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oakten
oakten
24/Agender/American Hi, I'm Oakley and I'm terrible at poetry.
You've left a stain on my life that I am not entirely motivated to wash out.
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Sep 7, 2021
Sep 7, 2021 at 8:04 PM UTC
Stained
She was beautiful, The calm she wore like a swath, Wrapped around everyone she met. Her smile was charming, The comfort and care always Expressed through her eyes, Working it's way into every soul she crossed. Her heart was kind, Longing and craving to see Happiness exude from all she’d meet. Her mind was a storm; She gave all she had to everyone Just to see their happiness grow. Even if it meant hers was lost.
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Nov 22, 2018
Nov 22, 2018 at 8:35 PM UTC
For Others
09/03/2014 Who would have ever thought that I’d still be standing. My knees constantly buckling, my fingers always trembling. My voice cracks and my eyes fall, my broken feet still planted up right. My heart in shambles from cuts and abuse. My head doesn’t think quite like it used to. My throat is raw and burning, it screams but no sounds come out. Like a lighthouse with the bulb burned out, A bird with broken wings, A tree that has its rings stripped and taken until it’s nothing but a twig. 11/16/2017 Who would have ever thought that I’d still be standing. My panic still washes over me, the quivers never quite left. My tears still gather and my eyes burn, my feet are sore but stable. My heart is pasted back together with love and care. My head doesn’t think quite like it used to. My throat is swollen and shaking, it laughs and it keeps laughing. Like a ship out at sea rocking, A bird chirping in the morn, A tree whose buds are slowly growing and healing from a storm.
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Nov 18, 2017
Nov 18, 2017 at 12:09 AM UTC
Progression
Anxiety I run, and run, and run, and it chases, chases, chases. It haunts the crevices of my mind, laughing, mocking, pushing me closer, to an undefined edge. As I think I am getting better, as hope caresses me into a broken lucidity, it knocks on my door. Pounding against the hard cracking ossein, pounding, pounding. All around me my walls shatter, and it’s echoing voice, protrudes my hollow skull. It taunts my frail spirit, It takes a hammer to my confidence, It tears my existence to shreds. I hide in my room. It is safe there. Hiding. Hiding. No pain can reach me, If it cannot see me. Its voice is a calming melody That masks the true terror it really is. “It’s okay to hide. You’ll be safe here. “Don’t be scared.” When all I am Is scared. Scared. Scared. Scared of people, what they’ll say, what they’ll think. Scared of how I will embarrass myself this time. Its hand grasps me by the throat and shakes me numb. “Do not go. Do not go. “They will mock you, “They will judge you, “Don’t go, Don’t go.” I run, and run, and run, and it chases, chases, chases. I want away. I want away. This fear it gives me. This fear is throws on me. I do not need. It racks my mind endlessly, whispering lies into my ears. I try, and try, and try, to get away, and it laughs, laughs, laughs.
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Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 11:53 AM UTC
Anxiety
"Have you ever been in love?" She asked. "Yes, madly, passionately, and terribly," I replied.
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Apr 21, 2013
Apr 21, 2013 at 8:10 PM UTC
Have you ever been in love?
Valentines Day, go away. Come again some other day, When I'm okay, And I'm just fine, And when I have someone, To call just mine.
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Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 6:07 PM UTC
Valentines Day, Go Away.
I'm in love with a girl, And so help me god, When I hear her say, She doesn't feel the same.
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Feb 10, 2013
Feb 10, 2013 at 7:38 PM UTC
Help
Do you love me, or don't you? Make up your mind. Do you want to be with me, or don't you? Make up your mind. My heart is ripping at the seams. Do you see that? Your beautiful nightmare is invading my dreams. And the only thing that fills the night air are my screams. Terror after terror, Fright after fright, My bad dreams all seem to be part of a scheme, to rip me apart seam by seam.
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Feb 1, 2013
Feb 1, 2013 at 8:07 PM UTC
Nightmare
Eight hours of mindless torture on a little three hours of sleep. I feel suffocated and alone, in a sea full of children. My body wrenches, I’ve puked and shaken, but that doesn’t matter to the authorities. It’s about grades and status. It’s all about status. Mother demands me to be "popular." Grandmother regards me to be, at the absolute finest, The best in front of others. "Friends" insult pictures. What I want doesn't matter; My "status" must be as tall as a tower. It’s all about status in a world full of lies. So what if I sit here and shake, all that matters is that I don’t fail; it doesn’t matter if I die.
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Feb 1, 2013
Feb 1, 2013 at 3:47 PM UTC
Status