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a mcvicar Jul 2018
greek beers tasting fine
lazy, no good, too much eating
i am the guiltiest
10.7.18
a mcvicar Jul 2018
lipstick on my fingers
i hate my own decision
but i'm like whatever
9.7.18
a mcvicar Apr 2018
no time to sprout tulips.
our minds, interweaving with earth
have time to sprout grass
9.4.18  /  crippling fear of failure
a mcvicar Apr 2018
salty knees and toes
extend upwards, like its roots
touch the starry night
25.4.18
a mcvicar Jun 2018
leaves should fall in summer
the expectations of loved ones
have drowned so many
17.6.18
a mcvicar Jun 2018
timegoesbylikeablur
it'sdifficulttotellappart
theastronautandherb­lues
25.6.18
a mcvicar Jun 2018
i left behind my thoughts
inspiration flies on bed bugs
i fall to the ground
21.6.18
a mcvicar Jun 2018
a row of pink flowers
no visible thorns ***** as much as
a visible rose
26.6.18
a mcvicar Jun 2018
fur blanket in june;
conceal the need, the lust of fools,
the primrose and the *****
18.6.18
a mcvicar Jun 2018
sitting in my car
wonder if i'll ever stop
waiting for the future to come
24.6.18  /  when?
a mcvicar Jun 2018
coca-cola in heat
drowsiness kicks in, no serotonin
the MOTHERland of PILLS
23.6.18
a mcvicar Jun 2018
tragedy strikes
heat makes me feel exhausted
sink into the pavement
20.6.18
a mcvicar Jun 2018
a million degrees
why would Hephaestus ever
smite down Mother Nature
19.6.18
a mcvicar Apr 2018
call me superficial
when, once, you forced me this way.
self-worth ≠ what i wear.
14.4.18  /  girls don't have to be feminine. gender roles are stupid.
a mcvicar Apr 2018
roadkill milky curve
poignant, pointy pink berry
i'm drowning in honey
24.4.18  /  an abstract haiku
a mcvicar Jun 2018
i owe you NOTHING
even if you were relevant to me
you couldn't tie me to you
7.6.18  /  don't even try it
a mcvicar Jun 2018
another birthday cake
feet stuck to the club's oozy floor
legs entangled with legs
15.6.18
a mcvicar Jun 2018
she sits next to me
she seems fine but i doubt it
on the Underground
12.6.18
a mcvicar Jun 2018
"vicios" and vices
tightening around my tightrope head
i'm left with nothing new
11.6.18  /  vicios means bad habits in spanish
a mcvicar Jun 2018
i hide my shame
(a toxic way to deal with pain)
my wardrobe hides my drink
16.6.18
a mcvicar Jun 2018
tired body, resist
tiresome lung cancer persists
please survive, grandpa
8.6.18
a mcvicar Jun 2018
happy birthday to me
the cake tasted like dry gin
and the finest gingerbread
14.6.18
a mcvicar Jun 2018
i've missed the old me
but at the same time i never
want to go back again
13.6.18  /  hi
a mcvicar Jun 2018
sweet and salty cigs
the low-key rising of bile
please go back to sleep
10.6.18
a mcvicar Jun 2018
scarily, false alarm
he's fine and thriving once more
i'm easily scared
9.6.18
a mcvicar Apr 2018
perfect round number.
maybe i'll run around it
for months, to no end.
18.4.18
a mcvicar Apr 2018
you can't just expect
me to just be your doormat
and then kiss your feet
21.4.18
a mcvicar May 2018
oblivion waves back
heathens gather in the sand
basket cases make dunes
8.5.18
a mcvicar May 2018
back once more, dear home
i'm sorry i've been missing
for one, two, three... too long
16.5.18
a mcvicar May 2018
melodies unfold
je chante mais je n'ai pas une voix
she'll still sing along
13.5.18
a mcvicar May 2018
the world unlistens
and forgets trivial history lessons
when will we comprehend?
17.5.18
a mcvicar May 2018
rainstorm coming quick:
expose eardrums and *******
to the brittle wind
9.5.18  /  talking freely of stupid taboos, like female ******, is electrifying
a mcvicar May 2018
tide, ebbing away,
like the last straws i cling to
my willingness fades
15.5.18
a mcvicar May 2018
one month to prepare
for a new front and description
a new twin sister


(join us)
14.5.18  /  bit creepy but it's one month until my birthday
a mcvicar May 2018
all this coffee does
is enhance the pins in my brain
but at least i won't think
11.5.18 / ouch
a mcvicar May 2018
the oily endgame;
fish should breathe from air bubbles
not choke on them, like me
10.5.18
a mcvicar Apr 2018
("soft tunes, lullabies")
the aching feeling of doubt.
will i be able...?
11.4.18
a mcvicar Apr 2018
think i need a snooze
but my veins can't stop singing along
to the rhythm of the *****
20.4.18  /  unwind
a mcvicar Apr 2018
purple smoke rises
apathy's the murderer
ignore the victim scream
28.4.18
a mcvicar May 2018
long car rides smell like
tranquil waters and warm sand
(not if i'm the driver)
6.5.18  /  i wanna learn how to drive
a mcvicar May 2018
i'm hotter than hell
when i grab at my own hair and
shake my ***, ha ha ha
3.5.18
a mcvicar May 2018
hunter is hunted
i'm sorry, lost my essence
but i'm crawling back
2.5.18
a mcvicar Apr 2018
replacement of blues
jazz can definitely help
but i'm blueing, so shoo
29.4.18
a mcvicar May 2018
i'll come back someday
in the meantime i'll protest
(the old and the new)
5.5.18  /  going to a rally with my grandpa because retirement wages in spain are dismal
a mcvicar May 2018
greasy lipstick pizza
glamour, wine, dark red, lip blush
heart attacks on tumblr
4.5.18  /  dripping in finesse
a mcvicar May 2018
the most sick are so high;
what's the problem with letting someone
finally feel alive?
1.5.18
a mcvicar May 2018
coursing through my lungs
purple lights dancing in your eyes
let's dance all night long
30.4.18
a mcvicar Apr 2018
bitter tangerines
black ink on all my fingers
organised chaos
10.4.18  /  when in need for inspiration, write about your desk
a mcvicar Jun 2018
spectrum of identity
fearless whispers of rebellion
flowers rain down on us
2.6.18  / HAPPY PRIDE MONTH
a mcvicar May 2018
i'm ranting and squealing
the autopilot won't work
i hate all my words
20.5.18  /  i've ranted about this before. i'm sorry, i know it's unnecesary but i have to let it out.

so, i'm wiritng a book. it's a small one, 30 pages of my own poetry, and i've scraped it all again. i set myself a deadline, 11 days from now and i have nothing. i'm blank, again, and i hate everything i've written so far. i really don't want my brain's autopilot to write this book for me but i have to write something. it's meant to be a gift but... who knows? maybe the talent that everyone tells me i have is just water droplets on paper. i just spit out sometimes and people seem to like it... but what if people tell me  i'm good for the sake of a compliment but not in a critical way. 'cause you can't really say to someone, to their face, "hey, all your feelings on this piece of paper are written like ****. try again". *** am i supposed to do...


UPDATE: i have amazing friends and they've re-motivated me. dear god i love the werid bunch of people that have my back. thank you.
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