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Cambrie Nov 2018
Your sweet, gentle, kind gaze,
Has now turned to a murderous glare.

Your once so loving hands,
Have become my enemy.

Where did I go wrong?
What makes you think you can treat me like the dirt on your shoe?

Your soft, sweet voice,
Now feels like shards of glass hitting my body with no end.

Now that you have had your fun,
Am I still supposed to call you baby?

Fine.

Hey baby, Did you hurt anyone else today?
Did your fangirls bend to your every wish and command?

Sorry I don’t treat you like all of your royal subjects do.
Sorry if this harsh reality is damaging your ego.

You know what baby?
You should bow down to me.

I am the king here.
Bow down and beg for forgiveness.

I might accept it,
But I probably won’t.

You are a sick excuse of a human being,
I would call you an alien if it wasn’t such a compliment.

Baby, you should see me in a crown,
You would remble and cower at the sight.

So bow down to me,
Because I have the power.
Cambrie Nov 2018
I loved you
I loved you so much it hurt
Your words had such an impact you made me believe I was perfect.

Your soft touch
The way your hand engulfed mine
The way your hugs made me feel like I was floating.

The problem was your anger
Your short temper
Lack of patience.

The way you would grab my wrists
The glare from your piercing eyes
The words that left bruises on my heart.

I am conflicted
I want to hold you
I want to be by your side.

Even after the way you treated me
I know I’m wrong to feel this way
I know I shouldn’t feel like this.

The thought of you brings me anxiety
Yet seeing you in the hall brings me ease,
Until I remember those broken eyes of yours are my fault.

I can’t feel like this anymore
I’m sure you don’t feel remorse
Why should I feel like this when you are perfectly fine.

I shouldn’t have let you in
I should have kept my walls up
I should have been more protective of my oh so fragile heart.

I suppose the only thing left for me to say
Is how I hope you don’t treat anyone else this way
They might not be as passive.
Cambrie Nov 2018
Battle Scars
Everyone has them
Some people hide them,
Hide behind them,
Or show them to the world.
Some are visible.
Others are not.
They can be on
Wrists
Minds
Hearts
And
Skin.
Some are:
Black, purple, red, green, blue, pink.
Any color of the rainbow.
Some scars are DEEP,
Others shallow.
Sometimes
Your
Scars
Are
Other
People.
You must fight.
Show the world that your scars aren’t scary, ugly or worthless.
Show them that you have earned your
Tiger Stripes.
It doesn’t matter what the
WORLD
Thinks of you.
As long as you love yourself,
Then nothing,
And no one else
Matters.
Free yourself of these chains before it’s too late,
Because one day,
These scars could get to you.
Your thoughts could become overbearing.
You might feel like giving up.
Don’t.
Always Keep Fighting.
And
Always.
Always.
Show your Tiger Stripes.
Cambrie Nov 2018
This is about a beanie that is not a beanie
It’s about a blue and black beanie that is not blue and black
This beanie belongs to a handsome Prince
The Prince of beanies  if you will

This particular Prince is perfect yet not perfect at all
He is tall but not as tall as the rest of them
Even though he is not as tall
He is even more handsome
And kind
And gentle

This Prince doesn’t have a name
In fact his name is Prince of Beanies
He would also be known as the Queen’s mistress
I know none of this makes sense
I suppose it’s not supposed to

You are a stranger
You do not understand my heart
You won’t
I don’t
I don’t understand how my heart only beats for him
I don’t quite understand why his hugs feel like a vacation
Like my salvation

Thank you for taking your time to read this
It’s a bunch of nonsense that I don’t understand
You are very kind to care
I thank you and bid you a goodnight
my sweet fellow
writer
Sorry if this isn't amazing. I just got back into poetry and couldn't believe I missed it so much. I hope you like it <3
Cambrie Oct 2018
Class ends soon.
I’ll see your face.
You’ll talk to me.
I’ll smile and hide how I feel.

You think we are okay.
You think I am okay.
You don’t know.
You don’t know the truth.

You don’t know how broke I feel right now.
You don’t know how I want to be alone all of the time.
You don’t know how I don’t want friends.
You don’t know how hard I try to be happy all of the time.

It seems the only time I can truly be myself is in Chinese.
No one can see my face.
No one looks at me.
No one talks to me.

Another second goes by.
Another minute.
Another hour.
Another anxious feeling to see you.

— The End —