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Nica A Oct 4
a guest inside a head,
welcomed a stranger to bring it danger
a reflection easily spotted
revealed not only a heart that's haunted
a soul trapped inside the head
would love to stay, laying in bed
buried underneath the earth
trapped and summoned the dead,
to come back
among problems did it lack
the antidote to cure,
no signs of how much it had endured
soul felt trapped, heart was under attack
Give it a map, it'll soar and come back
hopeless not quite
Give it business, give it work
happy sun
begins to rot
Limited freedom hinders its growth
give it space, give it time
lonely moon
drowns in an overwhelming typhoon.
agnes Jul 19
why do I write when I’m sad?
how do I express emotions when they aren’t bad?
I’ve got my mind turned off and my ghost is asleep
I replaced him with my soul and traded love for spontaneity
a disembodied existence
incorporeity

value connection and protection
but never hold your words
they escape the weak grip of your promises like hummingbirds
premises of sobriety and vandalizing the heart of your lover
games and rules we never follow
declare yourself the oracle of Apollo

villains of the world and ink in your skin
tell ourselves we practice deadly sin
reflection in the mirror and that wicked look you carry
they know you’re not here to Hail Mary

abuse with no release
I feel sorry for them and you’re not a masterpiece
prove it with marks on my neck
show you the bruise on my thigh
I’ve finally escaped your high
agnes Jul 15
lighting is dim but defined with a flash
her fingers reach to put her bra into place
she bought it a week ago and it’s all lined with lace
she fluffs up her hair with a strand behind her ear
she remembers when this moment brought her fear

it’s 11:00pm and the bra will stay on until 11:05pm
her makeup is long wear and it starts to hurt her eyes
but she knows her eyeliner will paralyze glamorize and hypnotize
duty
obligation or free will?

her body sheds the last piece of clothing
she knows now’s the time to start moaning
they won’t notice how forced it feels
she’s already got them head over heels
their mind stops working or at least that’s what they say
what’s more important than their lust?
project your important with every ******

she’s a product of their imagination
she’s an object
or at least that’s what they make it seem
she’s to do whatever they dream

***** talk, slow blinking and a kiss
soft caresses or hard slaps
soon they’ll line her arms with straps
tied tied tied
or free free free
what’s control and where does it end?
was this ever a way to mend?

I’m *** *** *** *** ***
is my worth portrayed in the pleasure?
is there any other way to measure?
how should I view myself
if all other people see is themself

empower
support but never consider
all the ways in which you hurt her
don’t come around and don’t touch me there
don’t rip apart my underwear

I still touch and I still come around
I’m your personal little playground
starsnwaves Jul 12
coexistence: intr.v. to live in peace with another or others despite differences, especially as a matter of policy.

she had a bumper sticker on the back of her car
with the word
made up of differences
that at the time seemed impossible
to be able to live in the
same world
that car was my childhood
even though i never really took
the time to think
about interwoven
ideas until now
when it feels like
values are being torn in half
with a line down the middle
separating
good from good from bad from bad
in greyscale

coexistence seems possible in many things. but as much as i want it to be, i don't think this is one of those things.

and i'm not ready to lose friends over this when i'm not even sure what i believe.
hi you should like this bc in response to reading it a very cute boy said "wow that's good". so yeah :)
starsnwaves Jul 12
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it hurts when you realize
that you aren't a necessity
to someone
that they don't need you
in their life
by their side
to survive
seeing someone that is that part
chameleon
is less horrifying
and more of a let down
because even if you're not there
they'll be fine
because they're your necessity
and you'll scramble around
until you find them
or someone even
on the farthest edge of orbit to cling to
because your cham aches in past loneliness
that no matter how hard you try
is always at the back
of your mind
agnes Jul 11
she saw it on her clothes
the rips and tears the hanging threads
she saw it on her body
the skin and marks imbedded in her cells
when her life is pointless and she draws parallels
between highs and the percentage of the bottle in her hand
but she’s a coward and it all tastes the same
instead of this she’ll be seated on a witness stand
let the rage begin let your thoughts pour out
but never mind because no one is here and you’re pathetic
there’s no point, stop thrashing around!
the sky is empty and you’re the devil
sit back and watch the angels who leave you
they will revel

she will call out and hope for a single word for that’s more than she’s heard
in the last days weeks or eternity
paint your **** eyes with burgundy

she sees her mirror but not herself
a ghost or silhouette or someone posing to appear attractive
everything is retroactive
her legs are torn her arms are worn
she’s easy and she’s too nice
trust me you won’t need to tell her twice

she is pained
I saw that she cried after she came
she was alone in bed
she won’t get that image out of her head
she’s spiraling
I’m spiraling
her and I her and I
it all equals me
she’s fictive and it’s my disguise
I’m alone
anyone please talk me down
agnes Jul 3
there’s smoke in your lungs and under the kitchen fan
I protect my breathing with a clasp of my hand
you sit by yourself and the words you must’ve spoken were minimal
for I don’t have memories of you in my childhood
you push me out the door and I surrender to the couch
dad told me that he cried

you’re out in the garden and I think that’s nice
sometimes you even photograph butterflies
you hate cooking but you do it every once in a while
you told me dad always offered wine

I sit in a chair and remember your words
I look down at myself and I don’t see my worth
a beach in a foreign country or the swimming lessons at school
they’ll always force me to jump in the pool
I’ll cry as I write
I’ll stain every paper
who ever told you that you are the gatekeeper?

years and years and there’s still tears
but they may be drying down
and maybe one day I can look at you in the eye
you’re not evil
you’re insensitive
yet I could never question someone so authoritative
Finnick Jun 27
I stood there and watched you.

Your smile lit up the whole room,
I didn’t expect to fall so soon.
fray narte Jun 26
she is what
black holes look like
and in the deep space of her room,
she writes poems
made of meteorites
and sings to playlists
made of stars.
fray narte Jun 24
girls like her won’t break you — girls like her will make you weekly playlists, and write you poems as you sit together on museum floors, and watch your favorite movies, and introduce you to new songs, and steal your hoodie while you read your long-pending books, and drag you out of bed at 2 am’s to watch the stars fall to the earth, and kiss you, right there and then.



and then, they break you.
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