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kjo
25/F
Your touch feels like the Grimm Reaper, grabbing hold of a soul. Like a wave shoving its watery hand down someone's throat. Like scraping an arm on a rusty swing set, a thousand roaches scuttling in between toes, ripping off a band-aid, pricking a thumb, piercing an ear. Your words are like a crocodile smiling. Like a Gucci bag in Chinatown. Like the nose of a plastic surgeon's daughter, a plant made of foam, a boy crying wolf, a Siren's song, an acrylic eyelash. Your presence is like a curdled carton of milk. Like an opera singer with a nasty cold. Like dirt that just won't leave your eye, a root canal on Christmas Day, hair being pulled, stubbing a toe, like the stench that I smell when you enter the room.
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Jan 26, 2020
Jan 26, 2020 at 1:42 PM UTC
Pleasant as a Sunburn
It takes my life its trials lessons triumphs And reduces them As if they didn’t make me As if they didn’t matter
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Jan 22, 2020
Jan 22, 2020 at 3:07 PM UTC
Because it shrinks me
It was something about the way you held me Like I was yours
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Jan 20, 2020
Jan 20, 2020 at 11:49 PM UTC
Something
What happens when you give your heart away? Do you lose you? Give everything? One large piece of self - and they consume it, and it’s gone? Do you multiply? Give away a version? Leave behind a copy -   a dupe, with no ability to update? Or do you form into another? Giving only a piece? Rename the file - myself_v2, missing only the data you gave? What happens? The people from before, who gave their hearts, their time and passion - they aren't me But what happened?
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Jan 15, 2020
Jan 15, 2020 at 6:12 PM UTC
What happens
I remember when I decided I'd write I sat and I wrote and I felt so proud So proud that I shared with her I wanted her to be proud too She laughed in my face She ******* laughed
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Jan 15, 2020
Jan 15, 2020 at 1:34 PM UTC
Writer
Off to wonderland it seems Far away from us and me Kept closed in tiny hands held warm But not mine Trifling over where I disappeared Maybe I’m the one in wonderland Feeling the same ache Every morning I wake up without you
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Dec 12, 2019
Dec 12, 2019 at 3:51 PM UTC
His Heart
I remember feeling warmth in almost overwhelming amounts Writing love notes to roll up in a bottle Saving pebbles to wear around my neck Now I feel disconnected Like watching a movie and seeing myself stumble through the plot Where has my heart gone? And why didn’t I notice when they took it?
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Dec 11, 2019
Dec 11, 2019 at 4:33 PM UTC
Cold
I miss you and I’m afraid Of the days We never left bed Head safe on your chest Fingers through hair Eyes closed Soft and strong My teddy bear Afraid of the days Spent drifting Through used books Into the gallery The stupid ceramic hippo Of “my angel” Of “baby” and “I love you” I miss you And I’m so afraid To remember
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Dec 8, 2019
Dec 8, 2019 at 11:37 AM UTC
Best friend
Ever wish you could interact with you? Be another person And experience being them And experience meeting you Is that self involved? Or anxiety induced? Both? I spend so much time ~ worrying ~ About how others feel About me I’d love to experience it And maybe believe Meeting me Isn’t as horrible as I think
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Dec 8, 2019
Dec 8, 2019 at 11:12 AM UTC
Unsure
I don’t think about it all the time But some of the time it comes to mind and I can’t get it out That time I tried to jump out of a window Ive considered the ways to make it prettier more poetic But like, it wasn’t I tried to jump out of a window and I did it in front of my mom I’ve read a few times that travel would make me better If you’re depressed You should get off the couch You should see the world You won’t feel so bad if you leave the house Well I was still depressed in Florence I did it in front of my mom while we were on vacation in Italy She took my passport away and locked it in the safe I don’t know how to make that poetic She told me I was a witch a **** I don’t know how to make that pretty I couldn’t leave We were on vacation in Italy and I couldn’t leave and she wouldn’t stop So I tried to jump The only pretty part was sitting on the windowsill Her voice was blocked and I felt the breeze on my toes as I dangled and looked down on the soft pink building below I love pink I was free But that beauty ended Brought back into the world her voice begging me to stay and promising to stop She pulled me back in and told me I did it for attention
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Nov 21, 2019
Nov 21, 2019 at 11:34 AM UTC
Firenze