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mercedes-3
17/F
Dilute me; add a hint of bitterness, a bit of preservatives, a splash of artificial flavor. Only then might I be enough, comprehensible, consumable, for you to devour whole.
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Jan 18
Jan 18, 2026 at 11:42 PM UTC
Make Me Easier To Love
When I first saw you I thought you would be a stoner. Trapped in a loop controlled by **** Your clothes smelling like burnt leaves and you have ashes under your fingernails. Your shirts are always ripped and tattered your pants baggy, somewhat unwashed. With small tattoos on your thighs. A piercing on your nose. A slit on your eyebrow. A scar on your cheek. Leaving to hide from the world. Acting like you are disengaged from us. Maybe you see what I can’t. It all seems irrelevant though, when you smell good and don’t smoke. You really don’t. You just seem like the type to do so.
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Jan 18
Jan 18, 2026 at 11:38 PM UTC
Stoner?
I wish I could touch you, only softly. I wish I couldn’t hurt you. I wish I wasn’t human so I could always make you happy. But I know I will never be a god. You were the one who saw me that day. No one knew who I was, all they saw was a dumb girl. You are my day one, first choice, number one pick. I wish I could always make you happy, because maybe it was you who saved my life. Or maybe that’s just what I say to justify your pain. My pain of loneliness is pretty bad, you are always the first one, so why can’t you be this time? That night when you were taken by the devil, as you say, was bad. But I know that I want to love you hard. If you look side by side, it looks the same as she did. And maybe it is. I’ve grown, but certainly not enough. Maybe it’s the hormones, or the way my damaged mind works. But if I could, I would take away the knots in my stomach and the shock waves in my spine. I wish I could be normal again, like I never was. I wish I couldn’t be this close to hurting you. I wish I could just make me stop.
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Jan 18
Jan 18, 2026 at 11:34 PM UTC
Distress of love like situations
Your love was not true. Only a lie, given on a beautiful plate of roses, but I ripped them all and shattered the plate and killed love. I lied about it. But you lied first. Our love was built on friendship too deep. It was beautiful, and so was the love I felt. So I was deceived By something inside me screaming and yearning to jump free. Free of pain and darkness. But that only was the cause of your suffering. Was what you told me real? Where the tellings you said of love a reality, Or were they just something to say in the emptiness that we were so afraid of. Were you afraid of me? Scared of the death I told. Scared of the loneliness and darkness my heart spoke of? I never meant for this to be the way of ending. You told me we would talk, as friends, as best friends. But I was lied to. A lie as beautiful as roses, on a golden, carved plate. But you cut the roses in half. And threw away the plate and forgot. I kept the pieces. I watched you cry.
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Jun 17, 2025
Jun 17, 2025 at 11:01 AM UTC
simultaneously we were in pain
Saying goodbye To someone you love Is like reading the final page Of an amazing book. As the last chapter ends You begin to notice Just how beautiful And perfect The plot always was.   You appreciate the joy And even the pain As you read and thumb Through every page. Finally understanding The moral of the story, You realize you've reached The end of this journey. Although the last sentence   Is the most difficult to read Another great book awaits Once you turn the final page. Eventually you may stumble Upon yet another great find. Or maybe you'll return To the book you left behind. You may just discover Once all is said and done That this particular book   Was your favorite story All along.
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Jun 3, 2025
Jun 3, 2025 at 11:20 PM UTC
My Favorite Story
you stole my light when i told you to stop and you ignored my red light and kept going like my body was undiscovered land and you were a colonizer. perhaps my asking you to stop turned you on made you hungry. you looked at me with your hungry eyes like i was fresh meat for you to take and have for yourself ignoring my stop signs cries screams because i am nothing more than an object to you made for your manipulation and pleasures.
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Jun 3, 2025
Jun 3, 2025 at 11:16 PM UTC
"no."
These halls seem somewhat hollow A certain sense of sorrow Now graces ancient stone. Replacing familiar faces With defaced family paintings And cold ancestral bones. Thrones thrown upon a pyre. Fate becomes the folly Tomorrow the unknown, The brows of time are furrowed Past spent, lost, or borrowed Flowers forever bloom alone. Rats, the last lords of ruin Rule cruel shadows from the walls. Twilight sighs at daylight's rise All seems dark till darkness falls.
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Jun 3, 2025
Jun 3, 2025 at 11:00 PM UTC
Rats in Ruin
I grab an old Ramones t-shirt I look for a pair of jeans to match. looking down to search through the pile of clothes on my floor. My eye catches the corner of a card she made for me. A beautiful drawing of a flower. Hearts and a small paragraph explaining her love. The love that went cold and unresponsive. Sometimes I still miss the girl who broke my heart and shattered it over and over. I see the pants and set them on the shirt. I will wear this outfit tomorrow
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Jun 3, 2025
Jun 3, 2025 at 10:56 PM UTC
Shattered
You once told me I always looked uptight. We sat together under the tree yet I felt it would be alright. I felt uneasy when it was said, but brushing it off was fine. Somehow I still felt we were dead and my heart wanted to whine. And cry with sorrow. For I will no longer see you tomorrow, Because as I said, Our love was dead.
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Jun 3, 2025
Jun 3, 2025 at 9:03 PM UTC
Dead love