a field of sunflowers- unfelt. His lips are soaking in the liquid that sloshes in his solo cup, and churns in my rumbling stomach, a rain that drowned the crop. My Prince is not just my prince. He is the Prince of the countless girls he has swooned before tonight. As I stumble in his arms, I am a mistake waiting to happen. I am a mistake in a field of mistaken female flowers being entangled by the vines of self-titled Princes. Tomorrow, these Princes will say it is my mistake for not raising my fences to protect myself from the overgrowing garden that is stretching around me. Today, my blood pumps with fear of my first regretful night that approaches but has not yet arrived.
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Sep 30, 2017
Sep 30, 2017 at 1:28 AM UTC
A Garden of Princes
I have twirled into the arms of a Prince with a petal-light touch holding my hips. He caresses me to the beat of the breeze of music that hammers in my heart: blood pounding with the thrill of that first night soon to come but not yet arrived. The Prince is a surreal, majestic garden- cheeks warm with the rosy blush of youthful blooming buds, eyes like the dawn cascading light onto wherever he peers. He peers at me. And as he leans in, with smiling dew-sprinkled lips like grass on a spring's morning, I realize his arms are vines. I realize I am trapped. The Prince is an overgrown garden, his rosy cheeks are of alcohol pumping in his veins. His body sways to beat the howling wind- the blaring music- caressing me to the beat of his own desires. My refusal is the deafening bloom of a sunflower in a field of sunflowers- unfelt. His lips are soaking in the liquid that sloshes in his solo cup, and churns in my rumbling stomach, a rain that drowned the crop. My Prince is not just my prince. He is the Prince of the countless girls he has swooned before tonight. As I stumble in his arms, I am a mistake waiting to happen. I am a mistake in a field of mistaken female flowers being entangled by the vines of self-titled Princes. Tomorrow, these Princes will say it is my mistake for not raising my fences to protect myself from the overgrowing garden that is stretching around me. Today, my blood pumps with fear of my first regretful night that approaches but has not yet arrived.
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49
Men I don’t love Send me emails telling me that they care about people like me. They say, I am committed to helping people achieve their dreams by providing the right support. I want to thank you for your interest in utilizing this opportunity. The boy I know Sends me a message saying he saw potential in us. He writes, I wanted to help you become better. And when you spoke to me that first day, I thought that maybe we could become something greater than we are now. Together. Men that know me Send me emails saying that they liked learning what’s in my head.   They say, I recognize the time and effort you put into this and truly appreciate that you shared your thoughts and ideas with me. The boy that doesn’t love me Sends me a message saying he knows what he meant to me. He writes, I know how hard you tried to make this work. I think you’re amazing, how you always give your all into everything. How you gave your all to me. Men I don’t know Send me copy-paste emails that I have memorized. They say, There was an outstanding selection of applicants this year and the competition was intense. I regret to inform you that you were not selected to receive an award. The boy I love Sends me a message saying what Men I Don’t Know couldn’t. He writes, *It’s just that this isn’t what I’m looking for. You’re not who I am looking for.*
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Sep 6, 2017
Sep 6, 2017 at 12:49 AM UTC
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