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morgan-barclay
morgan-barclay
And so the duckling turned into the swan not entirely sure the road she was on every compliment a poisonous snake sinking it's sickly smile into every Beat beat break of her heart every smile's a spark a flame that can't be ignited her mind it can't be untied it just goes to show you the lengths they will go to to feel like they belong this is no dream this is no song but doesn't it seem like that's the road she's on she'll break like a toothpick unable to cool it tells herself just to move it unable to believe the lies she's been told how can this be real we're all just growing old
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Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 5:54 PM UTC
#5
Feathers like hair make me stare for far too long until I remember you're not there I'll steal the clouds and you'll steal the sky if that means your thoughts will not hide smile away the longest days keep me dreaming of what you'll become death is far away if in a poet's mind you stay if fear is a choice I choose you so smile smile away
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Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 5:38 PM UTC
Smile Away
Why- I’ve been thinking a lot lately a surprising notion for someone as vapid as I am, I know but the sentiment still remains thought- it has been happening and I’ve come to the grand conclusion I make a horrible poet no teenage angst, no head over heel love a surprising lack of passion for a girl my age sixteen is supposed to be my prime emotional state so why do I feel so empty Imagine your excitement- Easter Morning- 2006 basket brimming with gelatinous ooze and future cavities when you see it there cradled in between the silky green plastic strings Mega Jumbo Chocolate Easter Bunny your little heart beats faster, faster, faster until you take a bite and dread is the only thing that takes place of that once so familiar savory sweetness hollow- the bunny is hollow It’s nothing more than a disappointment really to look up at the stars and just see stars to smell the crisp turning of autumn in the air to watch the inch worm dance despite the distance to wonder upon the cute boy across the room and feel nothing Maybe I’m thinking too much Maybe I’m just repressing that deep down hatred of myself that society seems so keen on me having Maybe I don’t want to be a poet Maybe I want to be a poem Yes, I want to be a poem dripping in catharsis melting to the very point of emotional vulnerability tearing away the mask you hide behind yes, I want to be that metaphorical nonsense you call art I want to be the words you bravely hide behind to tell your story like no other medium can I want to feel the daggers in my sides and I want to fly to the moon I want to be emotion I want to be real I want to be a poem but that’s just a little too nonsensical, isn’t it? dream big, stay small, hope’s how you grow them all but hope isn’t happiness, is it? hope isn’t real, is it? hope is a vapid emotion perfect for a girl like me
0
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 5:30 PM UTC
Hope
Why- I’ve been thinking a lot lately a surprising notion for someone as vapid as I am, I know but the sentiment still remains thought- it has been happening and I’ve come to the grand conclusion I make a horrible poet no teenage angst, no head over heel love a surprising lack of passion for a girl my age sixteen is supposed to be my prime emotional state so why do I feel so empty Imagine your excitement- Easter Morning- 2006 basket brimming with gelatinous ooze and future cavities when you see it there cradled in between the silky green plastic strings Mega Jumbo Chocolate Easter Bunny your little heart beats faster, faster, faster until you take a bite and dread is the only thing that takes place of that once so familiar savory sweetness hollow- the bunny is hollow It’s nothing more than a disappointment really to look up at the stars and just see stars to smell the crisp turning of autumn in the air to watch the inch worm dance despite the distance to wonder upon the cute boy across the room and feel nothing Maybe I’m thinking too much Maybe I’m just repressing that deep down hatred of myself that society seems so keen on me having Maybe I don’t want to be a poet Maybe I want to be a poem Yes, I want to be a poem dripping in catharsis melting to the very point of emotional vulnerability tearing away the mask you hide behind yes, I want to be that metaphorical nonsense you call art I want to be the words you bravely hide behind to tell your story like no other medium can I want to feel the daggers in my sides and I want to fly to the moon I want to be emotion I want to be real I want to be a poem but that’s just a little too nonsensical, isn’t it? dream big, stay small, hope’s how you grow them all but hope isn’t happiness, is it? hope isn’t real, is it? hope is a vapid emotion perfect for a girl like me
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49
