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Victoria Mar 2019
I wonder if I really am kind hearted.
Most people think it’s true,
But maybe I’m just afraid of being mean-
Maybe I’m afraid of being you.
Victoria Feb 2019
I've got a pair of little black boots
boots that tell monochrome stories;
So when you see my little black boots,
think of their colorful glories.
Victoria Feb 2019
My laptop clicks when I type.
Click-Click-Click
And even when i'm not quite sure what it is i'm typing,
it still clicks onward.
Click-Click-Click
Onward, as if I was typing something important.
My fingers dancing sporadically over keys,
in that same heavy-
Click-Click-Click
But,when I look up, I just see jumbled letters, meaningless little black doodles sprawled across the screen,lifeless conglomerations of things I know and don't.
Click-
Maybe I just wanted to hear the sound.
Victoria Feb 2019
Lavender lotion
Mom told me that would make it better
Just breathe once or twice
And put on that one old fleece lined sweater
Pray to god and heaven and angel
Put my thoughts down in a letter
Lavender lotion, lavender lotion
Was nothing but a happiness debtor
Victoria Feb 2019
Once upon a midnight,windy,
Graveyard heavy, tombstone weary,
Rose a man of great renowned-
The writer of which works can be found
Classroom sat in many a volume galore.
As the news and folk declare-
The dead whose lungs again took in air,
The writer who now stood before-
T’was Poe (and raven) of “Nevermore”.

“So if it be daemon, omen, curse or hex-”
In deciding action next, he spoke forth these words of old,
“I have been given further morrow, time of which furthers my sorrow,
Yet if I may this new life borrow- borrow perhaps to bring prose more-
In the hope,to continue prose more-
Pen to paper I’ll restore.”

Many a night spent struggling to create rhymes anew,
Edgar realized how language had changed,
For **** no longer meant to slay, and his beloved had turned to bae!
On his desk the perched bird had flown-
To say these words in had it flown-
Quoth the Raven “Just use Rhymezone.”
Victoria Feb 2019
I planted a flower awhile ago,
by window where little light came through.
Somehow, still, it chose to grow-
so maybe I can too.
Victoria Feb 2019
People undervalue being alone-
Turning everybody else into white noise mush that turns my brain all fuzzy inside and out,
or having the rain pound pavement into ravines and mountain ranges,
rivers left behind that cause my old shoes to fill up like leaking boats.

Being alone is kind of okay.
I like feeling like a ghost sometimes, roaming around in the fuzz or the rain like the tv pictures floating around in bad-connection static-
And time goes very slowly and you wonder if it’s even passing at all...

But you’re alone, so it doesn’t matter how long you disappear for, it’s just you and your dull headache.
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