Her dark coffee-roasted eyes opened into a world that vessels magnificence, it wasn’t the other humans that created on her an impact of difference. She grew up to love the wind, seas and butterflies, she caught the moonbeams when she closed her eyes. She isolated herself from the ones that commanded words to be spoken, no one listened, and without a single word she left the locks broken. What she felt with the intensity of solitude, filled her with meanings that multiplied in magnitude. How could she explain the pure lightning in her veins, she wore a pendant of the world map on her chains. She was made to do incredible things you can tell, surviving within four walls was never her place to dwell. Things weren’t handed to her and that’s what made her wonderful, street by street she discovered what it meant to be powerful.

Mocking her tattoos, “art belongs on the wall”:
the ones she built around was her masterpiece and never let them fall. In the end its the things that kill you that make you feel alive, sitting on the edge of earth on a swing, she lived until 1hundred and five. Time taught the darling, of things that were loved bitter and sour, she travelled through the countries and living by the hour.

She wore a wing on her wrist, to her acquaintances she didn’t exist. She loved cities that made her feel like home, even on the bad days they embraced her and she never felt alone. Her lust for travel was deeply-chained, friending soils that didn’t constrain. She passed through it all like a ship in its form; Beautifully broken, this is how the sky felt after a storm.

Her dark coffee-roasted eyes opened into a world that vessels magnificence, it wasn’t the other humans that created on her an impact of difference. She grew up to love the wind, seas and butterflies, she caught the moonbeams when she closed her eyes. She isolated herself from the ones that commanded words to be spoken, no one listened, and without a single word she left the locks broken. What she felt with the intensity of solitude, filled her with meanings that multiplied in magnitude. How could she explain the pure lightning in her veins, she wore a pendant of the world map on her chains. She was made to do incredible things you can tell, surviving within four walls was never her place to dwell. Things weren’t handed to her and that’s what made her wonderful, street by street she discovered what it meant to be powerful.

Mocking her tattoos, “art belongs on the wall”:
the ones she built around was her masterpiece and never let them fall. In the end its the things that kill you that make you feel alive, sitting on the edge of earth on a swing, she lived until 1hundred and five. Time taught the darling, of things that were loved bitter and sour, she travelled through the countries and living by the hour.

She wore a wing on her wrist, to her acquaintances she didn’t exist. She loved cities that made her feel like home, even on the bad days they embraced her and she never felt alone. Her lust for travel was deeply-chained, friending soils that didn’t constrain. She passed through it all like a ship in its form; Beautifully broken, this is how the sky felt after a storm.

rose 3d

Sometimes reality tastes like bitter coffee
I'm trying to find the sugar

:)
Cacherosi 4d

Your smell blends with
Sunrise,
Sunsets,
&
Midnight dark
Your color reflects your taste
Your bitterness whirls me back to reality
&
Your sorcery, cruelly prisons me for
What feels like
Infinity

Stop giving me bowel movement
mike v Apr 22

is it freedom
to give away what's mine?
I taste the air, in the wind
and you, in my mind - I wonder, if
to forget today, will I wish away the light - ?
then until I turn blind - and numb - and why -
we run
I'm innocent - I
I didn't see it coming - I
I just let it happen -
I didn't plan on going out tonight
and then you came over after -
is it freedom
to give away what's yours - ?
cold handcuffs and red wine -
You're guilty - You
pretended you knew you were coming - You
You just let it happen -
You didn't plan on this tonight
but you just wanted action -
Tradition.
Free to do, free to please
What's free to you, it's what sets me free
and I don't need what I don't have and
I won't be a victim of this greed -
She hasn't called, I haven't either
and I still wonder what she thinks of me -

Day 1 - Drink liquid for sustenance.
Oskar Erikson Apr 20

Bite down
the stem of bitterness.
Drain it dry.
Think not
of sweetness.
Think of love
as a lie.

Nylee Apr 18

Her life had acquired coffee flavour
and she didn't like to be that bitter
She wanted someone with sweetener    
To make her life taste better

Wyatt R Apr 18

There is something oh-so sweet
about things that will never be.
Our imaginations
must have sugar teeth
while the grim reality's
only been bitter to me.
Taking slow sips
as I smell the coffee,
raw with nothing added to it.
A blow to my confidence,
a knot in my stomach,
it's brought me to my knees.
A punch of a strong taste,
a kick to the face,
this is the touch of defeat.
Unadulterated,
cultivated naturally.
Oh life, it's only ever
tasted bitter to me.

Can you taste it?
Yen Apr 16

To the asshole who once was my bestfriend but has now forgotten about me

Your tan skin and sweet smile was once my daily sunshine
A reason for me to wake up in the morning and be energetic in school
Your laugh pokes at my heart like a ring-less three point shot in a basketball game
I watched my heart become the ball
You shot through rings of fire
That kept burning and burning
But I played your game
Like you played me
Because you were once my best friend
But now you’ve forgotten me

You were once my daily sunshine
And now my daily hell.

I used to open Facebook and see a message notification
Your name in bold letters with a simple "Yo"
And a smile emoji
And sometimes you'll tell me
"Notice meeeee"
With five Es in the me

Now I open Facebook and see no message notification
Your name in light letters with a seenzoned "Yo"
And a smile emoji
I'll archive our thread
And I'll try to forget about you
But when you go online
I always tend to notice you

I see your name on the active list
And see your posts as you tag them
And not me.

You used to send me random lyrics
And made me listen to random music

You used to tell me
"You can count on me like one, two, three
I'll be there"
But when I needed you
I did count on you like four, three, two
But you did not come
You were not there

I did not even see your shadow when I asked for help
I never saw you by the audience during my performances

I've stopped watching your basketball games
Because I am done watching you
Shoot my heart through rings of fire
Watching it break on the same court where you taught me to play

I've stopped messaging you on Facebook
Because I am clearly just another message you have already read

And I was just another friend
You have already forgotten.


19:09 - 19:28
7 April 2017

Jelline Rabanal Apr 15

ladies and gents
don't fall in love with a poet
they break hearts the worst way
with the words they write and the things they say
they can break your heart
not by actual sinning
not by adultery
but by writing every word that seems like a daydream
when in fact it's a dark nightmare fancied by their skill

believe me i'm lying
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