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newpoetica Feb 8
on the dotted line, sign the lease;
it's a deal for your inner peace.
where you sell your soul for a sum
in a hope that they tell no one.
you pray that the paper doesn't sell,
the fact that you have a one way ticket to hell.
it's been a few years...
newpoetica Jul 2021
as the sun rises, a california poppy blooms...

awake, face-to-face, in a dream haze i  see you.
blue body, your body is blue.
still, i can see your body still.
waiting for the final release, we both broke free.
chains, chains that held us both onto each other.
there's nothing like a bond between daughter and mother.
when, when we found your body pale and blue.
prayed we did, in hopes that we would still get to see you.
pumping into lifeless veins, so little oxygen remained.
cold, still, and dead you were.
the only conclusion is that you were gone, it was what was left to concur.

i still see you, hear you, and breathe you.


as the sun rises, a california poppy blooms...

they remind me of you mom,
i can hear the petals rustle softly and know you're with me,
i can exchange oxygen with it, in hopes that it won't lose the battle of life this time around.
almost 2 years since her passing. r.i.p. c.a.d. 11/27/19.
newpoetica Jul 2021
I desperately want you.
Not in a ****** or constraining way,
But in a way that allows me to give all of myself onto you.
I want to please you and complete you as we go about this life day by day.
I want to wake up in your bed that you allowed me to call "ours".
I want to be the one you come home to after hard evenings and even harder decisions,  
Because you're doing the best for our family and future.
I want you desperately.
I want desperately to be yours and my life to be intertwined with yours.
hey hello poetry, it's been a minute :)
newpoetica Nov 2020
there's so much to do,
so much to see.
so much to view,
but where do i see me?
in all of this chaos,
where is safe and free?
in so much change and loss,
my faith in a happy fate is weary.
haven't written in a while.
newpoetica Jul 2020
every day i wait;
for the day i stop the hate,
the hating of myself.
newpoetica Jun 2020
three inches --
that's how far away you are from a corset that cinches.

so close, yet so far...
you aren't up to standards, you aren't up to par.

beauty is in the eye of the beholder --
hell, you'll be even more grotesque as you get older.

words cut deeply from those you care for...
i'm sorry that i can't be your perfect little *****.
sorry my poetry has been so negative lately.
newpoetica Jun 2020
what would it be like to let go?
to let myself get that low...
what would it be like to jump?
to let my demons have triumph...
what would it be like to fall?
to never wake up from it all...
what would it be like to die?
to let my soul fly...
what would it be like to cease?
to let myself rest in peace...
a contemplation on mortality. i am okay.
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