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Meg Apr 2016
we found our
wings
but
the world saw butterflies

Again, it's a
mystery
My friend wrote this
Meg Apr 2016
someone once told me
pain is like water;
you need a little
to know you're alive,
but too much
will drown you.
and now I think
isn't it funny
how the things we do
to feel alive
are the things
that can **** us?

i suppose
it's because
we just want to feel
**something
I've been writing a lot of poetry lately. Sorry if I'm obnoxious. Credit to my friend for being the ambiguous person whose quote I used. (Take that, Danny.)
Meg Apr 2016
perfect matches
seem to stare down the
stars,
but together, there's
chemistry - which
turns to
tumultuous
dreams
despite the fiery
mystery
This is a blackout poem I wrote using a newspaper.
Meg Apr 2016
emotional stakes
are changed
when a young girl,
tasked to bring hellfire,
lays off the trigger
This is a blackout poem I wrote using a newspaper.
Meg Apr 2016
Forsaken
stars
Exposed
to the death
of
corruption
This is another blackout poem I wrote using a newspaper.
Meg Apr 2016
Death
is
the
Confession of
when the past
comes back
to haunt
This is another blackout poem I wrote using a newspaper.
Meg Apr 2016
the sky
flutters,
alighting
with
powers of
the ever-droll
last performances
of certainty -
or so they would like to think
This was a blackout poem I wrote using a newspaper. More likely to come.
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