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 Sep 2017 ry
Poetria
Oh blue
 Sep 2017 ry
Poetria
I stand here waiting
for the stars to adopt me
waiting for the clouds
to engulf me
in their embrace- humid,
waiting for the ground
to crack wide with a smile,
tempting, crooked; cruel.

I will drink your falling tears,
please dry your eyes, blue
and do not burn me with your acid,
they aren't good to you, fools;
*but how do you breathe
their pollution?
Inspired by acid rain...
 Sep 2017 ry
avalon
maybe all i want is someone to make me feel real at night.
 Sep 2017 ry
Brianna
I gave you time- all the time in the world- and when i promised i would love you forever - it wasn't a lie-
However, the time has been passing, and each day I wait, I find a piece of my soul goes missing-
Life would have been everything we wanted it to be - but you couldn't get me a straight answer to save your life-

I gave you time- all the time in the world- and when I promised I would love you forever, well, you're turning me into a liar-
I went to close the door, I shoved all the evidence of you back into the closet and locked it air tight, hoping that if i left no oxygen in the room your memories would die-
However, the memories are trying to escape and reaching out to my friends is still the cowards way to go-

I gave you time- all the time in the world- and when I promised I would love you forever, well, I'm taking that back now-
You used me up, you disrespected me and made me the fool in my own kingdom when I should have been the queen-
However, I made it **** near impossible to reach me this time- I am locking up my heart- double knotting it to the docks so  it doesn't float right back your way again-

I gave you time.
I gave you all the time in the world.
When I promised I would love you forever- I didn't know the clock would stop working.
 Sep 2017 ry
avalon
the dark eyed girl holding the needle is confused. why
would anyone want her eyelids tattooed?
i get it, i do--but it's barely a bruise, barely
a sign that they've ever been used--
and yeah, it's new--it's even strange
it's even enough to think me deranged
but i'm almost done, almost out of pain
almost completed the list of flaws under
my name.
my name
my name my name
my flaws make a laundry list worthy of fame
and they all knock about behind walls behind name
and i can't get them out without playing the game
so i tattoo my flaws on my skin on my pain
desperate for saving of name and of fame
stretched, wretched, falling, lame
too many rhymes and i'll ruin the game
too many words and they're all the same,
too many people are calling my name,
and i
and i
and i
and i
drooping in places, veils on my eyes
is this a disguise? am i beyond lies?
with truths on my neck and my nape and my thighs?
look at the skies.

silence is riddled with death and with flies
look at her eyes.

when roses sip poisonous drinks
do they poison our minds?

do poisonous drinks tattoo their mistakes
on their eyes?
toddling the precipice of mess and masterpiece.
 Aug 2017 ry
avalon
I AM SO TIRED OF BEING TERRIFIED
 Aug 2017 ry
simo
boys or burdens
 Aug 2017 ry
simo
i broke my own heart just to see if it still works
it may be troubled but
its mostly torched
he said he'd burn his house down just to get me some warmth
he said he'd give me his heart
i asked "whats that worth?"

it all seems to have fallen again
i miss my home and i miss things ive never had
miss finding familiarity not so gut wrenchingly sad
how old do i have to get before i start to not feel so bad?

how long before my silence starts to feel less involuntary, before passion beats purpose
before i can love without excuses
before spiraling help a bit less
and when i agree before it depends

he said i love you so much but i cant deal with what youre going through
i said wow man, sorry i had to do that to you
next time you try to find something to hate me for
ill go head and let you ******* choose
when u dont know what write so u write about made up characters in ur head
 Aug 2017 ry
simo
ostentatious
 Aug 2017 ry
simo
im searching for some other side
some homeless home
where im gone
means less than letting go
more of getting home

is it so bad that my thoughts are showing outloud?
soft only seems safe in concept
im more cigarette ash,
vowed to still water but a silent ****,
more of a secrets embodiment
or just a body
the more i think of it.
the more i think it probably should've been me.

whats a guilty conscience if you're never even conscious?
darling i know it's my fault
but while i sit, silent, gaudy, ornate,
i feel it forming in my stomach
i'm sorry i've never home anymore
it's just been getting difficult to face anyone

i miss our silent talks
it hurts feeling so far gone

if i die do you think hell could be my home?
2018 better be good 2 me bc i need a break
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