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mizznallely
Dominican Living in constant mayhem and change. Been writing only two years. socially awkward, everytimeI feel unconfortable around people I just grab my notebook and start writing. Here are the results of this plus a really tortured mind. Another thing, I can't rhyme anything, you will rarely see any rymes in my poetry. / / "writing soothes and frees the soul"
Beneath every grass meadow, sun dropped slowly as night. littlest, bitterly hacked, rises. begging and glittering, it wanted to drink each cloud as I emptied any fearing between two psicodelic forests and left this sailor dance under high stars. Watashi no nagai natsu. (my longest summer.)
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Feb 15, 2011
Feb 15, 2011 at 1:49 PM UTC
Watashi no nagai natsu. (my longest summer.)
it remains still while everything fades and changes it stays the same waiting for me everlasting summer a place where our thoughts aren't repressed by those who feed us that place your roof stays in my heart, till I comeback
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Feb 15, 2011
Feb 15, 2011 at 1:45 PM UTC
Roof
The way the word came out: softly, rightly; Came thru my ears, got stuck in my brain, and choked my throat. Breath, cant catch, breath. Is cliché the fact that it is beautiful, but truth cannot be denied, not even when repetitive and known. Life goes on, while I remain still, paralized, appreciating, a bittersweet moment more sweet than bitter. Her voice collapsed in the room, not as softly and warm as the other ones, but mysterious and hypnotizing as no other voice ever was.
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Feb 15, 2011
Feb 15, 2011 at 1:45 PM UTC
Herr Lehrer
It just takes me an obsession to make art to make something beautiful I just have to bleed my heart To decently frame the beauty that inspires this I just have to break my soul If this is the price I have to pay for this I think it is an incredible deed I accept with joy the only thing that destroys my self I give away my sanity just for the joy that writing this gives to my already broken soul to my bleeding heart and to my obsessed mind
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Feb 6, 2011
Feb 6, 2011 at 4:28 PM UTC
Bleeding Soul
there's nothing to write about and nothing to talk about i'm blank in the bitterest desesperation of knowing that i have to do something and i can't finish it my chest is going to explode of all the weight that i have in my back everything is over me and nothing is normal again and even when i know that everything is going to be fine in a blink i don't have any hope that that's gonna happen
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Jan 23, 2011
Jan 23, 2011 at 5:55 PM UTC
my lame unfinished homework
I just wanna talk until the world dissapear until the air gets thin until the figures and shapes that form men and women head off to another dimension until the stars flee off to another galaxy until the states split into islands until the words dissolve by using them so much and by a kiss until gravity pull us together and not our desires until we both know is time to stop talking just talk and talk and talk and talk I lost the feeling of only talking without any attachments of opening my soul without saying something embarrasing without being weak I just wanna talk until my eyes close peacefully by fatigue and by the struggle over the years, while you hold my hand. keeping you close forever, with your warmness and peace of mind even when I know you're crumbling inside a helpless selfishness
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Jan 22, 2011
Jan 22, 2011 at 4:14 PM UTC
helpless selfishness
I have in my chest the sorrow of your existence. You sow tears of despair in my face. You are perfect, too much. I’m nothing, nothing much. You are an angel that fell of the sky. You are a white demon that came out of the hell to torture me. You are killing me with your perfection, with your existence. I’m nobody in your side. I’m too discordant. My despair is running down, bringing the opportunity to something worst to come. I’m afraid, too much. You are destroying me, too fast. I’m a human slough collapsing in misery spirals.
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Jan 22, 2011
Jan 22, 2011 at 4:12 PM UTC
despair
they're falling leaving the space for the time behind. but they're still green, they dont want to live, they didn't lived to see the end. premature death full of uncertainty. at long as they last falling i'm fine, I just want to see their path gently rub the wind and cut the air. leaving no space for my breath. fleeting beauty moving in spirals . I loose myself , in a jungle of orange. there trying to reassemble my olds sunsets, those that I used to worship, helping me to remember while they die. for a moment I stare at they and bow while i gather myself together and walk away.
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Jan 22, 2011
Jan 22, 2011 at 4:06 PM UTC
premature autumn
can you be more perfect than now? i don't think so when everybody look perfect with clothes on you don't. what the hell you have, that you have me on your feet? i don't think that even you can answer that question. so, to soothe my doubt and to calm my curiosity you decide to put your clothes off, and i decide to contemplate you in silence
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Jan 22, 2011
Jan 22, 2011 at 4:03 PM UTC
clothes off