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ruksana-saryak
And there's this girl Bringing flowers, cards, delicacies Which I only ever dreamt from a guy She brings them to me Makes me wonder about my priorities Have I got them right Or is it just another play of god Receiving from the unexpected Being loved at the lowest moments Such a risky play, lord! I don't have enough to give her i know Not enough love, nor enough respect As she deserves them in infinite amount Makes me wonder Whether I'm deserving even in the first place Being such a flawed human Anger issues, mood swings round the clock Yet she's there with open arms My confidante We must have been sisters in some other life We might have shared the same clothes, books, food Living under the same roof With the same parents Playing together Singing, dancing, braiding each other's hair Bringing roses on our special days Cheering us up at our lowest Cooking each other our favourite food Knitting together, listening to the same stories from our grandma She has become someone in my life I did not expect to be But made my life a whole lot better than it used to be - a_drunken_soul
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Feb 7, 2025
Feb 7, 2025 at 12:30 PM UTC
Her
The heat around, lullabies the jubilant, Sings the nocturnal to sleep. Vapourizes the sweat of mine into you, yours into me. Sweet was the taste that reminds me of your skin, Sour was your core; You clothed so spicy, But bitter were your lips, As you whispered you glimpsed Hope. Would Hope bring forth this heat, Suffocating, sweaty, Devoid of air any- yet addicts, depresses. Is it Despair then? The tumbling motion, Ever retrogressive, Past crumbling skyscrapers into atoms, To a colloid of Anti-Brightness. Is Despair not cold? A chilling, shaking hand- Skin withered, cut, wounded, ****** Gangrene, pus, hair-draped; Which claws up the ******* to the throat, Feels the very pipe of wind, presses; Pressure, pain, excruciating- As chokes the distressed damsel while drinking the poison. Well, supposedly, the heat might be the rage, Which vaporized all, And that left behind might be the despair, cold, As I glimpse Death. -Ruksana Saryak
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May 11, 2020
May 11, 2020 at 3:15 PM UTC
HOPE that kills