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Shylah S Oct 2017
roses bleed
adorned upon gold leaves
thorns prickle on sheets
fine pinks turn gray
fall into soil
grows again bright pink
Shylah S Oct 2017
as the days go by
and the nights grow cold
I will call you mine
and never let you go
Shylah S Jul 2017
no, I'm not talking about the ones with big noses
or greasy hair

not the ones with bad breath
or round bellies

no, I just like them raw
a little broken, a little sad

the ones with scars
a story to tell

I sure know how to pick em' you might say
but I'd never give them up any day

a whole adventure in a person like the outdoors
one with canyons and mountains he would let me explore
only ugly guys give themselves all at once
no parts hidden, everything is exposed

vulnerability is thought to be a weakness but in reality it's bold

I like ugly guys.
So go out there and be real, often we hide because we fear getting hurt. But in that fear we miss out on the world, we miss out on living, and worst of all, love. So even if we may get bruised, get to the lowest of the low, you'll one day stumble upon something that embraces you as you are, something that cherishes your ugliness unconditionally, something that inspires you to be better, whether that be a passion, a person, or something as simple as a smile. Is it really worth hiding if you miss on the chance to experience that?

Edit: I am very grateful to everyone who took the time to read my work and am in disbelief a piece of mine chosen as the daily pick for the very first time! This community is amazing :)
Shylah S Feb 2017
It's hard to write a sad poem
my heart wants to fly
scream words of passion and love
not cries of sadness and pain

lost my touch as a poet
forgotten what's made me angry
I don't need to fret
sparks can be sweet

see the only thing
a poet knows better than saddness
is the longings and whispers
of the tragedy we call love
Shylah S Feb 2017
I'm convinced they're made of something not of this world
a base of molten gold
swirled with chocolate caramel and speckles of silvery glitter
a dash of fresh honey
a depth only I can see
let me stare into them for the rest of eternity
Shylah S Jan 2017
feel it beneath my eyelids when I sleep
a reminder of the days past and ones yet to come
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