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Dreams for sale
the problem with dreams is
everyone’s looking to buy
looking to sell

I hate pretentious poets
Bukowski is the man for me
even he was selling a lifestyle
selling an image

there are studies now that show
trauma impacts the speech center of the brain
that’s why speech is “delayed” in some young children
who’ve experienced trauma

the speech wasn’t late
they were made speechless by the cruelty of this life
maybe that’s why so many of us are drawn to poetry and rap
because we can’t speak

these words are not for sale
they are my salvation
I'm not selling a dream here
just spitting out a reality between clenched teeth
Copyright © 2019 Mariah Simpson All Rights Reserved

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you” ~ Maya Angelou
Beginning of the day
Morning
Light is leaking in from between my white gauzy curtains
Dancing shadows of leaves show a performance on my skin
My golden hair gently moves as I lift up my head
Blood rushes
The familiar scenery of my room leads to content
I stretch,
Arching my back and pointing my toes
One of my socks fell off as I slept
Last night floods my mind
some people say
if it didn't work out
it wasn't meant to be

but take it from someone
who could write a phd
on letting people leave

maybe sometimes
the worthwhile thing
is the fight for it
You
are better
than your
deleted
poems
let's fall off
the edge of the page,
sail beyond the horizon,
leap from the end of the ledge,
sink into the ocean,
then sink deepest...
beyond.

let's slip away
from the rim of the cup,
slide along the edges of ice,
tumble into blades of grass,
roll with the flowers,
soar beyond the reach of the sky.

let's find parts of ourselves,
nobody sees, hears or thinks,
burrow deeper into a new skin,
move away from what has been,
crawl into a place, so far away,
the past will never come around.
I am silent // therefore I know the value of words
Missing you
It's like trying
to breathe under water
and tonight I'm sleeping
at the bottom of the ocean
Haikus are like Blue
Berries bursting in my mouth
Always gone too soon
If you liked, please add it to a collection and say "Hi! Blueberry Pancakes Please!!!" (;
Do you ever wish
that you could disappear?
Just grab your keys and
get the hell out of here?

I’m tired of this town
and I’m sick of this place
where on every single corner,
all I see is your face.

You’ve tattooed each
block, landmark, and street
with memories of us
and what we used to be.

It’s like walking through
an abandoned graveyard,
each store is a headstone
memorializing my heart’s scars.

My foot is heavy on the pedal
in search of somewhere new,
somewhere with a slate wiped
clean of any traces of you.
I actually wrote this after my first boyfriend and I split up when I was sixteen. Just now posting it. Hope someone can maybe relate.
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