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It's seems like I've held you for 100 years

I've bred your fear
And multiplied you in the ways that you couldn’t.


It seems like I've left you
Your sweet, sad eyes always held more than just your innocence.
I've molded you
As a crutch would,
Determined you to speak
but you wouldn't.
i thought i could guide you through my motions
But you were never fully there
Your rhythm was flat
you could never speak out of your imaginary line


You've never had my electric everything and I can’t stay so humble

anymore
 Oct 2017 Nevena Todorovic
Raven
read this slowly
in the intent to feel as though
your big toe stands on top of the highest peak
and attempt to spin
sweeping the air
and you are allowed to smile as wide as the sky above
and you may grasp the blades that make your shoulders
feeling safe,
you might feel alone.
Seated with no windows
Effort to keep me structured
Surrounded by children,
None have slept for weeks
Hobble, slow dragging motions
No purpose at all
No speaking, no trying
Lay my humble head down
Attempt to slip away
Refuge in mental haven
Ignore the suffering here

Seated with no windows
Retain their control over me
Packed in tight with strangers
None of whom have peace
Seem unable to move, so weak
No meaning in their eyes
No sounds, no hands
Put my burdened load to rest
Desperately try to get far away
Hide away in nonexistent dream
Pay no mind to all the pain
 Oct 2017 Nevena Todorovic
Hayley
If I were you,
I would love to hate myself
You are so beautiful and don't even realize it.
 Oct 2017 Nevena Todorovic
hn
let the river flow
drowning emotions
draining mistakes
burying uncertainties

let the love flow
carrying potions
from wastelands

emptying the Nile
down into the M
erasing its misery
maroon tinted soil
beautifies for a mile
 Oct 2017 Nevena Todorovic
hn
deep
 Oct 2017 Nevena Todorovic
hn
do you know how deep
how deep
deep
deep
this love was for me

do you know there's no sleep
no sleep
sleep
sleep
while you comfortably dream of me
what can i do to my mediterranean
blood to tame it for you
how can i tie up my thousand years
and strain it like you want me to.
why won't you let me bleed of
my ancestors
your gold is still too bright for me
and i need silver in my hands again

your thinness makes me feel
that you're not made of
leather,
that your hands are too soft,
that you can't understand the mud
and the ocean at your feet


your body was not made for mine.
you are 900 years behind my body,
and i'm not sure i can be your guide.

(your faint moon makes me want to
cry)
 Oct 2017 Nevena Todorovic
anon
be
 Oct 2017 Nevena Todorovic
anon
be
there are so many
letters
words
phrases
i want to write all over
my skin
so that maybe
just maybe
the bits of me
inside
might come outside
and show that i
in fact
am not a shell
not
just a body
with so much lost
and so little left
to lose

the thing is
we're all bodies
going through a day to day
like there's never anything wrong
like there's never been anything wrong
like there's never going to be anything wrong

but there's something wrong
with pretending
because it hides
the truth
from even yourself
you think you know everything
until it's early in the morning
late in the night
and you're screaming
crying
who am i
to no one
because no one is always there
and no one always listens
because no one cares

and we tattoo ourselves
with
letters
words
phrases
that mean something
so that when someone passes by
they just might see
who
instead of just a body
just a life
that can never be as complicated
as our own
because nothing is as good
as our own

our own
letters

our own
words

our own
phrases

that at least make us
some semblance
of own
some picture
of self
some symbol
of who

we are like nothing
until proven something
we are guilty as one of many
until innocent as individual

i want my name to adorn my forehead
so i can scream
i am here

i want your name on my lips
to whisper
i love you
like it's the one thing
you can always believe

i want alone pasted to my hands
as though
anyone can see
all the hands i've never held
and will never hold
and the holding i'll never get to do
by being
so
****
alone

i want a's grafted into my chest
because
once upon a time
i was told they define me
so if i ever
get ripped apart
they'll see
my worth
as a grade
90-100
a
a minus
a plus
a bit of self-worth
assurance i am worth it
approval of who

i want praise shaped into the thinning skin of my stretch marks
because
there should be
no reason
to give a ****
about the carefully placed
skin caterpillars
after all
as soon as they become butterflies
everybody loves
once more

i want feelings plastered on my legs
because i'd love for what
i hate
to be covered
in someone's love
even if only no one cares

i want to be covered
crown to toe
with visions of me
to make
self
and individual
out of
no one
the only one
who cares
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