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Becca Apr 2018
Last night I let you in,
more than normal.
I let you in because I see you.

I see you,
but do you see me?

I know, I know, I am not supposed to love you,
not supposed to think about you.

Yet, my lips they yearn for yours
to meet as often as the sea meets the shore

I know, I am not supposed to love you,
but your eyes pull me
your heart is a beat i love to dance to
and your person, well is a person I have to try not to love

and much like the rest of the world
am not supposed to love you.
Becca Apr 2018
Into the toxicity of your mind
The crafted words from your soft lips
To someone without my ears
To someone with your heart

Into the poisonous of your arms  
Which are now holding someone without my body
Touching skin that is not mine
And elating feelings that for me no longer exist

Into your lethal heart
That used to beat for me
Now beats a rhythm I cannot longer dance to
And holds a song I no longer sing

Into your veneered eyes
The longing look of love
Straining to peer at eyes that are not mine
Answered by someone without my pupils

How I long for insight into your mind
A mind I no longer care for
But still yearn for validation from
A mind for which is no longer vacant for me
Becca Apr 2018
A day without you,
Is like a day without land

But I bought this boat,
I said goodbye

I am not allowed to yearn,
For the grass under my feet

I told the grass and trees,
I don’t want them anymore

So here I am,
At sea

But sometimes those waves,
That once rocked me to sleep

Ya those waves I wanted,
Instead of leaves

They crash over me,
Until I cant breath

And I cry out for land,
Just to steady me

But the land isn’t there,
Because I said no more

And the sea is endless,
And there is no shore

So Ill sail away,
Until tomorrows end

Because the land I need,
I told to leave.
Becca Jan 2016
I am force fed mud,
and expected to create water.
Surrounded by darkness,
and told to be the light.
I am deceived,
only to spill the truth.
I am what you made me:
very, very flawed.
Becca Jul 2015
I did not do it for you,
punch that mirror,
slice my hand open,
which is now stitched up.

I did it for me,
to get through to the reflection,
to inform them,
they are better without you.

I did not do it for you,
I did it for the hand attached to me,
because it will never know
the pain of being alone.

I did it for me,
So I could justify my crying,
I wasn't some stupid girl,
Upset over a boy.

I didn't do it for you,
I promise,
I did it for me,
I love to hurt.
Becca Jul 2015
Fresh and cold,
Traces of others are left behind,
                                Warm from someone else’s body.
     Bright green and pungent,
                                        Rows and rows of structure.
              Arms stretched out inviting you in,
                   Desks buckle you in for your journey,
          Constrained in the sea of green,
One amongst a hundred.
           Smells of sweet and pungent fill your nostrils,
                         Making you queasy,
                  Reminding you, you are not the first,
      Nor the last.
                All facing the same structure,
     Illuminated by rows and rows of lights,
Empty wooden U- shaped chairs stare back,
Blank screens stare to the rows and rows of green.
            A clock reminds you of life,
           It slowly ticks
You wonder when this ticking will stop,
        And you too will be just part of the structure.
   Imagine this room flooded,
No with water,
    Nor a basic organic matter,
     But faces like daisies peeking up,
To try and get some of that light.
Complex and curious,
The green does not move,
But calls for the movement of others,
Pleading for you to get closer to the light,
To the blank,
That is center stage.
Trapped in green,
You cannot move,
Arms incase you,
Desks control you,
And this light,
It has captured you.
Becca Jul 2015
I was a triangle.
Three sided.

I thought you were too.
Three sided.

Two triangles.
A diamond.

One side.

Second Side.

Third Side.

You were a circle.
One side.

Around and around.
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