I can remember seeing your face that very first day as my heart began to race the red showed on my face I suddenly felt so out of place No, out of space gone I saw you and nothing existed the world around me faded and left me feeling jaded tainted vulnerable You took my words away as you came up to say "Hello" I wanted to tell you how you made me feel like nothing was real I wanted you to unravel the map that is my heart so I could pinpoint the place you had already taken I wanted to tell you how you made me feel so alone so shaken How you took my world and crumpled it in your hands as if I had no plans and I hate you I hate how you made me feel so small so powerless faceless at the mercy of your wish How you made me feel like nothing but someone on the perpetual waiting list for love and I hate how you took my everything away and replaced it with your laugh your chin the back of your neck the curl in your hair the face you make engulfed in a new book and the curl you get in your lip when you eat something horrible and that thing you do when something makes you uncomfortable and the way you can make a cloudy day seem like it was made for people like me and people like you you filled me with your thoughts your smells your life the intoxicating light of your soul and I hate you I hate your smile your laugh the twitch in your lip and the curl in your hair because you took my everything away and replaced it with something better as if my everything wasn’t good enough already You made me hate myself because myself wasn’t with you You took my words away and I hate that I love you I hate that I love your laugh your smile the curl in your hair and the dimple on your cheek I hate how I love your voice your mind and the body it’s contained in how I love your confined sense of inflated eloquence when you talk about something you hate and your clamorous sense of bumbling un-eloquence when you talk about something you love even more I love how you make feel weak in the knees with every breeze that brings you closer to me with ease As if you were a disease I couldn’t get rid of And didn’t want to get rid of because I love you and I hate you because as long as I can remember that very first day you will always have my words you will never know how you make me feel so alone and so alive you will never how you make me feel so vulnerable as I heard the beat of my breath as if it were a poem kept in perfect time you will never know how much I crave to love you to be your friend because that was the end that first day I saw you you took my words away and there they will stay until I can forget the way you made me feel that very first day
0
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 5:20 PM UTC
First Day
I can remember seeing your face that very first day as my heart began to race the red showed on my face I suddenly felt so out of place No, out of space gone I saw you and nothing existed the world around me faded and left me feeling jaded tainted vulnerable You took my words away as you came up to say "Hello" I wanted to tell you how you made me feel like nothing was real I wanted you to unravel the map that is my heart so I could pinpoint the place you had already taken I wanted to tell you how you made me feel so alone so shaken How you took my world and crumpled it in your hands as if I had no plans and I hate you I hate how you made me feel so small so powerless faceless at the mercy of your wish How you made me feel like nothing but someone on the perpetual waiting list for love and I hate how you took my everything away and replaced it with your laugh your chin the back of your neck the curl in your hair the face you make engulfed in a new book and the curl you get in your lip when you eat something horrible and that thing you do when something makes you uncomfortable and the way you can make a cloudy day seem like it was made for people like me and people like you you filled me with your thoughts your smells your life the intoxicating light of your soul and I hate you I hate your smile your laugh the twitch in your lip and the curl in your hair because you took my everything away and replaced it with something better as if my everything wasn’t good enough already You made me hate myself because myself wasn’t with you You took my words away and I hate that I love you I hate that I love your laugh your smile the curl in your hair and the dimple on your cheek I hate how I love your voice your mind and the body it’s contained in how I love your confined sense of inflated eloquence when you talk about something you hate and your clamorous sense of bumbling un-eloquence when you talk about something you love even more I love how you make feel weak in the knees with every breeze that brings you closer to me with ease As if you were a disease I couldn’t get rid of And didn’t want to get rid of because I love you and I hate you because as long as I can remember that very first day you will always have my words you will never know how you make me feel so alone and so alive you will never how you make me feel so vulnerable as I heard the beat of my breath as if it were a poem kept in perfect time you will never know how much I crave to love you to be your friend because that was the end that first day I saw you you took my words away and there they will stay until I can forget the way you made me feel that very first day
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