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nonextraordinary-ordinary
nonextraordinary-ordinary
19/Non-binary Another speck of dust, on a whirlwind ride through space. / Careening wildly closer to a black hole.
Wrapped in pretty glitters and gold I placed it in his hands It was an effortless gift I smiled and stood back to admire love bloom from the inviting fire Of red hot desire which burned off his eyes. He handed me one as well extravagantly decorated much more than my own. Such thought! Surely it must be as great as he says! Wrapped in such lovely word decorated paper. I looked up to see him smiling back. "Do you like it?" he asks. My answer is automatic. Anything that comes from such grand gestures surely must be just as pleasantly pleasing. Excited and enthralled I ripped it open only for my hands to stall. Empty. A gift was expected, was it not? I looked up to see him smiling down. his gift opened before him. I stare in horror "How naïve." He states. "You should have known, Men like me don't do gifting. Rather we enjoy destroying what we're given and revel in your disappointment." Why had I been the only one Who's gift was not empty, full of lies and deceit. I should've know that fire is contagious It cannot be contained and you can't stop it from burning. I could only watch as he lit my gift on fire. Burning my trust to ashes, and laughing at my broken sobs. Now when I stay out of gifting. Too afraid of another gift turned to ashes, and empty wrappings with pretty words in gold.
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Nov 18, 2021
Nov 18, 2021 at 7:08 PM UTC
Gifting Trust
I stare into my reflection, peering into the soul of which only can be seen In blue mirrors and media screens. The empty personality stares, looking back at me. A created caricature, Blankly examining its unaltered true form. The glass, A line between worlds where truth is filtered and blurred. Altered. Bearing no semblance, No longer me. That creature that sits Behind it on the other side, a guise that I cannot recognize. It is I Who created this character for all else to examine. To lock away Unmasked, misshapen Scrutinized pieces of myself. The person in the mirror, they know nothing of how to live, Sitting unknowing of the world. A stranger to grievances and struggle, friend to glass and screens. I've created a character for all to view. But when I go to admire, I no longer see myself. Blank eyes stare back, My reflection stares at me.
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Mar 8, 2021
Mar 8, 2021 at 11:58 PM UTC
Soul Peering
She told me I was perfect. I fell instantaneously. So tell me why did I hesitate, every time she told me she loved me.
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Feb 3, 2021
Feb 3, 2021 at 11:34 PM UTC
A note from a lover
I shall not bend I shall not fold I mustn't give under the gaze of their watch. For in my eyes this is weak. however. It is okay if I fall and crack, It is okay if I break and snap. Yet these orbed windows of my soul, I mustn't let flood. I may shake and tremble, in anguish, in frustration, but this dam of my lids shall not break.
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Feb 3, 2021
Feb 3, 2021 at 11:23 PM UTC
Does Crying Make Me Weak?
She is a puppet. She was her own puppeteer. But her strings, harshly wrestled from her, until she is wholly compliant. Society laughs, as she dances their string pulling dance. Her movement not her own, a dance against her own accord.
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Feb 3, 2021
Feb 3, 2021 at 11:11 PM UTC
The Puppet
They fed their mind with black and white, Monotone and the same. Forbidding gay reds and blues, greens and yellows, and all the bountiful colors. To them, Love is simple. As predictable as day and night. To them, Love is complex. As divided as the colors on a prism.
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Feb 3, 2021
Feb 3, 2021 at 10:54 PM UTC
Society's Obsession with B&W