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maire-rolin
Sweden I'm from Sweden and I'm 17, I got 5 dogs and I love them all. / My hobbies include: drawing, making poems, singing. / I hate spiders and rude people who interrupt.
Homebound, on the trail to new horizon. Lost town, forgotten from where the trail was and where it began. Like roses and cherry blossoms, beauty isn’t forever. I admire the concrete, the cement, the asphalt and rocks, at least they stay. The songs I sing, lost their melody and beauty. I head to concrete city Where the hearts are exchanged for pennies and forgotten memories. For once the leaf, the bird, and the frog.. aren’t things I admire. I now find love and resonance in the solidness of structure, And then maybe my heart won’t rupture.
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Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 3:47 AM UTC
A rock by the ocean
I dipped my pen in ink, Then later washed it off in the sink, Papers everywhere, But still no one's here. I fall through myself lightly as if slow motion I desire promotion though I need to be dipped in the pacific ocean. To freeze my furious heart i'd need a million maybe billion liters of tears. To let myself disappear.
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Feb 21, 2018
Feb 21, 2018 at 12:12 PM UTC
Dipped in ink
There are too many things untold, too many to let anything unfold, it's trapped in it's own trap, distracted by it's own call, If I'd help I'd rather do nothing at all because my nothing is always at my beck and call. Even as I lay asleep, I find the darkness of mine, stirring beneath, the inky dark taking hold and I find nothing, nothing at all.
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Nov 23, 2017
Nov 23, 2017 at 12:12 PM UTC
Mind trap
I held my heart in tight strings hoping to never let anything in alas there was but one one who came along singing a familiar song they told me things were fine in this purgatory of mine I said yes indeed but I am still shackled by your heart and by my grief Let nothing be if it doesn't need to be freed by misery and greed
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Nov 23, 2017
Nov 23, 2017 at 12:03 PM UTC
The truth
The walls of my heart are breaking, my mind's demons are playing on the edge. It feels as though madness is an old friend, a toxic one. I played with the rose's thorns and pricked my finger. My blood drowning my feelings and I turn to stone. Not the beautiful kind, the one with cracks and dirt, roots are controlling my place and I looked into the eye of despair. Twisting and turning to my last words; "Au Contraire, mon fraire".
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May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 11:22 AM UTC
A dangerous dance
The walls of my heart are breaking, my mind's demons are playing on the edge. It feels as though madness is an old friend, a toxic one. I played with the rose's thorns and pricked my finger. My blood drowning my feelings and I turn to stone. Not the beautiful kind, the one with cracks and dirt, roots are controlling my place and I looked into the eye of despair. Twisting and turning to my last words; "Au Contraire, mon fraire".
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May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 11:22 AM UTC
A dangerous dance
The streets of the city echoes with brutal history The thundering clapping of hands signify a wonderful thing If you walked this street with an open heart you'd soon be harmed... cut with scars... The egomaniacs The narcissists and the heartbroken reside here... beware.. you're already there...
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Feb 10, 2017
Feb 10, 2017 at 4:26 AM UTC
*Cruel intentions*
Oh so bitter, the honey coated poison, Thus was thought this time, I’d be different, but the table turned on me, now none is free.. You say: I care, I really do… But the only I hear are the last words, but not for you. Your skin pale, eyes slitted, poisonous venom.. every soundtrack of your wordplays: only mean, I care when thou is necessary. When I am a necessity, an item.. You take my hand in lose grip, and hope.. I’ll fall for it, I’d say yes but you’re a trickster. None took until it was said what was craved, you say the eyes are the window of the soul. So that’s why you close your eyes when you say …. You’re not needed.
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Jan 14, 2017
Jan 14, 2017 at 6:34 AM UTC
Poison promise
Here I am thrown across the room my feelings are in a disarray what is right what is wrong You make me question where I belong You insist upon never letting me know telling the truth in wicked ways monstrous desire to let you go but your grip is tight and so is your glare Of all poisons I like yours the best drawing me in and throwing me out Withdrawals on high love is low I am addicted to you and it's dangerous That's something we both know
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Jan 14, 2017
Jan 14, 2017 at 6:28 AM UTC
The doll