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vera Jan 2018
i look for inspiration
in the trees that shed a layer of skin
when the autumn light shines itself
upon them

i look for inspiration
in the sun's wave 'goodbye'
as an eventful day comes to
an end
and the moon's wave 'hello'
as an eventful night
begins

i look for inspiration
in my father's actions
towards the friends who stole his life
and the white men who arrested him
for speaking to his daughter in his native language
inside of a toy store

i look for inspiration
in my mother's heart
as she willingly places it
in the hands of every person who
is fortunate enough to meet her
whether they deserve it or not

i look for inspiration
in all of the beauty that surrounds me
at every direction

this is why i dont look for inspiration
in myself
i am the foul darkness that infects the golden light
everywhere it goes

so please, do not be surprised
that i can write about everything
except myself
and please, do your best
to understand my condition

that's all i can ask
- love, your dearest friend
vera Jan 2018
this poem is called: heartless
because it is filled with little heart felt phrases that people share with each other
while they make loving eyes at and pretend
to be in love

"your voice is music to my ears."
"looking at you makes my heart skip a beat."
"im unbelievably in love with you."
"you know me so well."
"lets spend the rest of our lives together."
"i feel so safe when im with you."

its all just fantasically cruel lies
- phrases that will never escape my lips
vera Jan 2018
i cant think of how to word anything anymore.
- i guess im just angry
vera Jan 2018
i have this image of God in my head
he's a  faceless man
with gold linen
draped over his body
light emanates from the gap where his head should be

i have this image of God in my head
he looks and sounds like a teacher
not the teacher who forgives your mistakes and helps you learn
but the one who kicks you out of their classroom
and calls you stupid
when you ask a question

i have this image of God in my head
he's pushing through a crowd of strangers who all have the same face
but i'm falling down a bottomless drain
and he's coming to save me
but he doesn't make it in time

i have this image of God in my head
and he's there, but he's not

i have this image of God in my head
or maybe i don't
and i have these secular images in my head
and i really see no God
vera Jan 2018
i would just like to say that you make me angry. when i think of your unoriginality and your entitled tone of speech, my blood boils. sometimes i think of how much happier i would be if i could leave your bland face behind and just start over. your face makes me want to pack up all my things and run to the edge of the planet.


possibly fall off !
vera Jan 2018
i remember it like it was yesterday, which i have to say is strange, because i have trouble remembering everything else. i remember you were sitting in front of me and i was terrified, palms sweating, eyes watering. i was truly scared if you, or rather of myself. a little part of me hated you too. you looked so, self-righteous sitting in your rolling chair, with you perfect posture and your clicky pen. when you started to ask me question i ignored you. id been shacked up in my head for so long i forgot how to talk to people. anyways, my head was comfortable, familiar. i had a bed full of memories and a closet full of monsters. i had drawers full of hopes (i never opened them of course), but they were there, it was nice to know they were there.

my favourite possession in my mind however, was a little glass jar on my nightstand. it looks empty at first glance, but the harder you look the more you see. there are colours, like rays of light, they swirl around and hit each other, a vibrant crimson color. theres a green in there to, if you saw it you'd swear mother nature put it there herself. theres also a blue, its the largest of all the swirls. it looks royal and dark, beautiful.

theres also a yellow. but its different, not in its beauty or vibrance, but in its location . it isn't in the jar. the yellow swirls around the edge of the glass. occasionally bumping into it  almost as if it wants in, but theres no way for it.

i remember holding back, never telling you that because i thought you'd think i was crazy. so i didn't say a thing. but man do i remember that jar. that room. i remember the colours, their saturation, how they moved. i remember the monsters beating on the closet door looking for a way out. i remember the bed of sweet memories. but im sorry, i don't remember more important thing, like how to feel. i truly am.
- a talk with my therapist
vera Jan 2018
i am feeling particularly emotionless today
void of any thoughts
other than those focused on my heart beat

i can still here it in my head
only when i am alone in that house
when it is dark outside
and the night is manipulative

every shadow is yours
but none of them are yours

every sound is your voice
but none of them are yours

i am feeling particularly emotionless today
void of any thoughts
other than those focused on your hands
- im sorry, emotions arent my "thing"
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