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stefania
18/F/the moon finding beauty in pain | / @bbadpoetry on twitter
my lighter ran out of gas so I lit my cigarette on the stove. I was saving this light for you and your pesto pasta, still in its *** it won't get wrapped up with the care with which I wrap my nicotine but it'll be wrapped and waiting for you like I always do till I've no more rizlas or love left to give unreturned and as my *** embers out and I go to light another tick tick tick I know, you're worse for me than this packaged love
0
May 30, 2020
May 30, 2020 at 2:52 AM UTC
chain smoking
it's more than beauty the sun that brings with her, life the coffee is brewed, apples bruised honey or marmalade both heat on the cheek, and through the seasons I lie apiaries and aviaries roses sprout to wilt to pay their duties, she brought me that bouquet, I said i'd put it in a vase while the constellations linger 6am now she will soar again in enormous impossible colours with fleeting secrets, and all the beautiful places I will never see have seen her grace, through air pollution or aurora she's filled with their pain, love curtains have another side the grass is green the sky is blue
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May 30, 2020
May 30, 2020 at 2:49 AM UTC
ode to the sun
I'm an art gallery pristine and empty till a sea of watercolour it's everywhere then nowhere a fresh batch of genuine love unreturned it's innocent till its all-consuming each piece fleeting and plummeting with emotions of Winsor and Newton each a serene numb oblivion to their virtuoso who is digested into 8pt. Times New Roman and printed out this is not beauty this is not romance why can't you see what's right there my depression is becoming who I don't want to be and you don't want to be her either behind my composition I am not composed the palette is always messy and the artist always starving
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Mar 30, 2020
Mar 30, 2020 at 11:38 PM UTC
love letter
if there's a cold part of hell that's where you belong. with the fallen angels, the witches and the meek. you're the reason I believe in ghosts and your contract is lengthy.
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Feb 29, 2020
Feb 29, 2020 at 7:03 PM UTC
6
and I will rise once more with the morning sun my same waxy skin and melodic melancholy the birds they cry and it is beautiful and you spread our pollen and watch that pretty porcelain skin turn to flames, your rose-tinted glasses may hide my hue but I can't stop sneezing
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Feb 29, 2020
Feb 29, 2020 at 7:01 PM UTC
allergic
a song about me but mostly you, it's a shame, I cant share it. for you're not a rose but oleanders, it was always my fault, too late for sorry I'm sorry. you already knew how I feel. him, like the white noise of military submarines at 03:28, the main character is never a villain my little inferno. this one was written for a different life's you and I. not you and me. still, my skull blooms to bouquets. thorned flowers. fed with sugar water and brandy. overgrown my mixtape seeping to my throat, I'll hear when my skins clear and I'm lean.
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Feb 25, 2020
Feb 25, 2020 at 7:02 AM UTC
eugene
friends                                                                           a relationship                                                    timing     its a shame you fell in love and out of it before I could catch up     and now im left mourning what never was     with only my thoughts     a pen     and     citrus
0
Jan 10, 2020
Jan 10, 2020 at 7:57 PM UTC
commitment
im a lousy poet not that im a poet so much i try to convey while i say so little just hoping someone will can really listen
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Jan 10, 2020
Jan 10, 2020 at 7:38 PM UTC
self aware
i want to tattoo daisies and desires on the worn duvet of clouds on a mellow autumn day i might float home with the bees and ladybugs to stay dry and to build art that will never be seen
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Jan 10, 2020
Jan 10, 2020 at 6:54 PM UTC
5
we were friends i loved you that heart of marble your own design the confetti whirling around it you caught me unwittingly the withered jumble i became invisible yet distinct my fibs and bent truths my unfettered fragmented mania we were too alike i reckon that pushing us apart my self sculpted grief no that beyond my control did you ever really want me on your doorstep our your friends were never really fond of me i dont know if i hate you i dont know if i love you i surely need new friends
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Jan 10, 2020
Jan 10, 2020 at 6:51 PM UTC
moonchild