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You know what I like?

People who don't discuss people but rather when they open their mouths there's a different vibe.

The questions they ask make you feel alive as you decide

Like "Do animals commit suicide?"

"Would you die if it meant your beloved could live forever?"

"Let's say you did , what if they didn't want to live because y'all were no longer together?"

Then that's the waste of a wish, I like people who think of that kinda stuff.

I say the cup's half full, you say the cup is half empty, & they're like "how deep is the cup?"
Channel your energy.
When you are in pain, use that energy to write. Feel the flow from your frustration, your anger, your pain. Feel it move from your thoughts, to your fingers, and watch it appear as letters, as words, as poetry, as art.

I write best when I am in pain.
My mind is screaming but the words are pouring out.
The blank page is my canvas. I fill it with my pain.
I add colour. I add red.
Or, if I am sad,
I add blue.
love is messy
it is not perfect. it is a rollercoaster; a ******* wild ride.

it goes up, up, up and then when you think it can't get any better, it crashes and tumbles and suddenly you're left at 3am crying intertwined between tear stained pillows and crumpled empty bed sheets.

it goes down, down, down and then one hug makes you realise that home is his arms and that hearing his heartbeat is like hearing your favourite song and that a kiss planted on your forehead makes you feel as if heaven truly exists.

don't expect it to be even. don't expect it to be monotone.
it is anything but that. if you want a true love, it will be a wild love.
i sometimes feel as if growing older
has done me more harm than good.

it killed my innocence
my naiveness
my purity
my ability to not think.

but mostly it killed the way my brain could make colours
and the way i saw love
and the way i saw life.
Words being whispered are often far more powerful than words being said.
i like poetry because i can
transform mere words into art
and add eyeblinding colour to dull text
to remind others that they are not alone
and that feelings are feelings
and you are allowed to feel
and that even though the world is big
you are not in any way, small.
As a writer
I just want my words to reach out
With nimble hands
And play
the bright strings of light that connect us
Like a harp
To send vibrations through the world
Along these passage ways
And maybe stumble along
Finding the red strings to peoples hearts
And pluck at them lightly
Sending out notes
A bit deeper than before
In hopes of reminding them
How important it is
To feel something .
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