jul 5d
i want to be able to write with such feeling
as if it was the last thing you'd read.
and so that it is truly heart-wrenching
that you remember me by the words i've spoke and written,
not by the shape of my body.
jul May 18
Death is the dictator that dominates my mind.
It slowly damages and demoralizes it until it's nothing but deteriorated waste.
It traumentizes and tapers my thoughts until
My existence is a memory erased.

It plagues me and preys on my fears.
It's the constant pitter patter of endless raindrops seeping through my soul
And which taps against the window that shields
The knowing that death skippers a ship out of my control.

It's the rumbling and roaring of a restless storm
That rattles and deranges my sanity.
It ravages the serenity and tranquility that i ignorantly live in
Until the realization forces me to live in agony.

The realization that it's nothing but an imagination
That inhabits and nibbles off the fear that i release.
It is not a human being that nestles in such intimacy
But a figure that is bound in a lease.

Death lingers in my presence
It's a demon that doesn't sleep
A haunting vision near my deathbed
Until I am the one counting sheep.
attempt at alliteration
jul May 16
i stand before you with my heart completely bare,
on my knees as if you were my prayer.
i stand before you with my heart completely bare,
but you stand blind to me, completely unaware.
you think that i am insane, hoping for things inessential
such as love and a relationship that i deem quintessential.
you ignore the words that hang in the air, the feelings within
but you continue to allow my fingers touch upon your skin.

you barely speak to me.
you barely hear when i speak to you.
its these feelings that made you think i was foolish,
so now its those i subdue.

are you ignorant or scared to believe,
that loving you makes it hard for me to breathe?
jul May 14
for nat

a dedication for me, how nice!
it confused me how such a person could dedicate their poems
to someone random, someone unknown.
it puzzled me really for i am no one but just a person who only
"writes to heal, just to feel, to be sure, that i am who i claim to be,"
like every other poet.
my style is who i am, it embodies my soul and my mind.
your style is who you are, it embodies your attitude, your feelings.
it is who we are really,
did you ever figure out who i am?

vive la différence!
connaître la différence
from a dedication, just two simple words,
and a purest dedication.

a purest dedication that ignites a smile bound to last,
just simply because of a poem that was never asked.
jul May 13
i am nothing but the weeping lion
who dreams of courage
to escape not only them,
but myself.
had this in my drafts thinking i should add more and left it alone for a couple weeks, but i looked at it again and thought i should post it
jul May 1
i'm scared to think about
the tiny flame in my heart that you lit;
that this little flame struggling to exist
will one day cease.

i'm scared to think about
the tiny flame in my heart that you lit;
that this flame will finally burn the wax that
sheltered my heart.

i am scared to think about
the aftermath of the death of our love.

would you gather my ashes and lay flowers beside them?
or
would you gather my ashes with apathy
for you have thrown them in the trash knowing that
in the candle of another woman's heart
began to burn?
jul Apr 30
i am afraid of when you first see me cry
that you will leave me to suffer alone.
i am afraid of when you look at me and
i wonder what you see.

do you see a smiling woman with nothing to hide or
a woman who hides by smiling?

tell me, the moment that you see the amount of pain i bottle,
would you try to hold me
or leave me to suffer alone?
i cant get my ideas together with this to be honest. i'll probably change it when im content with it. this was rushed.
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