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its hard to care when the world is up against you
its hard to care when you feel like you're drowning
and it's hard to care when water keeps pouring in
and you don't know how to swim.
i've forgotten what an outstretched hand feels like, and i've forgotten how to use my words. there's nothing left to say. when i think about reaching out for someones hand i'm tempted to pull back, as if it wouldn't have still been empty. as if someone would have actually cared.
do you know how it feels? to have your breath knocked out of your chest. to drive home, hands 10 and 2 on the wheel, tears allowing you to wash out the world for a quick instant.
and maybe that's the issue, right? we're all too silent before we're gone, that's why there was no hand. but is it really our fault?

my mouth and brain are no longer in conjunction with each other and speaking and not speaking is both difficult and easy
could you hold my hands for a second?
drown me out for a while.

-drowned

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going through my drafts to see what i want to publish & came across this. i felt like i remember writing this particular poem, straight up onto this forum, during an especially hard time in my life. i'm glad to say i'm hardly there anymore.
is it too much to ask
that i hold your soul
in the palms of my
shaking, nervous hands?

is it possible
to kiss someone & take their breath away
yet somehow breathe life into them?

you gave me an imperfect heaven
and i loved every second of
the flourishing fantasy
because you make me feel good
and warm
and wanted
so i ask that you let me do the same.

i wanted to get lost in your kiss
and feel the way love does
when she finally gets her way;
i wanted to *******
just to be a little closer
to what i could never have
you.

-the flourishing fantasy

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i am dizzy and watch the sun burn in hot pink fire
i watch the skies orange hues
spark rage onto the tips of the trees,
and there is some light
dimmed and green and ever-glowing
that I find myself drawn to;
a black and mossy demon, a shape-shifting lover.

when you approach this calmed heart
please hold it gently;
remember that i am here-
and when you fail to see the wind waltz through your bedroom window
know it still flows-
somewhere a world catches drift of your dreams
and you inspire thousands.

i see you in the swirls and patterns that engulf me
and i sense the desperation for confirmation but for now
i'm watching the clouds roll by like motion-picture movies;
and they tell my favorite stories

through this fire, i smile.

-through this fire

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when i love
i throw myself in flames

but i've learnt that
i don't need to

i can save that passion
i can save myself for someone
i choose

i am my own hero.

-realizing the hero

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how can someone be that powerful
to ******* steal your breath away
without warning, without physical harm;
no closure, other than your ******* ignorance-

how the **** could you do that?

-how

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she asks me why i keep looking behind
closed doors
and i don't want to say but
i keep looking for something unbruised
or a distant feeling that's been renewed
or i don't know

a past memory. maybe an old life.

she asks me why i keep looking behind
closed doors
and i struggle to say that i miss the past.
that everything i lost was really all i had and
i miss it. i miss them.
i miss every time someone made me genuinely smile

i miss the times where people bothered to try.

she asks me why i keep looking behind
closed doors
when i know there's nothing of substance
and i don't want to say that
i find out a new disappointing fact every time
i peak behind that door,
an outstanding opportunity to break my heart,
an old smile that feels like happiness when i tend
to revisit,
and a part of me believes my care could revive it.

that's why i keep checking behind closed doors.

that's why ill beat the door down, until i can see right through it.

-behind closed doors

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i can't help but be filled with poison
every time you strike me
because when you do its like
a thunderstorm has hit
and my delicate body was
decaying land
that couldn't possibly stand
the lightning.

-it keeps crashing

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