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 Mar 2019 Denise Uy
Yasin
I always had a bad habit of not finishing my sentence because
 Feb 2019 Denise Uy
Juneau
the roses are dead
the violets are too
if you want to join them
i'll come with you
February 12 2019

fifty-nine

Just kidding*fingers crossed*
Why is suicide so ****?
 Feb 2019 Denise Uy
grace
time
 Feb 2019 Denise Uy
grace
I want to hold his hand
I want to call him mine
He says not tomorrow
But if not then, than when
There is such a place, you know--
one that transcends time and space
and visions of what you're supposed to resemble,
and the limits placed by the digits
of your mortal age.

I can feel the presence of it
in my bones,
where the sky is never ending and liberated
and the sun and moon
can openly converse and love and exist,
without the rules of superiors
who like tragic love stories and twisted histories.

Whatever you decide to do, whatever you decide to feel,
there are no restraints
to keep you from the prospects of flying,
or dreaming,
or embracing things that you had to
let go of in another existence.

There is no fear, confusion, or awkwardness,
no doubts of not belonging,
of not deserving to exist in such a place
where your soul can be pure,
and being able to thrive
without having to try so hard
anymore.

You don't have to try anymore to
be a good person,
because you are one.
You don't have to struggle to hold on to yourself,
you don't have to feign ignorance
or enlightenment.

You can breathe and smile openly,
and every smile is so breathtakingly beautiful that
you glow and transcend above all heavens
and insecurities.

The ground is soft and supportive,
giving way to your feet, that no longer
feel so tired and heavy from having to labor to live,
or from constantly running away
from demons and voices
that tear at your conscience and soul.

No, you can now feel as light as air itself,
soft feet running on sunkissed clouds that
formed from tears of happiness.

When it rains,
you don't have to take cover
for it has already washed away all your sorrows and guilts,
guilts in the forms of hot, suppressed tears
in the failures of your lost ambitions
and stolen discoveries,
guilt from turning away, even when someone
asked you for help.

You can forever venture out here,
to unknown, misty, thriving islands and majestic palaces
far away,
you can do things you never got to do,
for you don't have to pretend
to be someone you aren't.

You don't have to live each day questioning
every single telltale of life.

You don't have to wonder anymore
about why the world can be
such a cruel place,
no matter how many rays of hope
reach into the darkness.

You don't have to wonder anymore,
because here
such misery does not exist,
and the ruins of a good soul
dance as a renewed, enlightened being again.

Above all,
you don't have to live someone else's life
because here, you find yourself
over and over
and over again.
07/09/18

The Green of this particular Nirvana is a component that allows you to love and live freely, with no restrictions or heaviness of people weighed down by the world, and themselves.

Here, you are liberated from the faults of others, and the faults of yourself in a time and place where you were ignorant and lost.

Here, there is no society to degrade you. You can exist solely in harmony with nature.

Edit: Wow, I can't believe this poem got chosen to be the Poem of the Day! I've never received so many likes, comments, and feedback on any of my poems, so I feel overwhelmed, but very happy. Thank you for taking the time to read my words; it really means alot to me <3 <3
 Nov 2018 Denise Uy
Isaac Spencer
I wanted to write,
But I don't think anyone will care,
And I think that's why-
I don't think I can share.
I was diagnosed with bipolar as a young teen. It kinda *****, it's so awesome. It's like trying to pull your brain in a million different directions. It's like crippling depression that immediately becomes boundless energy. Like snapping a rubber band.
 Nov 2018 Denise Uy
Ankita Gupta
Sit, pause, relax
This journey is taxed

Destination is ought to come
The journey ought to end

Wonder if you see this again
The trees, the scenes, the mountains

I say sit, pause, relax
This journey is taxed
 Nov 2018 Denise Uy
Raven
He writes poetry
But no one knows

He writes poetry
He writes about love
And loss

He writes about smiles
And frowns

He writes about sorrow
And forgotten towns

He writes about how lost he gets
Caught up in his own mind

He writes poetry to
And about others

But no one knows

Know one knows the depth of his soul
Because they all choose to see the exterior
And that exterior screams

Preppy
And preppy
Don't have souls

Or so they thought
Until the day he was consumed
By his own poetry
 Nov 2018 Denise Uy
Juno
Lockdown
 Nov 2018 Denise Uy
Juno
Here, of all places
Now, of all times
Me, of all people

Tell me, will I live to tell my story?
 Oct 2018 Denise Uy
A M Ryder
They say three can keep a secret, if two of them are dead

Secrets could be simple, if they weren't the type worth being spread

You can bury secrets, I'm sure you're shocked to hear it's true.

But dont dream you'll finish digging, until they first have buried you.
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