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mercedes-3
17/F
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
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