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Dec 2021 · 4.8k
fairytale dream
Emilie Vang Dec 2021
he used his hands to touch around my pure bare smooth skin
and told me it was supposed to feel magical,
but what is magic without a shinny golden lamp?
he rubbed it three time and continued.
he told me that i was a princess, untouchable to others, but him.
set on a perfect seated throne.
that seat was made just for me.
he ignored every blood drip drop
and shoved the glass slipper in as if it fit.
he whispered into my ear
and told me, i sounded like mourning birds chirping
as i screeched horridly being poisoned by an apple.
it felt like a needle pricking in and out of my skin.
laying there in eternity, still and steady.
wishing i could forever sleep.
but how can i sleep forever when he is the beast that has held me captive in his castle of words?
“the princess is supposed to kiss the frog and he will turn into a prince.”
i kissed the frog.
no.
i did even more, but he was nothing like their stories.
his story was different from the books.
he told me it was my fault that i was a singing siren.
i was just too desirable,
so he had to pull me out of the water and show me something new.
it's kind of based on disney princesses, which ones can you point out?
May 2021 · 1.3k
Home
Emilie Vang May 2021
Home
you smell like home.
i didn’t realize the phrase “home is where the heart is” until i met you.
anywhere you are, any place you’ll be.
my heart follows you.
i’ve never yearned to be home so badly before,
but when i’m apart from you.
you’re all i can think about.
i miss your sweet smell of home.

i wrote the words of home and placed you in with it without knowing what home truly meant.
my nose was clogged by the smell of lust and confused you with home.
i didn’t realize that till after i smelled the same detergent that you used, on someone else.
i yearned for you, because i confided in you to be someone i’d feel safe and secure.
but i let a strangers in.
i do not know you, and you showed me the parts only you wanted me to see.
you filled my ears up with soft lullaby lies.
pretended that you were my home,
and i realized too late that i already had a home in myself.
all you did was barge in without knocking.
invaded my safe place.
trashed it all up, took whatever you could, and then left.
oh, i’m glad you left, but please give me back the things you took.
i don’t regret you though, you were a lesson to teach me not to take other peoples ****.
no matter how much you hurt me, i wanted us to work.
my eyes were blinded covered by glass.
i saw all the red flags and chose to ignore the doorbell ringing.
oh how it ***** to be me.
*the second part was a splurge in the moment type of poem so if it sounds bad, sorry ):*
Apr 2021 · 478
nowhere
Emilie Vang Apr 2021
have you ever felt stuck?
stuck in between nowhere.
you’re just place in the middle of an empty ongoing black room.
unable to move.
in the middle of nowhere.
to be found in nothingness.
to be lost in a void.
as i lay on my bed and the days move on by, i feel lifeless with every breath that i breathe.
it’s a torture of silence,
because silence speaks loudly.
it screams at me with rage.
i lay on this queen sized bed motionless with every toss and turn.
i do not feel a single thing.
like time has made my heart stop ticking.
it’s dried up and hollow,
as i morn for myself to be me again.
why do my tears overflow with sorrow,
but my entire heart is unused?
it’s very controversial,
but i am stuck in the middle of nowhere
with a heart that is unable to be found.
laying here on a queen size bed
and nothing but an emotionless cry for help.
Mar 2021 · 207
thoughts
Emilie Vang Mar 2021
i wish you were just a chapter in my book,
but i realized it too late.
you were my whole book.
every page of our timeless time had to end.
our love story had to end,
because everything was just written in the way i wanted to see it.
it was seen in glasses of rose colored lens.
Dec 2020 · 72
Always
Emilie Vang Dec 2020
i always indirectly mention you, every year on this day.
i wonder why?
maybe it’s because i still feel undeserving of you.
until then, i won’t mention who you are.
but you hold a special place to me.
always.
i know you won’t ever know now,
but i’d like to believe you knew how much you meant to me.
i won’t ever be able to talk to you again, but i hope you knew how much i loved you.
unworthy.
that’s how i feel every moment i think about you.
they all knew you, but i- i couldn’t stand a chance.
neglect is something i never knew can hurt me so much.
i wish i could go back in time and seen you smile some more.
i’m ashamed.
i know you wouldn’t want me to feel this way,
but it’s very deserving of me.
your kind heart was too kind.
thank you for every hug and every kiss.
i will always and forever love you most.
i never knew i could create oceans,
but you, you made it possible.
and every year they come roaring back.
12/26/2017
May 2020 · 134
Moles
Emilie Vang May 2020
Black small things on my face.
They never seem to go away.
The only one with so much out of my sisters.
I can’t seem to tell if I’m different with all these whispers.
Let me tell you a little story.
A little story, I shall tell you.
Keep it hush.
Yes, please do.
Down to memory lane, let’s run this cue.
Once was a little girl, with six dots on her face.
Questions asked, so let’s cut to the chase.
“What are the dots on your face?”
“Why do you have so many?”
“Are they freckles?”
No. I don’t know. And, no.

