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Rochelle Thomas Oct 2018
i think of you
it's an amazing night
i think of you

i yearn a little.
i don't understand these feelings
so deep...****.

i yearn a little, a lot maybe
for you.

i think of you
but it's dumb and it's a misunderstanding of emotions
please talk to me.

do you know?
do you understand?

i want to call on you
i'm scared you'll leave me alone and more desolate than i already am
i'm killing myself with cigarettes
do you know?

i care for you
darling,
Liam
oh, how i care for you.
i got it baaaaad.
Rochelle Thomas May 2017
Pencil to paper
But page stays blank
Thoughts consume my mind
But no words speak out
I cannot comprehend how, why
or when I sank,
So deep, so deep...

Hard to keep the faith
When no faith is left to keep
Am I the big bad wolf
in the clothing of a sheep?
And if I am, how do I stop
these thoughts as they slowly creep,
before I'm knee deep in sin?
Innerlike Konflik
  May 2017 Rochelle Thomas
Enigma GD
Kaleidoscopic intoxication
Planetarial mental immigration
Observation of the general population
The "civilization" hallucination
Control of all the corporations
Propaganda propagation
Colouration discrimination..
Humanitarian emancipation

The sky is falling...
  May 2017 Rochelle Thomas
JR Falk
One.
When my mom found us asleep in my bed at 4am and screamed at you to 'Get the **** OUT of her house,' you texted me the very next morning and asked to see me as though it never even happened.

Two.
When my family went out of town without me for Thanksgiving, we stayed the whole day at your place and watched foreign movies and ate pasta.

Three.
On our first date, we sat in your car until 3am just... talking.

Four.
When my sister really wanted that new Pokemon game and my local Walmart sold out, you voluntarily drove almost 5 towns over just so she could get it because you knew I couldn't for her.

Five.
The first time we had ***, I cried. I still don't know why. You held me the whole time.

Six.
You woke me up with tickets to one of my favorite musicians of all time, for a tour I didn't even know about.

Seven.
When my dogs died, you stayed up with my the whole night as I cried. Both times.

Eight.
The first time you kissed me was at a gas pump at 10pm after I changed out of my blouse and into my hoodie.

Nine.
You took me to Buffalo Wild Wings even though you're a vegetarian. You even put up with my singing each 2008 Billboard Top 100 song as it played. I could tell you were embarrassed for me, but you laughed and kissed me anyway.

Ten.
When I told you I hadn't been to the art museum, you took me. When I told you I'd never been to Chipotle, you took me. When I told you I hadn't felt safe in years, you made me feel the safest I ever have.

Eleven.
After you kissed me the first time, you admitted the thing that "made" you kiss me was my purple-stained lips after I ate Superman ice cream while belting out songs terribly and sitting in the passenger seat of your car.

Twelve.
When I told you that you were a terrible tipper and I was a waitress, you immediately stopped tipping terribly.

Thirteen.
You left me a voicemail telling me you appreciated me, that you felt lucky to have me, and you claimed you didn't deserve me. While I disagree, I felt it. That was the first time I heard you say "I love you" before you had actually said the words "I love you."
CJT.
I love you.

11.30.2016
11:02am
Rochelle Thomas Nov 2016
Narrow roads
Dishevelled hopes
Blank tomorrow's
Is this what lies ahead?
Searching for insolation
But cold shivers surround as the palm pushes me out
What did I do to deserve isolation of the hardest yet
The unrest of another day passing
Asking the question like
Is this life my best bet?
I've endured this devastation for too long
And strike after strike, I've resurfaced again
Tired
Mind completely unsound
Chained, pulled around and round
Unwilled and weak
But I still seek that light
And that hand to dust me off

Begging sometimes seems pointless,
For, what am I here for?
More frustration? More anger? More morbid depression and borderline insanity?
I no longer wonder what possibly could be wrong with me.
There's no specific thing, it's me.
Why are embraces cold and smiles hard?
Why constantly have up my guard?
Why give in to my darkness when I've been rabid for the light since small.
I knew that things would get here, no, I lie.
My Bible's shelfed and dusty
But I know what it says
About children
Who lie.
  Sep 2016 Rochelle Thomas
Cheyenne
Color me happy
Color me wise
Color in colors
Only seen through your eyes

Color in scribbles
Color outside the lines
Color a picture
That is quite unlike mine
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