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Meg R Sep 2016
We seek beauty in others.
Trying to capture moments of strangers.
Fragments to remind us that we're not so ugly inside
Or maybe it's the bitter truth..
The truth that we are so hideous to ourselves
That we desperately search for solace,
Solace in knowing that we aren't the only ones
Meg R Oct 2014
Lines.
Bound into shapes.
Morphed into letters,
mixed and matched
to form
relevance.

Let them plant their seed
Give these trapped lines meaning
Let your mind be consumed by these shapes
Let them matter.
Meg R Mar 2014
Two weeks
That’s all it was.
That’s all it ever will be.
My cerebrum became filled,
With your chicken hair,
And your dimpled smile.

Two weeks
Of the sun rising.
Of the darkness taking over.
Pondering the subconscious.
Picking apart each other’s thoughts.

Two weeks
Filled with smiles,
Leaving laugh lines on our young skin.
Kisses until our eyes became tired,
Causing my nerves to short circuit

Two weeks
Was all that fate would give.
To spill our secrets.
To let our paths finally cross.
Until the divide quickly came upon us.

Two weeks
Where the past didn’t matter.
Where the future became unclear.
Your beautiful mind,
Giving sight to my own.

Two weeks
Where our demons started to lose their battle.
War cries slowly silencing.
Fourteen days,
Of peace.

Two weeks**
That’s all it took,
For you to leave your mark,
And then you disappeared.
Meg R Dec 2013
I see stars in your eyes
Planets on your lips
Will you provide me with infinity?
Show me a blinding super nova?
Or will you just trap me in your orbit.
Meg R Nov 2013
I’m an unemotional mess. Just call me a paradox
I am surrounded by seas of nothingness
Comforted by the lack of a beating heart.
I am chaos; I am a calamity.

Just a mass of unsure existence
Engulfed by a cloud of grey.
There is no black and white for me,
Just a horizon of unequivocal bleakness.

The emotions within me stir nothing,
Unlike those that surround me.
It seems their hearts beat in unison
While mine remains silent.

My heart feels like oblivion.
I hear its silence over the snare of beating hearts.
What will happen when they become louder than my own?
I’m a mess. An utter disaster.

— The End —