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 Jan 14 Celia
Ashari Ty

Skies are beautiful
They have clouds
But they still cry

Why wouldn't you?

You are beautiful
You have poems
You can cry too
Because crying is honesty to your emotions, and honesty is beautiful ;)
 Dec 2018 Celia
Dor
My heart beats wildly
Fiercely.
But

I am an empty vessel.
No soul...
Nothing.

I yearn for something more.
But I won't let
Myself have it.

I will not allow
This sort
Of happiness
Belong in my
Life.

The one where
One loves
Another.

These are the rules
In my heart.
Permanently etched.

Wish I could melt
My feelings
Away.
Into.
A.
Giant.
Sea.

You see,
I am not cut out
For this happiness.

Overthinking.
Overdoing.
Overachieving.
Over-trying.
­I am just over-everything.
 Oct 2018 Celia
Ben Adam Johnston
I'm trying
I'm dying
I'm lying
I'm crying

I'm trying to fight my mind
I'm dying to let you know how I feel
I'm lying about being ok
I'm crying alone

I'm trying to help myself
I'm dying to save you
I'm lying I don't want to be here
I'm crying because I'm scared

I'm trying to fight back the tears
I'm dying with the thoughts
I'm lying I'm not trying
I'm crying out for help

I'm trying
I'm dying
I'm lying
I'm crying
I'm alone my grandfather died a few weeks ago my father has 24 hours to live.
 Sep 2018 Celia
Alexander
A wolf in the wild,
A woman in a concrete jungle
but put a mirror
in front of one,
And the reflection will show the other.
 Sep 2018 Celia
Virtuous
Don't tell me I'm pretty
Tell me that I'm passionate
That I have drive
Tell me that I make you laugh
That I know how to make your day better
Don't tell me I seem nice
Tell me that I'm kind and compassionate
Tell me that I'm not afraid to dream and to dream big
Don't tell me I'm perfect
Tell me the you love me despite my flaws
That you want to spend the rest of your life with me
Don't tell me I'm beautiful
Tell me that you'll be faithful and forever true
 Sep 2018 Celia
eF
Yourself.
 Sep 2018 Celia
eF
“You’re not good enough”
Is the one sentence you should
Never tell yourself.
Hi. I’ve been struggling with this my whole life. It’s like I’ll never be able to convince myself. I feel like my poetry is at a decline. I feel as if nothing I write is good. I couldn’t tell you the amount of “drafts” &  private poems I have on here just because I’m afraid.
Afraid of ridicule.
Afraid of hating myself more.
Afraid of everything.
 Sep 2018 Celia
Zizaloom
Let us bloom under the moonlight
Like withered flowers waiting patiently for their roots to grow back
For the night is the only time of the day
Or the day is the only time of the night
When life stretches itself and memories become vulnerable to the light
The eyes roll and turn
They strike face to face with the brain
In front of a thousand whispers
A thousand cries
Rotten kisses and gullible lies
Stroke a shell on the searing sand
Every little grain shivers against its neighbor
And the whole beach arouses to the perturbation
A stranger yet so inoffensive
But even microscopic acarines
Whirl in the wind of a sneeze
So before starting to snap your tongue on the roof of your mouth
Catch your words in your throath
And taste them
Guzzle
Do not forget their savor
Catch them fast
If you are not as swift as a tender breeze
You will swallow your own thick tongue
You will become your words
And these words will reflect you
A big satisfying outcome
How solemn would it be
To dance to the rhythm
Of your baked coal heart
Drumming on its cage
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