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Stephanie Dec 2018
i almost want to laugh at how much i wanted you
sleepless nights. countless.
wondering if I was even a thought on your mind.
if ever the possibility of us fluttered with one beat.
544 days
even if it was for a split second, in a prayer or a curse
you were there. marring everything that i'd built

it's funny. He always gives us what we need.
all i needed was something to sully this fabricated sustenance that i wanted so badly to believe in
here it is.
Stephanie Aug 2018
Thought I was on the up
But here I am in the deepest abyss my heart has yet to see
Although fairly familiar
Where light is needed to relieve from this torture
This disconnect
from the outside world & everything that is good & delightful
Feels eons away

The turn birthed when you came back
I thought you’d never leave, but thank God my heart fails to gambol at the thought of you - finally
Maybe time does heal some wounds

+crowned saint
Stephanie Jul 2018
Thank God for breath
Brush teeth
Think of you.
Take vitamins
Pray again
Think of you.
Practice French
Current events
Think of you.
E or J
Hello poetry
Think of you.
You color the banal
therefore, I
Think of you.

+crowned saint
  Jul 2018 Stephanie
Ashari Ty
Once I was too afraid to
let go
of the things and the

that I loved and cared

Too afraid to set free
Or be free from my ego

I was not ready to be
reminded that all things
come to an


But fear not because the
greatest feeling
is to learn that

Sunset is as good as Sunrise
..but the end is just as good as the beginning.

Limits will prep u to be free ;>
Stephanie Jul 2018
A simple stroke stemming from a heart-planted seed
Ice white and sky blue freezing every generated thought to one with its chills
Intertwining shades of brown fuchsia splattered to a black space - manifesting into dreams
Blue, yellow, and purple churning with hydrochloric acid forming butterflies
Pulse shooting through into the darkened mesosphere darkening fuchsia's mark
Darkened fuchsia turned deep red lustful passion
An unfathomable crescendo beading sweat with final strikes
Reaching the thermosphere - revealing an exclusive sight of our aurora
It hangs in the gallery "Of Our True Selves"
The finish product is almost disappointing

+ crowned saint
*circa 2015
stumbled upon this poem the other day
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