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Kiss me
with every breath
you're willing
to deprive yourself
of.
It's an addiction
Gradually the sun sets, no longer a hero to chase away the darkness of the world, only leaving it's shadow to illuminate the Earth as it slowly spins away from it's bright visage.

A cool breeze begins to blow, enveloping the world in a frigid breath, allowing the last lingering signs of day to fade into the stillness of the night.

I raise my head from my pillow and move towards the window, looking out into a midnight field, as if only to reminisce about the past.

A tiny child, betrothed to none other than promise, imagination, and potential.
A wayward girl, unknowing of her past or present, lost to dreams of a future untold.
A ruined teenager, lost to her father and mother, stripped of her true friends, known to all as no one.
A blank adult, unknown to all and shrouded in enigma and concern, yet somehow still a hypothesized complete and utter failure.


I think quietly to myself, and skim my dull eyes over the picturesque view outside of my window, choosing to focus on the moonlight's reflection in the grass rather than on the thoughts that still rebound in my head.

What was promised can not be unbroken
The ones I claim are my friends could care less about me
He had only done what he had because I was not good enough for him
I am only hurting like this because of the situations that I have created for my own torture and amusement.


I place my head back down onto my pillow, feeling it dampen against my cheek.

No matter how hard I may try, this cannot be undone.

The moon takes hold of the sky, rising to it's uppermost point as I quickly slip away into the recess of my own mind, wondering what will come next, and how I will combat it.

Wistful thinking and hopes for a sunnier day bid me to sleep, and the world around me begins to fade to black as I tell myself yet again the same phrase I have been repeating for over a month.

*Perhaps tomorrow, I will feel better. For now, I can wait.
The eyeless labourer in the night,
the selfless, shapeless seed I hold,
builds for its resurrection day---
silent and swift and deep from sight
foresees the unimagined light.

This is no child with a child's face;
this has no name to name it by;
yet you and I have known it well.
This is our hunter and our chase,
the third who lay in our embrace.

This is the strength that your arm knows,
the arc of flesh that is my breast,
the precise crystals of our eyes.
This is the blood's wild tree that grows
the intricate and folded rose.

This is the maker and the made;
this is the question and reply;
the blind head butting at the dark,
the blaze of light along the blade.
Oh hold me, for I am afraid.
  Nov 2014 Juilet Rymarowitz
love me
I write to free myself
from the demons inside me that entangle me in their monstrous webs
I write because the words listen
to all my problems big and small
I write to feel
the feelings i cannot put together in my own head
I write to dream*
of the person i hope to become
I write to forget
the memories of him that haunt me*
I write to remember
the memories of us that made me
I write for hope
*so that i may look forward to the next day
I like the type of boy
Who isn’t overly sure of himself
Who fakes his confidence
So he comes across bold and fearless
But secretly needs reassurance
Though he never asks for it
But he allows his nervousness
To show once in a while
I like the type of boy
Who holds onto things
Far too long
And can’t let go
Even when it has come time to
And even when he really wants to
I like the type of boy
Who isn’t afraid of emotion
And takes feelings like a man
Without treating them
Like something undesirable
I like the type of boy
Who would prefer to read
Rather than smoke ****
Who would choose to watch an old movie on a Saturday night
Over getting drunk at 2AM with a group of strangers
I like the type of boy
Who over thinks everything
I like the type of boy who gets jealous
‘cause it’s kind of cute
I like the type of boy who is passionate
Who has powerful emotions
Who never does anything halfway
Who means what he says
Who isn’t out spoken
But considers his words
And uses them well
Because he knows their value
I like the type of boy
Who yells when he is mad
Isn’t afraid to disagree with me
But is never unkind about it
Who is willing to listen
Who is willing to talk
I like the type of boy
Who will tell me I have a beautiful soul,
Not a beautiful face or body
I like the type of boy
Who calls me something deeper than pretty
Who doesn’t shower me in in meaningless compliments
But when he does
He means it
And he says something a little more original
Than calling me pretty
I like the type of boy
Who has a darker side
But doesn’t let it overpower him
Who can handle my darker side
But is one of the few people
Who can bring my out my brighter side
I like the type of boy
Who doesn’t mind when I act crazy
Who isn’t afraid to yell when he needs to let something out
And isn’t afraid to whisper either
I like the type of boy
Who messes up all the time, over and over again
Who has regrets
Who shows remorse
Who cares about stuff
And isn’t “too cool” to give a ****
I like the type of boy
Who uses proper grammar
Who is willing to tease me
And joke around with me
And make me laugh
I like the type of boy who isn’t afraid
To be afraid
I like the type of boy
Who likes the type of girl I am








…so basically the non-existent type of boy :P

Repost if you like the type of boy or girl that most usually wouldn't and comment, telling me the type of boy or girl you like.
Repost if you like the type of boy or girl that most usually wouldn't and comment, telling me the type of boy or girl you like.
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