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The Broken Poet Dec 2016
People always ask me:
What do you want to be
when you grow up?
I reply:
A boss.
People already say,
I'm bossy as hell
and maybe that's why,
I get called a *****,
but I wear that crown:
like a ******* queen.
The Broken Poet Dec 2016
Hope is an imaginary pile of *******.
The Broken Poet Oct 2016
I feel alone
like I have
no place
to call mine.
I do not
I go,
there are
familiar faces
with unknowing
smiles and
lying lips.
I am just
a walking figure,
no one notices me.
I am so alone
in a sea full
of people.
I am stuck
in my own head
wishing to escape
but no one notices.
I scream into
the abyss
hoping someone
will hear
but I am
Slowly sinking
into a mass of
depression and
The Broken Poet Oct 2016
I deserve
every ounce
of torture
upon me.
The Broken Poet Oct 2016
There are some
in life
that will
stay with us
that will
never cease
to evaporate
from our
and I knew
when I locked
eyes with him
my hand resting
in his that I would
never forget
his ocean blue
eyes which I
drowned in
only to resurface
struck with
forbidden feelings
of love and
I will never
forget him.
The Broken Poet Sep 2016
I hate feeling
I wish I could turn it off
Emotions will ****
Flooding in
But persistent.
I really wish
I was stone and
cold hearted
as they claim
I am.
The Broken Poet Sep 2016
I have spent
far too much
time alone.
My thoughts
are creeping in
my everyday
How can I
silence them?
pretend like they
aren't mine.
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