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 Oct 2016
Nessa dieR
I thought I should write a happy poem
But I only write at night.
The ink of blood dripping from my heart
becomes thin and transparent in the light.

So if you want me to be honest:
The thought of you fills me with words
yet renders me speechless
to the point where writing hurts.
 Sep 2016
ryn
My mirror hangs stoic,
as silently it absorbs all it could with unbiased eyes.
All it receives under the day's sun.
Yet it never stores...
Not memories recent...
Not images perceived from the distant past...

My mirror
exists in the now.
It gives me only the present.
It reveals unequivocally the ground
upon which I stand.
It divulges only in the brutal and honest truth.
The kind of truth photographs could never tell.

Today it showed me what I've been seeing
with eyes half shut.
It showed me that,
I am older now.
Older than I was yesterday.
Older than I was a second ago.

Every wrinkle told a silent tale.
Every tale left quiet scars.
Every scar sang requiems of past mistakes.
And every mistake costed me my youth.

My mirror showed me that...
I'm older now because I've learnt much.
And I'm learning much more
because I'm older now.
An old photograph of myself inspired this.
 Aug 2016
Ovi-Odiete
This is for you

To all Poets
The once who scream through painful silence
And the depressed wishing for an angel

The troubled souls, lost in self war
And some others mourning a lost one
Then the endless nights that bring tears to your eyes
To the molested one
Drunk in misery
And the others who is searching for a friend


I see you everyday in your words
I hear your Silence written in Ink
I feel your hearts yearning to be mended
I may not be a friend
Or family
But
I am a poet
So
I relate too
Don't curse yourself
Keep dreaming
Keep moving
Life happens~
But at the end
You will come out In success
Never give up
Look to the sky
Someone
Mightier
Than that
Pain
Watches you
Just keep looking
Keep looking


Ovi Odiete©

May your rough road be smooth
I don't know you, but this is for you
 Aug 2016
Lovey
..
Wake up.
Put your mask on.
Make yourself invisble to pain.
Dont break.
Dont cry.
Dont fall.
Dont smile to much.
Dont be to happy.
Dont talk to much.
Dont look anyone in the eye.
Dont show emotion.
Dont feel..

Make yourself look perfect for a person.
Make yourself look "good enough"

Dont eat to much.
Dont talk to certain people.
Dont be friends with this person.
Dont get good grades.
Dont be better than someone else is.
Always stick below everyone one else.

Dont be noticed to much..

Go home.
Cry.
Throw something.
Make yourself look not perfect.
fall to the floor.
How many of you feel exactly like this.
 Aug 2016
Lovey
You're heart is a song.
You're eyes are my favorite place to get lost.
You're love is my favorite thing to sink into.
Our little talks, our smiles, our stares at each other, our silence, our story. They are all my favorite dreams.

You.
I love you, more than I thought.
Secretly you took my heart over.

-Lovey.
 Aug 2016
Lovey
There's rules everyone makes that they live by.
Their morals I suppose.
They ground things that you live by, the lines you draw, the walls you build , and the bridges we burn.

We have our things that keep us "in line". We all have our past some of us try to hide. So we make new rules, we make new lines, we burn more bridges.

Everyone has an idea on who they are. A majority of the time we try to find every way to put ourself down.
We find a way on how we aren't perfect. Everyone tries to make it ok to say they aren't good at this or that.
Every person always says they are less than what someone will tell them they are good at. Worse we try to prove said person who is trying to make you look as a good person.

We get told a million things within our time of living. We all get pushed down. We all get told we aren't good enough. We all fall, we fall further than we can pick ourself up sometimes.  

There will be more people who tell us bad things about ourself than good.
The people who tell you the things that keep you up at night always end up being the people closest to you.

You will never care what a person says that you don't know much. You will  care and stay up at night remembering the words someone you love or trust said to you. You light forget it but they stick for long amounts of time.

You will always stay up at night over thinking the words you tell yourself.
You won't forget them.
Because you are yourself, your own words won't go away easily ever.

Your words are the words that dictate the future you hold. You can make yourself fall by reciting the words you stay up at night hearing.

There will always be more cruel people in the world than nice.
The one person who's the most cruel is secretly yourself.
No one will think that they are the person hurting them self the most but they are.

We all overthink on stepping out of our "comfort" zone.
Because we are scared on either what someone might say, if it'll effect how others feel about you.

We all make things a hundred times harder for our self because you'll think you aren't good enough for a person you haven't even met.

Every bridge we burn, we don't burn enough inside of us.


-Lovey
 Aug 2016
Nessa dieR
What will become of you
Without any dreams to follow?
 Aug 2016
Nessa dieR
Before I go, I have to know;
                Your arms
       Did they ache to hold me?
(Just like mine did.)
       Why
           Couldn't you care more about
                         Me?
                    (As much as I did.)*
A friend of mine had said we were like passing clouds
We met and together unleashed          
     lightning
              Strikes
                  Smolders until the forest
                        Burns.

But unlike you ,
          I can't resist fire...
                                I'm afraid of it
 Aug 2016
Nessa dieR
I tried to shout with no mouth, no tongue, no throat.
but your ears were deafened by the sound of death,
silence.
I am nothing but beloved dust
You only listened to my steps as I left,
a hushed sound like the trees,
or the calling out of bells out no nowhere, from somewhere,
my distant grave.
*I am nothing but beloved dust.
 Aug 2016
Nessa dieR
I hope, my dear,
Every time you stare at your hands
You feel mine are **missing.
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