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 Mar 2018 S O P H I E
D
You entered. You sat
I felt my pulse rise.
Our eyes met.
I left my hands shake.
You smiled.
I left warm.
You enquired how was I.
I felt belonged.
You tapped your feet.
I felt my heart sway to your beat.
We sat there in time. Just on our seats
 Mar 2018 S O P H I E
DM
One night,
I ask the hollow angel,
just to hold my hand,
and I surely know,
they listen,
I hand over my hand,
with my palm open wide,
I believe
they grab my hand,
cause I feel so calm,
I feel so comfort,
then I lay down with smile,
I fall to sleep,
thank you,
Angel.
The Angels is here
I lay in my comfort zone because of them
 Mar 2018 S O P H I E
Tiana Marie
She was like music,
and I longed to dance.

Her heart was the beat,
and I begged for the chance.

Her words were the vocals,
and I was put in a trance.

Her smile was the melody,
and I fell in love at first glance.
 Mar 2018 S O P H I E
Ryan
Hard to understand
This existance somewhere
In someone else's world
Feelings of inadequacy
Fear of failing to meet expectations
Unfathomable anxiety
Purposefully stumbling upon
A strange presence hidden
In plain sight of the world
Unsure of how to feel
Mental processes shut down
Error messages flashing
Does not compute
Eject, disconnect, run away
Run to, run towards
Go find out for yourself
Is it too strange to contemplate?
To let two separate worlds collide
What's the worst that can happen
Besides complete destruction
I just don't want to let you down
I don't want to crumble
I don't want to be some joke
We all exist on different planes
Alternate dimensions
I want to tear them away
I want unity, a tangible timeline
Just let me piece it together,
Let me build something new
---
i.

i used to only write sad poems.

ii.

you see,
i am a cynic,
a cemetery,
a holocaust,
a chaotic, distant, lost girl
buried in her own
self-destruction.

but with you
i am different.

i want to wake up,
keep my promises,
make up for lost time,
spill blood and ink,
try again,
live

for you.

iii.

you walk me home
and the skies blush
pink cloud summers
mid-December.

we part and i marvel
at the sepia tint
of backyard roses
blurring my lenses.

you came in
like the missing palette color
i never knew
i needed
my skies painted with.

iv.

now, you are all the love poems
i didn't know i could write.

and every metaphor i create
is just a lengthier version of
'i love you'

i really do.
 Mar 2018 S O P H I E
reilly
I’ve been seeping constellations for you-
For you to see the colors within me
But i can see the milky way on my bathroom sink
And I’m bleeding all over the broken bottles you left last saturday
And on the empty pill bottles I was prescribed to forget you

When you kissed me last you told me I tasted like a stranger
Even though I’ve showed you every galaxy I hide inside me
All my stars and the spaces in between them
You used to tell me you could see the sky in my eyes
But last time I heard you haven’t checked the weather in months

The stars are sleeping in my veins now,
I started saving them from my bedroom floor
But i can still feel you on my fingertips
I still think of you every time I look at the sky

I’ve been kissing strangers to forget the taste of your lips
But i feel you in the back of my throat every time I smile
I feel you in my voice when someone asks me about my plans for the future
Because my entire life I was told one day I will find my better half
And you always told me you were mine
But who are you to tell me I need someone else to feel whole?
 Feb 2018 S O P H I E
Duck
If I could reach up, tear open the sky
and bring you down
I would,
because I miss you.

If I could build a ladder so **** high
to pay you a visit
I would,
Because I miss you.

If I could flap my arms, fly into the night,
and take you under my wing
I would,
Because I miss you.

If I could go; take to the streets, commission everybody that I meet to build the largest ever human pyramid from the bottom of the earth right to the lid and grab you by the cheeks and squeeze your face and remind myself of how your lips taste
I would,
Cos you know what? I miss you.

If I could stick a message in a bottle and shoot it in the air
And leave you a note to show I still care
I would.
And in it I would write
'I miss you'.
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 Oct 2017 S O P H I E
bess
You called her beautiful, but that’s not what she was.

She was fire and flood. her words pounded against the sand like waves.

Her hands created art from pain, each stroke a painful stitch.

Her thoughts were flames from a wildfire, taking the world by smoke and ash.

She was not beautiful, and anyone who called her that felt her wrath.
To be edited :)
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