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 Feb 2016 Imogen Grace
WickedHope
Burn
Dance
Tickle my skin
He laughs and says
*You're my favourite sin
Did I say you could ******* touch me, you *******?
I'd yell this, but I'm too scared to move.
the sun will
kiss the earth
each day
and soon
these dashing lines
of youth
hard charcoal, pen and ink
dancing, arousing
the parchment
shall also fade
portraits ought to
be lived
not
preserved
This began as an exercise in Architecture Design class. We each had to do a self portrait and design a space for ourselves for the rest of our life! One space! Very introspective n mind altering exercise!
Narcolepsy* hard and heavy watch me fall asleep
            Lulled to bed in a cunning thread of the tangled web we weave
    I dream in pristine colors, windows of my mind anew
No fingerprints or ***** looks or evidence of you

         I find comfort in forever wherever it may be
        I may have left my home but it will always stay with me
                 The smell of all the smoke with the sound of all the rain
   On constant playback every second deep within my brain

        I found that time is all that matters and everything else faded
        I spent years and years learning how to forget everything I hated
    I've only gotten older and have nothing left to show
              Except a ringing alarm clock and blood on my pillow

    
Narcolepsy** hard and heavy watch me as I sleep
     Another pill, another high, another date to keep
      If I shall die before I wake, I hope that I'm with you
    Then it won't matter where I go, cause you will see me through
 Feb 2016 Imogen Grace
MEM
Untitled
 Feb 2016 Imogen Grace
MEM
I miss being a kid
when words on a paper
was second nature,
And whenever I would rhyme
I could blow people's minds
But now I can't find the words
to pass the time,
Small talk.

Don't ask how the weather is.
It's great,
Because Mother Nature doesn't **** up,
unlike what you might think,
Louisiana,
California,
Thailand,
Natural Disaster.

That's what we want to claim to be,
But we're products of society,
culture,
and we root for to children to stop,
to grow up,
realize your dreams aren't what they seem,
Backup plans.

I never had any,
Now I don't have a go to,
because I was told I would go nowhere,
with paper and pen,
Poetry.

I miss being a kid.

— The End —