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  Mar 2016 m i a
Alias
I don't think I understand
the concept of friends
the concept of loved ones
the face you can talk to in hard times
the place you can call home
the home which lies in a person

I don't think I understand
what it is to have a home
because whenever I find it
whenever my heart starts to heal

I always seem to run away
  Mar 2016 m i a
Sad Girl
She's a beautiful being
much like a flower,
from which I could learn,
examining for hours.
I admire her smell
and how she speaks of me,
the knowledge she carries
makes one feel less lonely.

From her crown to her toes
she is lovely and free,
a companion that was placed here
for irrational me.

She speaks like the wind
knowing I am delicate,
drops petal-like compliments
that I consider reverant.
She seems like a sea
in which I could drown,
a pure contribution
on this heavenless mound.

I know her as I know myself;
or any book from any shelf.
Open it up and read just a sliver,
ask your questions-
she'll surely deliver.

She knows when to play and when to relax,
she understands my being-
reads through the cracks.
She understands the importance
of an honest, open heart.
She shares my love of music
and creates striking art.

At times she makes me feel
as though I am the advisor,
but I have read a few pages
from her and feel wiser.

I've never quite finished
any book that I've read,
so I'll put the books down and
read into her instead.
~*kd
  Mar 2016 m i a
wordvango
someone else's poem and it
knocks you offline for a while
all the thoughts you had wanted to say
a lot more precisely written
m i a Mar 2016
we were all just lost kids,
who had lids,
placed over our hearts by society,
we're constantly drowning in anxiety,
helplessly swimming around in the darkness trying to find sobriety.
//
  Mar 2016 m i a
Z
why call it love when it's friendship set on fire?
  Mar 2016 m i a
chris
:):
sad teens with happy faces
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