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sabinarr
sabinarr
My skin cracks when you touch it, and I can not stop crying because you think that I am beautiful, and I hate you for that.
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Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 3:40 PM UTC
Untitled II
The way you used to say my name Sang to me louder than any church choir Ever has before. And don’t you remember that time I sang to you? You danced with me on your bed, And accidentally put your t.v. right through the wall. I will probably never know How to love anyone as much as I loved you right then.
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Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 3:56 AM UTC
Untitled
Don’t you know, That I am the dirt Underneath your fingernails? And don’t you know How vile that feels?
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Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 3:23 AM UTC
kiss me anyways
The summer I was seventeen I kissed a boy, And together we made A perfect tangle of youth and vulnerability. I went back to our river After he had left for the west coast. The tides ran lower. Sometimes I think of you And you still make me feel like *** and sunshine, Frank Sinatra and street light kisses.
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Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 6:34 PM UTC
Untitled
I sat and watched a bug crawl across your skin From your leg to your hand to your wrist, to the scars up your arm. Scars I’ve never noticed, Scars that look familiar, Scars that amount to more than mine. And I looked to see that My skin appeared to be held together by spiderwebs. I felt ugly. I felt human. And then the sun shone brighter and I was a million little stained glass pieces. A million little stained glass pieces held together by spiderwebs. I folded into myself and tried to listen to the choir sing But they were too far away. I was alone. I knew you were too. Alone with the sunshine. Alone in our stained glass. I just sat there in the grass, folding and unfolding. Letting the sun shine into me. To be under our skin and To see the way all our little fragments shone. I wonder how we would look turned inside out.
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Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 6:04 PM UTC
Spiderwebs
i spent too many ripe summer evenings chain smoking on my rooftop all alone, thinking of just you and how you hate my cigarettes
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Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 1:35 AM UTC
why am i still writing about you
I remember back when I promised myself I would never kiss anyone who I did not think the world of.
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Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 9:58 PM UTC
Untitled
Red lipped and soft spoken, the world is kind to girls like me. But we are dark eyed and dark minded and our quiet mouths are burning.
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Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 11:30 PM UTC
I think that I was made out of smoke.
I hide beneath the ocean's waves; cursed to always be the tide, never to be the moon.
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Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 10:52 AM UTC
Cycles
I read something somewhere once and it went something like this: “Love is the opposite of power. That’s why it makes us so uncomfortable.” Well, I’m not much good at love But I’m good at surrendering And lucky for me, Most people can’t tell the difference.
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Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 8:39 PM UTC
White Flag