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Juliana Sep 30
I do not exist.
I am theoretical,
a vague conception.

A collection of cracked and shattered eggshells,
swimming through their shields of protection.
In theory, my mind is the static of a television screen,
with no news to report, just the quiet credits
of a horror loading a few dozen miles away.

Is it a Tuesday?

I am strong,
and determined,
and powerful.

I cannot be ripped to shreds.
My strings cannot be cut.

I am a daydream,
sweet and surreal,
the lustful longing
only a little girl
can dance beneath.

I’m a torturer,
my own body my canvas,
my mind a delusional path
of destruction doused
in little wishes.

I am immortal
until proven otherwise.
You cannot ****
a trailing thought.

How many more seconds will tick past
before my body is mine again?
How many clocks must reset
before the moving pictures move on?

I long to be spontaneous.
I want to hold my hand in yours,
sip a coffee and slip my sunglasses through my hair.
I imagine the sunsets we could watch together,
the car trips, and the daisies.
We could scream in the cornfields,
you could get down on one knee,
we could travel the world together.

I long to be important.
I know I’m intelligent.
Maybe if I could memorize,
if I was in control of my own thoughts,
if I wasn’t riddled with what he says
and her opinions and her rebuttals.

I can see myself being happy.
I know how to daydream.
I want to write a novel,
I want to learn the secrets of the stars.

How can I reach my goals
when you complete them for me?
How can I live a meaningful life
when yours is covering the screen?
How can I get rid of you,
without having to say goodbye?

Because under all these linguistic strategies,
under poems and prayers,
the truth is that I am in love with you.
I, on purpose, hold you close.
The only stories I see among the stars
are the ones you step foot in,
the ones I’ve written for myself.

I am a dreamer with multiple dreams.
I am a novelist for two worlds.
I want to take the path not yet taken,
with a go-pro following the one that has.

I don’t want to lose you.
I’m terrified of losing me.
Shout out to the fact
that I wrote my D&D character
to be everything
I've ever wanted
I've ever hoped for
I've ever imagined
for myself

Now I'm quite literally
living vicariously through her
and finding myself wishing
for what she has
rather mourning what I don't

It's probably not healthy
how invested in her I am
how obsessed
how utterly disappointed I am
that I'm not really her
I want to be her
Palpebra Jun 10
same face
different looks
same man
different books
William, Callan, Remington, Aiden, Maverick.............
Jana Pelzom Nov 2020
There I stood
What a crazy mood!
I’m pretty
   You’re not
I deserve this
    You do not
Why can’t you listen to me
    They’re not your bot
This is unfair
    You got to accept life and its fare
What do you mean I need a doctor
I am just practicing self love!
And that’s when you realise
You’re not all
What the jazz is about
You’re a little speck
And that’s ok
You don’t need
Though it be to your dismay
To be put on display
Or stand high on deck
Of the sinking wreck.
I was reading up on personality disorders and thought about talking to a narcissistic character (?)
Narcissists ©️2020 Jana Pelzom
Flip through the pages of a fantasy series,
Always a Series,
You don't want good things to end,
Takes you away from the wicked and wild,
Cause these friends cant hurt you...
I am dressed for the occasion, I think to myself as I pace back and forth.
The floor creaks underneath my feet.
I wince at the noises it makes.
My stocking shuffles leave patterns in the carpet.

I wait for the house to fall silent, and the last light switch to clink.
I count the minutes until the house will fall quiet.
My impatience builds, but I stuff him back down.
I release my sigh slowly and carefully not to wake the beast.

Finally, the house moans as it settles into it's deep sleep.
Excitement leaps for joy in circles around me.
I grin at her widely, and shake my head!

We are free!
I am free!
Free to do as I please without having to ask the gatekeeper before my every move.
There is no one controlling where my pawn shall lay. 

My nerves build as I turn the door handle slowly.
I freeze in my place as the latch clicks.
I second guess my thoughts.
Excitement takes my hand and holds it tight.
She reassures me everything will be alright.

I peer into the darkness.
My ears listen closely for abnormal noises. 
Across the hall, the shadows beckon for me to come over.
They smile at me with their wide Cheshire cat grins.
Their teeth glisten in the moon light.
I slide into their crowd, and we tiptoe into my favorite room

The kitchen glistens and shines.
I can smell what the beast made for dinner.
I carefully open the cabinets, and graze inside.
I rapidly stuff items in my pockets, and carefully select pieces that won't be missed.

My friends warn me from afar that we do not have much time.
They tap their watches to make me hurry up.
I quickly glance around, and gather my things.
I scamper toward them as quick as a mouse.

We dash into the next room.
I feel at bliss as I carry on with normal human tasks.
I scrub my face until all the layers of dirt have flaked off.
The tooth brush bristles feel rough against my gums. 
I take the last few seconds to drink the pure cold water.
I gulp it with greed. 

What is that noise
We all freeze.
My friends rush me to my room.
They shove me inside with a quick goodbye
I can hear them fasten the tape on the door.
Their foot steps disappear until there are none.

I breathe a sigh of relief.
I am safe.
Until tomorrow my dear friends, I whisper before I climb into my bed.
karly codr Jul 2020
I don't remember the last time
I was able to write.

Words flowing on the pages,
Page after
                Page after
                                Page after

Words that I can relate to
Figures of myself,
Painted into the lives
Of characters,
Made to represent who I
Would like to be
Guys, I started writing again! Like stories! And the characters aren't depressed! I think I might finally be getting better!
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