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 Nov 2021 calypso
Isabella
Beauty
 Nov 2021 calypso
Isabella
Young girl, this is the beauty you’ll grow up to be- she's charming, pretty, loved endlessly
A head that behaves, nods never shakes, knows her place in the world, where she stays
She’s oh so adored, teeth white as pearls, a smile that brightens the desperate world
She’s graceful but strong, knows she belongs, and never dares utter a word we’d deem wrong

Young girl, this is the beauty you’ll grow up to be- it only takes practice, as you’ll soon see
Even out textures, messy imperfections, it’s a small price to pay for a life of attention
Don’t wear too much or you’ll look like a ****, but once you wipe it off you’re not trying enough
Time to embrace your flawless new face, nobody will miss the one it replaced

Young girl, this is the beauty you’ll grow up to be- you’ll look young forever if you do what you need
You can start now, it’s never too early, you’d hate to get older and look more than thirty
But it’s not all your fault your body failed you, you’ve got surgery now to come and save you
You’ll be cut apart and sewn back together, needles, knives, bruises, and scars til you’re better

Young girl, this is the beauty you’ll grow up to be- thin and starving until you can’t breathe
You’ll never look at food the same way again, for dear it’s nothing now but a weapon
Avoid or purge but never digest, do what you can to stay looking your best
Headaches, discomfort, the cycle of shame, you cannot turn back, no never again
Emaciated, weak, but see you fit in what you wear! Don’t give up now, you’re almost there

Young girl, this is the beauty we’ll raise you to be- you’re on your way now, I know it’s exciting
Glowing, shining, beaming fulfillment, there must be a hole but this beauty will fill it
I know that you cannot wait to grow up, a shell of you now but you’ll at least be enough
A life of affection that outshines your cries, smiling bright, even if it never reaches your eyes
 Apr 2019 calypso
S
tear
 Apr 2019 calypso
S
There's so much beauty in sadness and grief
and in the colours black, white and grey

but today there isn't
it's sad i guess that sadness has to be misunderstood
and that these colours are seen as so negative

they are so beautiful
and comforting
and striking
and real

but life taints everything pure
it forgives no one

maybe i am life
 Apr 2019 calypso
samantha wells
there was this boy
my friends hung out with him
they told me stories about how cool he was
i saw pictures and was immediately drawn to his smile
but there was hurt in his eyes
i had to meet this boy

there was this boy
and it was finally time to meet him
my friends and i walked to meet him half way
i was so scared
i wanted him to like me
i wanted to be his friend so bad
he laughed
but even more so in person, i could see pain enveloped deep in his eyes
i had to get to know this boy

there was this boy
and we quickly became close
we all hung out in a group and called each other "ohana"
every day of the summer, we'd smoke *** and laugh and walk the nature trails
i felt happiness in every inch of my body around them
this boy, he was the nicest of them all
even in our happiest moments
i was still reminded that he felt pain
i had to fix this boy

there was this boy
and finally, i figured him out
he told me of his past
and his abusive parents
all of his insecurities were out in the open
he told me he compared himself to everyone
he showed me his scars, and not all of them were self-inflicted
i cried with him and i held him in my arms
all of the hurt in the pit of his being made sense now
i had to show this boy that i loved him

there was this boy
and after a while, he, i, and our friends grew apart
we still loved each other
but we felt we needed to move on
our lifestyles were changing and i personally was scared i was making partying into mine
he was the one i wanted to hold on to
i'd never met someone with a soul so bright
and a heart so big
i couldn't leave him with that hurt in his eyes
i had to keep this boy

there was this boy
and he invited me to hang out one halloween
his new friends were there
and we went for a walk
they stopped behind the trees to smoke some ***
i declined
when we went back to the house to watch a scary movie
he was cuddled up with his new friends
i was alone on the floor
i felt discarded
i stopped talking to him, with really no explanation
somehow i forgot about the pain in his eyes
maybe it was time to let go of this boy

there was this boy
i heard he moved on to partying with more than just ****
we all had always been worried about how he treated being high
but i felt like it wasn't my place
i felt i didn't deserve to tell him how to live his life
he wouldn't listen to me anyway
i wished i had asked him if he were okay, at least
how could i forget all the pain i saw in his eyes
i was concerned for this boy

there was this boy
i got a message one day that we lost him
he was found passed away in his car
an OD, they said
i couldn't believe it
i had no words when i got the news
i quickly had to leave where i was
how could this happen?
is this real?
i sat for a long time
just sat
i felt the pain that was in his eyes
why did this boy have to leave?

there was this boy
and i saw him lying in that wooden box
that was the first day i cried for him
he didn't deserve to die
and when people asked how he passed, i didn't want to say
because he was so much more than the drug
he couldn't be remembered that way
as i walked up to say my final goodbyes, all i wanted to do was hug him
hold him and make all the pain go away
now that i couldn't see the pain in his eyes, i didn't recognize him
i hope he doesn't feel pain anymore
i will forever miss this boy
dedicated to nick
i'll never forget you
 Apr 2019 calypso
samantha wells
I'm not a poet
the words I jot down have no particular purpose
"poetry", to me,  is supposed to be cathartic
enabling
relieving
only I know what my words make me feel
only I know what really goes on beyond the words I articulate
I feel in no way professional while writing poetry
I don't try
I just do

I'm not a poet
Poetry is my release
After I write, I can breathe.
I can think.
I can make sense of the feelings I wasn't sure I was even feeling before.
Like having a conversation with myself,
I'm the only person I can talk to.

No, I'm not a poet.
But I think that's okay.
Because it's my therapy instead
 Nov 2018 calypso
daisypunk
my harp is comprised of broken strings
clipped and stripped down bare
each note rings flat and falters
worn tired by every new sheet
 Oct 2018 calypso
Sarah
between
 Oct 2018 calypso
Sarah
if i'm not falling i'm flying
if i'm not changing i'm dying

why can i only exist at extremes
instead of living in between?
this is really short but ya know. it is what it is i guess.
 Oct 2018 calypso
daisypunk
beacon
 Oct 2018 calypso
daisypunk
you are a shining beacon
shooting through all my shadows
built up over the long years

like an artifact long lost
you polish and shine
until i am golden

i will live every day
under the warmth of
your glowing sun

knowing fully
that i am wanted
and i am loved

— The End —