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 Aug 2018 Sadly Kida
Orange Rose
I wrote a poem when I died...
Another at my birth.
A brand-new sonnet when I cried.
And again when there was mirth.

A song for my confession...
A story for my pain...
A painting for depression...
And nursery rhymes for rain.

My creations live inside my heart.
I keep them there in shame.
Yet you looked around and saw my art,
And smiled all the same.
They said our 20s were supposed to be easy
They never said that i would have to
Count backwards from one hundred to
Curb a breakdown
They said sedation will calm you
Down
But no one ever considered
That my neuroticism is what gave
Me my power to write

No one prepared me for the nights
I dont remember
For the car accidents that happened
But never really happened
The accidents that only existed as scars
On my car
That my splintered mirrors
Only showed a fraction of my illness

I was never supposed to be the person
To leave the party early
Because there was an anomaly in the wallpaper
I was unable to ignore

No one prepares you for the enemies
You make of yourself
Or the holes in your memory
Where your dignity leaks out

I never knew I could tell the time
By counting my tears on my tile floor
And that  springs of my
Bed would twang the sad anthem id never sing

Because i was bloated with
The probability that
My anxiety was
Scrawled on my skin
That my anguish was apparent
And my life floated in a glass
Half empty
And ever-transparent

I believed
No one would want to be with
Someone with so much baggage
I had to check in in order to get on a plane

Ive spent my 20s on the verge of
Implosion
I was never meant to
Crave sterility
And the absence of emotion

What if my mispoken words
Were perfectly aligned
With the trajectory of my life
And that I was meant to
Teach people
Through this story
That even the
“Wrong words come
Out right”
prosepoetry depression healing
 May 2018 Sadly Kida
Siren
I should take a day off
Walk
Or Drive
Knowing my ending destination
Your house
Promising to stare
Sit and wait
Sit and wait
Why?
You owe me an explanation
What do I know?
The kind of car you drive
What time you leave for work
What time you're at the gym
When you'll be home
No
It's not what you think
I'm not a stalker
You told me
Remember?
We shared these memories
We used to be that close
Then
You ruined it
Ruined me
For the longest of time
Why wasn't I good enough for you?
I guess somethings go unexplained
But I'll be waiting
She is water

She dance like the waves
Swaying as the wind blows
Soft enough when she's calm
And tough enough when she's mad

She is not a real water
But deep enough to make me drown
Well basically, 60 percent of the human's body is made up of water. Lol
 Apr 2018 Sadly Kida
adriana
we both knew that we were in deep.
we knew before it even started.
actually, we're not even that deep.
only six feet under the ground.
prematurely dead and overly tortured.
both feet in the grave.
both with one hand over our eyes.
both with one hand over our mouths.
by the time we saw, there was nothing left to see.
by the time we spoke, no one could hear.
we were just that deep.
just deep enough that we can't go back.
"You are not fresh", suggested my flesh.
Yet, every gem of my body tells me that I am fresh,
And all the snowflake's songs whisper in my ear that I am fresh!

“You are not fresh", asserted my intellect.
Yet, my deeds have the fragrance of  flowers,
And my thoughts are painted with the color of spring!

“You are not fresh”, sighed my heart.
Yet, my days keep blossoming with joy and happiness,
And my imagination is colored with boyish dreams!

“You are not fresh” whispered my conscience.
Yet, youth is not measured by age, but by the number of smiles
 You draw on people's faces, and the lives you touch!

“You are not fresh” insisted my ego.
Yet, the moon has become more elegant with brightness after long age,
And the sun has revealed more beauty after shining for millions of years!

Hussein Dekmak
Edited 2
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