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merrideth-zierlein
15/Non-binary
Oh, how beautiful it is That I put my life into your hands. Your fingers wrap around my breath, Creating a beautiful juxtapositional dance. Love and violence, Pleasure and pain. Vulnerability and power, Queer and mundane. Oh, my sweet king, Such an ****** thing.
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Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 10:20 PM UTC
Choke
He makes me feel like one does sitting under the vast sky on a chilly, autumn night, while rocks incarcerate a warm fire. He protects me and surrounds me, ebbing and flowing through my veins like a drug, All the while teaching me the ways of the world. See, a star will fascinate, stimulate, Force you to wonder. Yet he just suggests it, like a breeze, dropping subtle foot prints in soft but not quite muddy grounds. He is the feeling of snow under your boots as you trek through an overexposed wasteland, and the curiosity that is born into your mind as you see trees and general shrubbery peaking through the white blanket. He is beauty and awe, like a motionless lake reflecting the world it lives in, showing the imperfect perfections of such a home. Love, has never stricken me so weak, and flowers have never smelled as sweet, as my honey turns my world into a delightful treat.
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Oct 20, 2018
Oct 20, 2018 at 12:16 AM UTC
Nature can’t come close, babe.
Hello honey, hello darling. Hello future, hello love. Hello to the life I’ve always dreamed of. Hello handsome, hello sweetie. Hello confidence, hello trust. Hello to my one and only We’ll last until all else is dust. It’s incomprehensible, The way I feel, when I think of you. Happiness flutters through my being, Whenever you do the things you do. Hello smile, hello eyes, Hello laughs, hello hugs, Hello to my amazing guardian angel Sent from above. Hello kisses, hello voice, Hello gentle caresses and sweet love. You are my favorite hello, And I wish to never say goodbye, Love.
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Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 11:44 PM UTC
The new promise.
Some are ungrateful for life. Some are unappreciative for love. Some attempt to run from the joys, seeking more. Receiving less.
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Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 11:30 PM UTC
just live
What is a soulmate? A friend of your soul? A sentience to grab some coffee with? It seems everyone has this preconceived notion that a soulmate is the one you must be in love with. I beg to differ. They can be a person you've only ever talked to once. But in that conversation you felt complete. You found and acknowledged pieces of yourself you could only taste. You sort of know this person by just a few exchanges. They are the essence of you. And by getting to know and love someone like this, Maybe you can learn to love yourself.
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Jul 4, 2018
Jul 4, 2018 at 11:22 PM UTC
Two bodies, one soul.
Footsteps follow closely to a steep edge The sound of a shuttering camera echoes Unbeknownst them a fall will pursue Plunging her into an endless abyss She laughs and carelessly trots along her handmade trail Animated eyes flip through scenery The footsteps lead to a ledge over the river She slips. Her body and her heart plummets Desperate arms fling onto a tree, bruising an already bruised wrist. Her heart continues to fall. Once upon a time, she was afraid. Thought that she may never get back up on her own. Yet now, a gentle yet fierce feeling fills her Frees her. She is no longer trapped in the prison of herself Like a phoenix, a once crumbled heart rises from the ashes of a devastating fire, and leaps into the hands of a new keeper.
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Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 6:05 PM UTC
The fall of a lifetime.
A fire, raging inside the weathered skin of the world People begging to come through, Crawling and digging their way to the surface. Pleading for a voice, yet being picked through and left behind, For the next one is allowed to shine. The loveliest concoction of gunpowder and flame, Just below the surface of a temperate land. Perplexing and contradicting tornadoes savage the mind, Leave only emeralds and a shaky smile. However life must push through all the while. She is the most beautiful bomb.' Unpredictible and clever, Though she is haunted by many a thought, She stands tall and fiercely.
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Jun 14, 2018
Jun 14, 2018 at 1:51 AM UTC
The most beautiful bomb.
I wish I were a tree. I wish I could brace the wind and be brave. I wish I could stand tall and sway in the breeze. Unappreciated unless useful. maybe i am a tree I wish I were a Bomb. I wish I could coerce people into submission. I wish I could have a definitive plan. Destructive and chaotic. maybe i am a bomb I wish I were a bird. I wish I could fly above the clouds freely. I wish I could travel about carelessly. Perpetually running and escaping their problems. maybe i am a bird. maybe i am all of these things, but for the reason i do not wish. seasons come and go, and all things too, maybe i should just wait til Spring.
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Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 7:26 PM UTC
maybe.
This cold cold institution is wearing me down. Like rushes of winter water eroding the bank. Green leaves and bright flowers beg to remain, but nature denies. Nature is society. Like a gazelle being hunted by a gazelle, in a dry savanna, unknowing of its imminent death, and then is mauled by the reality and cruelty that is natural order. Torture, it is. For me to wake up at seven in the morning to a ¨safe haven¨ Maybe it is a gate to heaven, because Lord knows im scared of dying there.
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Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 7:25 PM UTC
Untitled
Sometimes I feel like things will never change. but this past year has proven to me that it changes, and quickly. Death, love, birth, new friends, old friends. The smiling faces I see everyday will soon be gone. Stories from people I've never met linger in my head despite being unknown, and the lives of people I know yet will never understand intertwine with mine like a puzzle. Almost two thousand people in a seemingly dilapidated H swarm around each other, never stopping to ask the names of the person next to them. We suffer together, cheer together, worry together, stress together, succeed together, and sometimes, we fail together. Yet we are strangers. The fish in the sea sometimes seem better acquainted than you and me. In two short years, I will leave and never come back. In two short years, my third grade crush will never pop back into my mind. In two short years, all of the admonishments from my Mom will come into actualization as I realize I know nothing about those I've grown up with. In two short years, I will leave the place I hated so much, and I will come to terms with the fact I've only hated it because it cant last forever. Sometimes I feel as if things will never change. But sooner rather than later we will face the biggest change of our lives. So, Goodbye, friends. I'm sorry I never knew you.
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Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 7:23 PM UTC
Time goes on.