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 Aug 2020 Emily Sliver
Emily
Inked
 Aug 2020 Emily Sliver
Emily
Thinking about getting a tattoo
But, I take pause...
Looking in the mirror
I see my body’s already covered
Marked in invisible ink
Every inch of my bare skin
Painted with the joy and pain of living
From my heart to my hips
Color faded here, but poppin’ over there
Memories designed by your hands
Others etched on my own
A collection that makes me smile
Among a few pieces I regret
So, about getting a tattoo...
I guess I’m not ready
Because I can’t think of a tattoo
Meaningful enough, yet
To write over any of the life I’ve lived
 Aug 2020 Emily Sliver
stopdoopy
I'm making love to myself.

In ways you never could,
Never would,
And bringing pleasure.

I haven't hit the peak yet,
But you never got me there either;

And at least this way
I'm going somewhere.
yeet
 Aug 2020 Emily Sliver
Bree
Addicted
 Aug 2020 Emily Sliver
Bree
I’m addicted to the feel of cold metal sliding across bare flesh
Addicted to the instant
when nothing marks smooth skin
immediately before
red rivers rapidly rise
painting a once white canvas
with a flood of emotion,
tears on my cheeks,
sobs caught in my throat,
numbness replaced by pain & sadness.
Addicted to the imperfection
of red welts and dotted scabs that follow,
fingers drawn like magnets
to the texture of healing skin,
tracing over and over and over now fading ridges
Amazed that I am strong enough
to heal myself over and over and over.
Convincing myself that I am strong enough.
I find strength in my weakness.
6 months self harm free! Writing about it helps fight the urge
Thinking about you
 And those words
   It burns like fire
    Thinking of all the ways
You never loved me
 Aug 2020 Emily Sliver
Rupert Pip
You catch life
one tear at a time
to one day
fill an ocean.
I heard you liked short poems, so here's one for you.
 Aug 2020 Emily Sliver
amanda
i looked down
twenty three stories

tears in my eyes
legs shaking

every intention
of falling head first

you see— i was just so tired
of having to land
on my feet
so many people
are so tired
of having to be so strong
I'm angry
can you see it
A storm
like a tornado
leaving destruction
in its wake
I try to force a tear
but there is nothing left
my heart turned to stone
I'm angry
can you see?
There's nothing else
nothing less
nothing more
all such a mess
I'm angry
can you see?
Can you live through the delusion
                                        thus using your illusion?
Inspired by an excerpt from Robert McKee's Story:

"The hard-to-believe truth is that what we see on the big screen each year is a reasonable reflection of the best writing of the last few years.

Many screenwriters, however, cannot face this downtown fact and live in the exurbs of illusion, convinced that Hollywood is blind to their talent. With rare exceptions, unrecognized genius is a myth. First-rate screenplays are at least optioned if not made. For writers who can tell a quality story, it's a sellers market - always has been, always will be."

Listening to November Rain by Guns & Roses and Crossroads echoes in the foreground

Published at El Caballo Blanco Restaurant & Bar
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