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rooftcps
NYC 16 & trying to pursue a lot of things at once
I had my first dream last night that you weren't in. not even a minor character, your ****** name wasn't even in the credits, let alone plastered across the sky in flashing lights like you want it to be. my first reality that you didn't belong in, and it was the most blissful peace that I can remember since we bathed in pools of cloud. I heard the first song that didn't make me think of you yesterday. the lyrics, for once, were just lyrics, not an embodiment of you and the things you do. guess what? it was coldplay. you always hated coldplay. this morning, I basked in the sun and didn't picture you coated in gold light beside me. I didn't look at the leaves adorning the trees and picture your face laughing beneath it. I didn't trace the plate lines of my palm and imagine the earthquake we used to create when yours collided with mine. I didn't eat new food that I wanted you to try and I didn't want to share the smallest details of my day with you. you may have won this poem, loverboy, but don't be too triumphant. your victory won't last long. it's the era of my new beginnings without you and I'm going to be just fine.
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Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 4:37 PM UTC
the first poem not about you
how do I stop writing about you. when i cast the words and they spell your name every time.
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Aug 9, 2017
Aug 9, 2017 at 3:59 PM UTC
you
lean into this, the hard work the heart work the art work of growing. know that this isn't forever. your body, your home will catch up to the blossoming of your soul. days and months and years will pass. but then, like a child, like a flower in spring, you will bloom, you will rise. here. unrushed. in your time.
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Aug 9, 2017
Aug 9, 2017 at 3:57 PM UTC
in your time.
your fingertips touching my forehead eyes closed but wide open our breaths the same your fingers in my mind dipped into the frequency of my subconscious our hearts mirrors — ephemeral & infinite | human connection
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Aug 5, 2017
Aug 5, 2017 at 10:12 PM UTC
dipped
the early morning silence is good for me i usually miss out on the sunrise, but when i don't, i let myself soak in it my fingers prune under the rays of a sun unreleased this in-between -- the not quite day, but not quite night -- sets my world in motion time stands still and life forms inside my window pane bliss in a 5:30AM lilac sky the early morning silence is good for me
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Jul 8, 2017
Jul 8, 2017 at 10:45 PM UTC
7.8.2017
I don't feel like I owe you anything do you know how freeing that is
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Jul 8, 2017
Jul 8, 2017 at 8:32 PM UTC
open
you are the depth in the backdrop the swirling dust motes in the angled lighting the soft ascent of velvet curtains brushing against a bare stage as well as the lead role — backstage | the whole performance
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Jun 30, 2017
Jun 30, 2017 at 9:15 PM UTC
backstage
why is it that you fall head over heels in love with basic human decency — we've been crushed so long, the absence of weight feels like flight.
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Jun 25, 2017
Jun 25, 2017 at 11:46 PM UTC
lack
the night reinvigorates me evening breath billows past my skirts soft kisses on my ankles pinpoints of indigo-mauve-azure behind whispering leaves glass buttoned sleeves brush (clink) against chain link fences fast light cars — bathe me in headlights | (not spotlights)
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Jun 24, 2017
Jun 24, 2017 at 4:19 PM UTC
night