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 Jul 2015 Reagan Kulka
AJ
11-18-14
 Jul 2015 Reagan Kulka
AJ
I was always told to not fall for the broken boy, but look where I am again. I've fallen for yet another piece of broken glass and I'll end up bleeding, getting cut up on his pieces, but there isn't a way for me to stay away.

most girls always have something simple and silly they're attracted to in a guy. their last names all start with S, they all have green eyes, brown hair. while I'm attracted to shattered. broken. lost.

maybe it seems like we both could put each other back together, but it's not that easy. this isn't a John Green book, a tumblr post, we both can't hug each other tight enough that our pieces will stick back together.

because guess what? they're sharp. and we're gonna get hurt.
this is a journal entry, not a poem, but I actually really like it.
 Oct 2014 Reagan Kulka
Untitled
They thought she was a beauty queen
With a beautiful face
She was a pretty thing
But her heart was cold as space
With a glare that left a mark and sting
Her soul is a dark and empty place
I listen to the moon as it cries out the only existence of light it can give to the darkened world under it,  
I wonder if it feels like no matter how full or big and bright it can get,
That it will never hold as much potential as the sun.
It sees how no one depends moon light for major solar power,
only the suns bright burning rays,
The sun outdoes all that the moon can give.
The moon stands as those individuals who can feel better when they can open their curtains to the window and see darkness and feel comfort,
The moon is the shy person who stays in the shadows because that where they are used to being,
in the dark,
The moon is the people that wish more people who come out and enjoy the starry night rather than the bright sunny day.
I often wondered why i found the moon so comforting and beautiful.
Until it hit me that the moon is me.
Feeling never good enough really ***** when others constantly outshine you.
 Sep 2014 Reagan Kulka
SAM
Nostalgia
 Sep 2014 Reagan Kulka
SAM
She was a dancer
And I a writer  
Born of the same day
But different hours
Barely friends
But almost lovers
Destined to be connected
But never together
For I am winter
And she is summer
 Sep 2014 Reagan Kulka
sanctuary
10w
 Sep 2014 Reagan Kulka
sanctuary
10w
Why live this life?
'It was all I was given'
I don't know.
I am homesick
For a place
I have not yet found.
All at once

I guess I really am quite good
At multitasking
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