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Alice Jul 5
On nights like this,
Self sabotage is all I know.

I'll ruin the things I love the most,
Until I have exactly what I deserve:

Jun 25 · 440
Alice Jun 25
I thought it was homesickness
So I came home

And nothing changed.

If home is where the heart is,
I'm sick for you.
Jun 25 · 654
I'm home
Alice Jun 25
In the constant motion of calamity,
you are my tranquility.
My peace, my rest,
my heaven.

In the burning heat of the desert,
you are my oasis.
My lifesource, my rarity,
my hope.

In the unseen darkness of night,
you are my torch.
My guidance, my honesty,
my light.

In the meantime,
you are mine.
I am blessed by you
Alice Aug 2020
Like the seasons
I'll keep changing
But I always come back
To where I began
Is change bad?
Jan 2020 · 280
I mean i think im happy
Alice Jan 2020
"I mean I think I'm happy"

And that's how it began
"Like why shouldn't I be?
Things are fine right now
I have my health, my friends and family.
I work a job and have some plans,
the future isnt hopeless.
Tomorrow still shines bright for me,
this lifes my magnum opus."

Yet in her eyes another tale
was told as clear as day.
No matter her persuasion,
to convince herself another way.

"Times do get dark-" She further added
"But what's life without some pain?
Just a set of tasks with no direction,
no need to complain."

She hid away from feeling,
for to face her own dismay
was to kneel before her sitting God
and shout rather than pray:
"No, I'm really not alright-
And I dont always know why.
But the emptiness sustains
without the confidence to cry.
Was it you who did this?
One day will you stop it?
Or shall I try at a second life
Maybe soon I can commit."

But her God replied in silence,
or maybe in the flowing of the tide.
Perhaps in the movement of the wind,
or the calls of cyanide.

"Yeah I think I'm happy,
The past is in the past.
The present day is fine to me,
Though this will be my last."
I hope this makes sense to other people but it really struck a chord with me when I was writing it. Sometimes it's hard to get a message across like this, but I got something out of it at the very least!
Stay safe, look after yourself and those around you. Find your own definition of peace.
Jan 2020 · 246
Alice Jan 2020
Am I ready yet

Or do I keep waiting?

Tomorrow sounds good.
Tomorrow, the following day will sound good.

Eventually, yesterday would sound better.

All except today.
Does today even exist?
I live in memories or future anxieties.

All I know now is what happened, or what's to come.

There is no presence.
I just want to feel present.
Where did today go?

Oh well, good night again.
Is this even a poem? Living in your head gets exhausting
Dec 2019 · 522
Alice Dec 2019
Learn patience
Like it's your first steps.

Learn to be patient with yourself.
Learn to be patient with others.
Learn to be patient with your environment.

You are

Do so patiently.
Just need to hear this myself really
Alice Dec 2019
I feel nothing.
So I have nothing to write about
Except the fact
That I feel
Give me something to feel
Dec 2019 · 261
Today, tomorrow & forever
Alice Dec 2019
I love u in summer, where days are long and life is bright

I lose u in autumn, where shallow death is a part of nature

I hate u in winter, where the air is sharp and spitting darkness

I miss u in spring, where nature's rebirth kills me every day
I wanna forget you
May 2019 · 513
Good night
Alice May 2019
Good night sun, as soon you will again break through.
Good night stars, you paint our sky a softer hue.
Good night moon, light up the sky I'll sail into.
Good night rain, please wash these gentle lands anew.
Good night sky, although they leave you black and blue.
Good night pain, may the morning cleanse me of you.
Apr 2019 · 348
A message from the stars:
Alice Apr 2019
"In a darkened sky,
We are perspective.

For we line your sky,
As we line your vision.

We are the backdrop of living.
Onlookers of death.
Reminders that no matter how far you travel,
A part of you remains.

And very much alive."
Apr 2019 · 474
Alice Apr 2019
Dark days come along,
When the air blows feathered knives.
They stab the flesh of wanderers,
Who pass through uniform lives.

Walking in calamity, the same route
Each melancholy night.
The cold air dances like feathers
Yet their lives do not take flight.

For on these nefarious nights,
Corruption bleeds down.
Stains the sheets of gloomy virtue,
Gives the night his crown.

The smell of solemn occasion,
The pinch of frozen sky,
The midnight shades of insomnia,
The wind that whispers "Why?"
Alice Aug 2018
Adaptability owes you an apology.

For ensuring you adjust to life's turbulence.

For demanding you greet the bad day with a smile.

For declaring that you Must seek comfort

In your pain.

Who is he,
That made you believe
Your pain was worth less
Than the effort it would take to recover?

Adaptability is your poison;
Reclaim your emotion.
It can be hard to regain the inner strength which feeds the soul. Society can make it very difficult to express the depth of your own sufferings, no matter how small. Truest sincerity comes with knowing who you are, and that includes your own pains. Be true to you.
Jul 2018 · 1.6k
Alice Jul 2018
Loneliness is easy to confuse

Because people think loneliness

Is the product of a lack of company.

When somebody leaves you

You were alone before they left.

Loneliness is a lack of comfort in yourself.

Being yourself
Means being with yourself
And when you're with yourself
How could you ever feel lonely again?
Jul 2018 · 1.9k
Alice Jul 2018
The departure gives meaning to the absence.
Because absence alone means

And holding on to absence
               Putrefies the heart.
Because you are giving pieces of yourself
    To a black hole.

So when they left,
         You were gifted with a decision:

To move to the left, where nothing feels right
Or to dream of the right, where they never left
Jul 2017 · 359
Alice Jul 2017
It's not the moon's influence that dictates the course of the ocean's fleeting tides, but it's persuasion. 

The moon's light shines wholesome promises and tender manipulation onto the water.

What use would words have, with such power in her gentle gaze, her glowing eye?

The tides oblige.

The ocean speaks back in hushed whisper, as it commands the movement she silently requests.

It whispers obedience and fear, knowing one wrong move and she may leave forever. 

The tides will always oblige.

— The End —