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 Jan 6 Vesper
Thirty Nine
Your flowers died last Monday
But I couldn't bear to throw them out
Sad and Looking down
Just like me
Wilted, Rotting and Brown
Just like you
 Dec 2024 Vesper
Liana
Nothing is ugly
Like nothing is beautiful

These are mere ideas
Just concepts really
Opinions

So when we could easily be
A beautiful concept
We choose to use the word
"Ugly"

Both are wrong
Both are right

You decide
Which one you call yourself
In the mirror tonight
Just today I heard a girl looking in the mirror in the bathroom and calling herself ugly and a few minutes later girls called her pretty. She didn't know. And honestly, both are wrong, and both are right.

(This note was written by a special grain of sand)
 Dec 2024 Vesper
Thirty Nine
"All parents are like this"
You said annoyed at your child's 'sensitivity'
Then wonder why your child wont become a mother or father
They won't risk becoming the thing they fear
 Dec 2024 Vesper
Nat Lipstadt
“We could never see tomorrow
No one said a word about the sorrow
The Bee Gees

a simple rhyme, a plaint familiar,
for those who have never stared
down train tracks, which is a lesson
in recognizing
the uncertainties of
living,
even if linearly visualized,
t h e o r e t i c a l l y

can veer to destinations unknown,
worthy of being dreaded, thinking
what are the odds today is the last,
and maybe now and then, not just
dismissing,them so easily

but it always brings on pain old
and familiar, recollecting of the
way life never asks you first, the

swiftness of two life lines colliding
with the
s u d d e n e s s
unfathomable
of 2 locomotives crashing,
head on
and leaving behind
a desolation breathtaking

it is a well lit winter morning,
cold light, but the direct sun
leaves a general okayness,
and you trudge along,
head bent, respecting the chilling,
calculating the distance to
the warmth of a planned
destination,
but here I remind
all of us:

”No one said a word
about the sorrow

Dec ‘24
i have to be

smaller

skipping

breakfast

lunch

dinner

eating

never

i­ weigh myself

constantly

can't

the hunger

a beast

i cannot

give in

i must be strong

but then why

the less

i eat

the weaker

i

feel?
if you couldn't tell, im not ok
i remember the scratching sound of the record player
i remember the sharp blade of the scissors as the dim light reflected
i remember the noise of the cars 4 stories below
i remember the pills i thought of dying from so many times
i remember getting so acquainted with death that i tried to join him
i remember the red lines on my wrist
i remember feeling the sharp sting
i remember the music giving me life
i remember the music making me feel things that i don't feel
i remember the lights
i remember fading away
i remember my phone wallpaper
i remember the music taking me away
i remember blades of grass, so sharp in the morning sun
i remember sitting in my window nook as it rains
i remember the noise
i remember shutting down
i remember foggy mornings
i remember not talking
i remember not moving
i remember not being able to breathe
i remember the streetlights
i remember not feeling like myself
i remember looking in the mirror and seeing a stranger
i remember the sound of a fountain pen on parchment paper
i remember the taste of lemonade in the summer
i remember cloth scraping against flesh
i remember ribs poking through translucent skin
i remember dizziness
i remember the hunger
i remember the sun
i remember the rain
i remember drawing with posca markers on my arm
i remember dancing in puddles
a poem based on a kind i learned at a camp. write down i remember, and then the next thing that comes to mind to complete the sentence. i had to leave the room to cry in the bathroom for an hour. this will never be finished, ill just come back every so often and add to it
im ok
im ok
im ok
im ok
im fine
but the scissors cut deeper and deeper every time
im ok
im ok
im ok
im fine
but lying in by bed, i start to think its my time
im ok
i say
im ok
im ok
im ok
im ok
im ok
im ok
im ok
im ok
im ok
im ok
im ok
im ok
im ok
im ok
































im not
yeah... pretty self-explanatory
 Dec 2024 Vesper
Nobody
don't cry
 Dec 2024 Vesper
Nobody
don't cry
when i die.
crying over me
is just as useful
as crying over spilled milk.
 Dec 2024 Vesper
Lumin Guerrero
Your hand, grasped tightly
With the promise to never let go.

You kept your promise.
But I came to realize that your grasp was too tight
Too suffocating
Not right.

I commend you for keeping your word,
And I fault you for my wounds.

For it was you,
You with the razor stuck to your palm,
Blade facing out.

You who would graze it across thighs and
Cut
Them
Up
Into
pieces.

Cut
Me
Up
Into
Pieces -
Fragments -
Nothing.

You kept your promise.
But it hurt to hold on, the blade pressing against my hand
And cutting deep deep into the flesh.

And so I was the one who had to break the bond,
The promise,
And let go.

Still I itch and pick at the wounds that contain the memories of you;
Of the promises I broke,
And the scars you left behind.
Toxic friends **** guys
 Dec 2024 Vesper
Nobody
we are all wearing black
this is the day before i die
hold in your tears now,
please don't cry

i ask for one last dance
and you say 'yes'
so we hold hands and twirl around,
you look so pretty in your black dress

we dance for hours
until i run out of time
when i fall to the floor
look up, the stars are out; after all, it is nighttime

the stars mean nothing
when you aren't here.
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