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  Apr 23 apricot
Kaiden
..
my art is dead
and so am i
say whatever the ******* want but i can see my art dying.
  Apr 22 apricot
Zazu
You didn’t deserve my art
You didn’t deserve my mind
You didn’t deserve my poems
You didn’t deserve my heart

But I gave them to you anyway
  Apr 22 apricot
JayJay
Infinity is not a number
nothing lasts forever
apricot Apr 22
I envy the leaves
That grow from the trees
They're are so carefree
Through the seasons
Unaware of the fall.
I envy the snow
How it's blissfully cold
The world around it is melting
And it still doesn't know.
"Envy the leaves" By Madison Beer
This song has a special place in my heart.
  Apr 22 apricot
The Blue Bottles
i envy the stars,
the way you would stare at them and smile
how you looked so longingly toward them
you wanted to join them
and then you tried.
in your trying, you did not reach them.
you stayed here, on this rotting rock, stuck with me.
your smile has gone away forever. you dont laugh anymore.

i wish i had never let you envy me.
like i envy you
and envy the great shining lights that surround us.
  Apr 22 apricot
Soul-in-poetry
My bed is so warm,
So safe

Leave me here to rot please.
I enjoy the comfort of my bedroom
I don’t mind being left alone

I crave the isolation,
I crave being alone in my thoughts
I crave being calm and tired in my bed

Oh my bed is so warm,
So comfortable

I don’t care for the good weather out
The “exciting things” to do

Just leave me here to rot
I’m just so tired

I know this isn’t healthy,
But I’m scared–
So please just let me hide here,
I feel so weak…
Just a little poem about depression
  Apr 22 apricot
Pablo Neruda
Desnuda eres tan simple como una de tus manos,
lisa, terrestre, mínima, redonda, transparente,
tienes líneas de luna, caminos de manzana,
desnuda eres delgada como el trigo desnudo.

Desnuda eres azul como la noche en Cuba,
tienes enredaderas y estrellas en el pelo,
desnuda eres enorme y amarilla
como el verano en una iglesia de oro.

Desnuda eres pequeña como una de tus uñas,
curva, sutil, rosada hasta que nace el día
y te metes en el subterráneo del mundo

como en un largo túnel de trajes y trabajos:
tu claridad se apaga, se viste, se deshoja
y otra vez vuelve a ser una mano desnuda.
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