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Jan 30 · 203
How Do Poets Write
Natasha Jan 30
How do poets write?
They are not afraid to feel.
They are not afraid of sadness.
They are not afraid of the void.
Jan 30 · 124
Natasha Jan 30
my lungs
is filled with thorns
those you planted deep in me
and they ****
whenever i breathe in

my eyes
they long for
the genuine felicity
of your murdering gaze

my skin
it burned
for every stroke that was made
by your fingers of matches

my lips
as truthful as yours are
and how would lips tell lies
when they conflate?
i could taste your poison
sharp as a blade,
torturing my inmost being

my ears
not for a second they forget
the shivering sound of your whisper
telling me its just a brief of a time
and that you're coming home
before long.

so here my soul awaits
for a presence that never comes
for a home i unable to fathom
then the world became a witness
of me and my foolishness

and still, my dear,
i would keep waiting
with the little remaining glimmer
left in me--
you breathe, you see, you feel, you taste, you hear.
(posting another writing after a long time, hope this one turns out great. mind checking my other poems on my profile? :) )
Nov 2018 · 2.3k
Natasha Nov 2018
A butterfly broke its wings
from fleeing through the jungle of rage
then you came along
to gently kiss the cracks
rip a part of your skin
and sew the wings with it

Thank you,
for the butterfly has now witnessed
something more beautiful
than all the flowers it had ever laid on
i 'broke my wings' and it beautifully led me to witness an exquisitely beautiful form of love.
Oct 2018 · 126
Natasha Oct 2018
Deep inside here, it's so hollow
I'm just an old abandoned house
cold and murky
filled with nothing
but dust and cobwebs.

And as time passes
these cobwebs grow wild
they fill my chest up
blocking me to breathe,
eating me alive.
Jul 2018 · 10.7k
A Tale to A Little Bird
Natasha Jul 2018
Little bird, we're here
I'll sing to you a tale
about me and this mighty golden called the sun

He poured endless light to my eternal darkness
and helped me grow flowers
to create this garden of love
where you would chant and fly around

Little bird, the sun hushed my bitterness
he shines through my tears
and we create a rainbow
as he said cursed is the life
but sweet it is for certain.
Jul 2018 · 171
Why would you?
Natasha Jul 2018
Our scream is a song
to every petals in our hearts
we try so hard to keep
but they keep on drying

it's only me
and you, and the darkness we dance in
then we cry it out to the earth,
"why would you?"
Jul 2018 · 786
Natasha Jul 2018
The moon shining its spark
upon warm tongues
of ******, joy and agony

the drought is out there,
but it's raining here

****** between thighs
creaking the car seat
the exquisite lust.

whisper to me
don't cease, just keep the lunge
til I hang no more
my first ever poem here. Hello, poetry! :)

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