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lyka Feb 2018
I had a dream once of not so long ago
Of a girl standing still in the middle of the snow
White flakes covered every corner of my view
But I always found her like she was someone I knew

She seemed so familiar with her blood shot eyes
She looked like she'd been crying her entire life
Pale skin covered in wounds and lined by scars
Neon signs blindingly painful even from afar

My entire being desperately ached after her
Every cell screaming, "Don't let her suffer!"
I wanted to hold her, dry all her tears
Tell her there was nothing she should ever fear

But move I could not, not a single step
And words couldn't escape, not even my breath
I struggled hopelessly to be by her side
Thinking that if I didn't, she might have to die

Angry tears threatened, urging me to fight
But then she faded away, out of my sight
Suddenly I could move again but it was now too late
I wasn't able to save the girl from her terrible fate

I fall to the ground heaving, feeling an awful pain
It felt like lightning cursing through my veins
And then there was blood in my now pale complexion
Only then had I known, I was looking at my reflection
This was something I originally wrote during high school and posted years ago on another platform. I recently revised it, so now it feels like a collaboration between my 16 and 23 year old self. This is one of my favorites so thank you for reading :)
lyka Feb 2018
I make up
a lot of fantasies
about love
The best one
was the one called us
lyka Jan 2018
It seems I write best
when I am a little broken
The cracks allowing escape
of feelings unspoken
Getting by one poem at a time
lyka Jan 2018
Beginnings start at the end
And at 23,
there is still a lot of growing up to go
A few more stumbles
A lot more mistakes
Some tears
but hopefully less heartbreaks

So take it slow
and start where you are
Life is short
but the end is still far
Take risks and make memories
Don't waste any on empty worries

And live each day in all of its glory
Live as the heroine of your story
lyka Jan 2018
Wednesday mornings
are for 6am drives
while screaming along
to Beyonce

Friday nights
are for 4-cheese burgers
with extra large fries
AND a large coke

8am weekdays
are for dad jokes
and eye rolling puns

And Monday nights
are for senseless soul speak
and everything in between

Boring routines are built upon
spending and wasting time with people who make you forget the time
noun.
:the system of moving wheels inside something that makes its parts move
lyka Dec 2017
When the sadness no longer comes in waves you've kept ashore

but a building tsunami seconds from wiping away every city you've built

Sanity tells you to run to the mountains

to find help, find shelter

but you've already made up you're mind to drown before it even hits you

Because that is how you've survived for so long

by keeping your heart underwater and drowning out the sound of it breaking.
I tell her to swim while I drown myself
lyka Oct 2017
The phone rings in my hand
as I wipe away the tears.
She calls for no other reason
and the good daughter settles in to take control

It's about my brother of course,
he's in trouble; he needs me
I hold my voice steady and keep the broken parts at bay
I tell her okay. Not to worry and that I'll be on my way

She worries for him, repeats instructions a million times
It hurts me that she doesn't notice the little cracks in my voice
The quiet pauses in between the yes's and okays

I try not to be selfish
Be the daughter she needs me to be Strong and unbroken
But as the patched up pieces barely hold on to each other
The child within me cries for her mother
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