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We spend a long time
searching for things that are meant
to fall in our laps.
A thought that I find helps with anxiety about the future
She came to me broken,
shattered like a priceless vase,
she was whitering away right before my eyes,
like a long lost puppy without a home,
she said she fell in love,
we found each other in darkness,
with our hands held out we found our way,
but little did I know that her love was rotting day after day,
even though when I found her I was also half dead,
I ripped myself apart to make her whole again,
I loved her more than love thought possible,
but it was never enough,
she threw me away,
cast aside where I belong,
a worthless love,
now I lay broken,
now I lay dead
 Jun 2018 Grace Spellman
Laura
loving someone
does not stop
at the pain
they caused you,
or the pain
you caused them.

it exists somewhere
deep within the mind
between suffering and forgiveness -
because forgiveness IS love,
and that sliver will always remain.
not a real poem by my standards just a piece i've been resting on for a while now

I always have love for the people who were there for me and taught me the lessons I need. I will always have love for anyone who's showed me some, and I will never hate anyone who's ever been themselves to me - those are the truest most soulful people.

I hope one day they see that, and get that I do have love for them, and could never hate them and all the parts of me I gave. I could never hate myself for the parts of me that they gave to me - can't hate myself for the person they helped raise in character, lesson, and love.
i’m made of sidewalk cracks and moments i should’ve taken
i’m made of broken rings and the wrong girls i put my trust in.
because i didn’t know what love was until i kissed a girl made of thorns
and i didn’t know what happiness was until fear started sleeping without locking the door.
i’m no where near what the world makes me out to be
what it expects from me
and maybe that’s okay.
i’m made of ****** coffee and the constant pressure of being something else
i'm made of holes in the foundation and girls that kiss me just to watch me melt.
because i didn't know what lust was until i touched skin made of broken glass
and i didn't know what hope was until i fell a little too fast.
my story ends before it even starts
because forever is only real if you look like art
but i look like broken promises in an empty hallway
and maybe that's okay.
and strange what desire will make foolish people do
 May 2018 Grace Spellman
Natasha
I could never tell you
exactly what's going on inside my head,
so I'll write instead.
Drown my thoughts in paper & lead.
Keep my hands alive,
and my expression dead.
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