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pretend-poetry
I´ve never been so sure in my life. / / Pretend be poetry everyday is who i am.
I could have done more. If I had started 5 years ago I would have the resources that I lack now. I didn't know this was going to happen. It is likely to happen again. - V.
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Mar 5, 2021
Mar 5, 2021 at 10:17 PM UTC
2020
This cycle is addictive. I stopped in my teens and everything that happens seems to be related to what I was struggling with at the time. It has been years since I left but I use the pleasures to mask the feeling of failure. I use it, I feel good, the feeling is back. I feel deluded, desperate to write my story again. -A.
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Mar 5, 2021
Mar 5, 2021 at 10:07 PM UTC
Drafts
It is frustrated to be incapable of finding the words that fit it. My intimate reflections in a paper had never been written. My inhuman part could show my empty face. All I care about it may become a scandal. So I rarely exposed myself writing atop that. - A.
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Jun 1, 2019
Jun 1, 2019 at 9:07 PM UTC
They weren ́t able to hear me.
Echoes in head: the successful thing you have to be. While you sleep,they don´t stop. You wake up and want back sleep. Is tiring carry this way. Did you see the time passing by? The end has been things that never started during this time. - V.
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May 25, 2019
May 25, 2019 at 10:12 PM UTC
The End
Time has not given me a truce. I wonder when was the last time I said pretty things? All these awful things destroy me to the bottom. I has been droping tears on the floor waiting that I feel all again. I see your photos on parties with all your friends. They used to be mine too. I check my phone and nothing new but I look one more time. I´m useless,no one is there. I´m alone. It's so obvious how much I need attention. I´ll fit this. I´m dancing and laughing, I dance very badly, I have wear my best dress, A red lipstick in my lips And I spent hours looking at myself in front of the mirror. This my time. Just me. Talking about myself. Writing about it. I´m pride talking I´m pretty . No one can drag me down today. - V.
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May 25, 2019
May 25, 2019 at 9:38 PM UTC
Pretty Time
I used to be complete I had poetry crave in my soul. I was writing words and I feeling heard I was a shout,a voice. I had a philosophy to explain my own existence Even though sometimes I was confused if it was just a literary delirium. I´ve been thinking too much I set my heart on the intense love But i have not been fight back against the violence. So i feel empty While I hope I go back to poetry, trying to find my way back home. -A.
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May 20, 2019
May 20, 2019 at 8:45 PM UTC
Dear Past
I get confusion. I used to think the end has to perfect, So i really have work out during life, Everything has to be explained, to others in future Understand exactly was in my mind unlike that life is too ephemeral My efforts insist on being deep and I´m fight with my mind. i just want let it go everything without the answers but I´m paralyzed. my heartbeat is in my throat. It´s all about my incompetence. I have all the tools and I lost time questioning myself who am i ? do i deserve my existence ? - A.
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Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 3:52 PM UTC
Existence
I wish my universe was big enough to all people understand what is in my mind But my space in small Just I fit in. Some travelers have already passed here, long ago, I still keep cleaning up the mess. - V.
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Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 8:39 PM UTC
Universe
For a while I was silenced by me for all but I'm back To write about. Shameless. -V.
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Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 8:38 PM UTC
Impetuosity
I had catch myself thinking of you, a different version of you. This is not bad. Authenticity is your flag, and this attracts me in a way I can´t imagine in my dreams. So you forced me to feel the reality and I feel. I feel all the colors of the colorful raindrops Because we dance in the rain without caring how dark we are. - A.
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Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 8:09 PM UTC
All the Colors of a Black Sky