Back to the top, now here we go.

Black small things on my face.
They never seem to go away.
The only one with so much out of my sisters.
I can’t seem to tell if I’m different with all these whispers.
But my mother can.
She meant no harm.
However, harm was all that was felt.
I know she just wanted me to be the same.
It really was a shame.
“There was too many” she heard and said.
Which left my self-confidence to dread.
Pick in, pick out.
The dots would continue to fall down.
But they’re a part of me.
They would come back and sprout.

I believe I’m okay now.
Like was stated before,
My mother meant no harm.
And I still love her very much as usual.
I believe she was doing her best.
And her best was the best.
Feb 2020 · 84
I wonder
Emilie Vang Feb 2020
I wonder what I look like to you.
As your eyes carefully look at me,
Am I as ugly as I seem or as pretty as I deem to be?
Am I a painted perfect picture or a full funny fantastic mess?
Am I what you’re looking for?

I wonder what do I smell like to you.
As I walk past you,
Am I your colors mixed of pink and purple into an ombre affect?
Am I the sweet smelling flowers that draws you in or the soft blue skies that warms up your heart?
Am I what catches your attention?

I wonder what I feel like to you
As we touch,
Am I the touch that electrifies you and makes your heart skip a beat?
Am I the soothing soul that relaxes you into drowning real deep?
Am I what pulls you in?

I wonder what does my voice sound to you.
As we speak the words that we do,
Am I the cause of your laughter or the cause of your anger?
Am I the soothing voice that talks to you at three in the morning?
Am I what you want to listen to?

I wonder what I taste like to you
As we never have before,
Am I what you’re craving for as I wish our lips would touch like hands in hand
Am I the bitter honeybee comb that you long for?
Am I what you want?

Please tell me.
Softly and carefully,
I wonder, what will it be.
Dec 2019 · 276
No longer here
Emilie Vang Dec 2019
It’s been two years,

I remembered when I use to continuously Ask for you to come back to me,
But that was stupid.
You physically couldn’t.
Not even mentally.

Time stood still for me.
It still stands the same as I don’t ask for You to come back anymore
But I still yearn for you secretly when I’m Alone at night.

The full moon falls as my heart drops.
The night sky cries as I lie down quietly.

I remember when I used to not be able to write about you,
Because what is there to communicate to someone who won’t be able to hear my words.

My mouth. No words.
My lips. Won’t move.
But my tears will fall.
Although I don’t know why it does.
It’s been two years.

I guess still miss you.
it’s not the date yet but is close 12/26/19
Sep 2019 · 73
It’s 3 a.m.
Emilie Vang Sep 2019
I feel so alone, even when I’m surrounded.
It’s three a.m.
and all I could think about is words that don’t correlate in my head.
They’re mindless thoughts in my mind,
full of nothing with nothing to fill.
I cannot make out what I’m thinking.
It’s hurting how much I confuse myself.
The sun comes up and the day goes on and I am happy again.
I make more memories.
Then I come home, straight to bed I go.
Laying there.
It’s three a.m. again.
I lay there not knowing why it’s hurting so much.
It’s like a black hole has ****** my happiness away.
The next day comes and full of joy, my day goes by filled with love and happiness.
I go home.
It’s 2:59 a.m.
Tic tok, the clock stops.
Then again, three a.m. appears.
It’s as if it’s mocking me.
Mocking me everyday when I come home alone, alone in the dark I lay.
But when morning comes, I don’t feel the pain.
As if I’m as bright as the rays,
And when night comes, the cycle repeats.
It repeats and repeats, shall silent keep me at bay?
Aug 2019 · 74
I miss you
Emilie Vang Aug 2019
If we were never meant to be,
You’d leave.
And all the melodies along with you would disappear into the abyss.
They’re the melodies of my heart,
They play on repeat like a broken record.
I miss you.
I-
I-
Mi-
You
Would you miss me?
Jul 2019 · 103
Dear lover,
Emilie Vang Jul 2019
Paint me in the colors that you want me to be in.
Kiss me just as passionately as the colors burst right in front of your eyes.
Touch me like the rain does so casually.
Drip, drop.
Down, up.
Let me hear the soft tunes of those lullabies as I slowly fall asleep so deeply.
goodnight.
Jun 2019 · 165
The .04% to my 99.96%
Emilie Vang Jun 2019
I’m trapped inside nothingness and I am left defenseless.
It seems to be pitch black as I open and close my eyes, there is nothing to be seen.
To be specific, it’s Vantablack.
It’s one of the darkest substance that’s known and it absorbs 99.96% of visible light.
You, you are my .04% when I’ve lost hope.
You, you are the thing that keeps me going.
I know the faith of mine has been wavering.
But you, you God are the reason I’m fighting to find my .04% chance of light again.

— The End —