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My yellow nail polish is chipping off I'm an amalgamation of skin... Too irascible at times. Whatever feeling the burn on my finger holds, It's never for me to find. But my broken nails say otherwise. I've taught myself to be quiet but every other bubble has to burst right? Morbidly watching time pass me by. I feel older than I should be. Like my entire life flashed by me and it wasted itself in one of the new year fireworks. Milisecond lasting sparks. 16 years of them. Sparks that ignite fires sporadicly over the wrong beings. Ain't I a walking masterpiece? The pretty girl carrying fire in the pockets of her jeans. Spark up my existence if you could. Kick-start my delusion. Perhaps I'll be able to understand my own vision. Dreaming away life ahead of itself. I'm getting the hang of it. My writing stopped putting in the effort to make sense. Or was that me? I'm feeling hazy in another universe. Fading away rapidly. Running up and down my stairs I fear the day this house'll be empty. So I remain home in despair. I wish I could see myself clearly.
0
Jul 7, 2019
Jul 7, 2019 at 10:42 AM UTC
i painted my nails yellow
My yellow nail polish is chipping off I'm an amalgamation of skin... Too irascible at times. Whatever feeling the burn on my finger holds, It's never for me to find. But my broken nails say otherwise. I've taught myself to be quiet but every other bubble has to burst right? Morbidly watching time pass me by. I feel older than I should be. Like my entire life flashed by me and it wasted itself in one of the new year fireworks. Milisecond lasting sparks. 16 years of them. Sparks that ignite fires sporadicly over the wrong beings. Ain't I a walking masterpiece? The pretty girl carrying fire in the pockets of her jeans. Spark up my existence if you could. Kick-start my delusion. Perhaps I'll be able to understand my own vision. Dreaming away life ahead of itself. I'm getting the hang of it. My writing stopped putting in the effort to make sense. Or was that me? I'm feeling hazy in another universe. Fading away rapidly. Running up and down my stairs I fear the day this house'll be empty. So I remain home in despair. I wish I could see myself clearly.
if anyone reads this tell me if you've got any feeling from it, tell me if it kickstarted your synesthesia, tell me my words still make sense.
stranger_poetry
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Jul 7, 2019
Jul 7, 2019 at 10:42 AM UTC
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