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Emma 33m
I wanna write about you.
And I do.
You drip off the end of my pen,
Off the blinking line of my cursor,
And fill up white space
With the nebulousness of what you are to me;
Your cumulonimbus formlessness.
Enter.
Pause.
A moment of consideration.
I am constantly unsure of what this all means.
I love you.
You’re bad for me.
I might be bad for you in return.
I want you.
I don’t want anything and I burn for you,
I write for you,
I pine when I am a creature of pragmatism and action.
You don’t want me the same in return, if you do at all.
The absence of you is terrifying.
The absence of you was a relief.
With you I am elated.
With you I feel as though you slowly pull my heart apart,
As though you forcefeed me hope,
For I am unable to do anything else but wish for—
Change
—when we are together,
Though I know it is impossible,
Unlikely enough to deserve the word.
I can see the planes of your skin, feel
Them beneath my fingers
I can trace their lines with my mind’s
Tongue.
Wishing is pointless with you.
I know this and still cry for the moon.
Justin 4h
I just want to grow up and be like you
I just want to grow up...
I just want to...
I just want ...
I just...
don't know what I want to be  anymore
Maybe I should of grown up to be just like me ...and be free
Life goals, mentors, choices
we finish talking
say goodnight
i love you
you wrap your arms around me

your breath on my neck
as i once again ponder
how to bring it up,
how to get the words out

i open my mouth
but a sigh replaces the words
i've been trying to say
for so long

are you okay?
you ask
pulling me closer
kissing my head

i could say it
finish the conversation
that has been playing
in my head for days

but i don't
because just a few words
can break so much
and i just can't do that to you
even when you ask, i just can't tell
Yeah I’m a bit insane
A bit off line
Walking a line
Trying to keep steady and feet heavy
But **** you make it hard to understand
I’m not choosing
So if you make me, then you’ll lose
Not some **** “duck,duck, goose”
Is it too much to ask or to beg?
Actually I got another better way to say
I’ll work and I’ll fight for everything I want and can’t have
To not live, to aim, to please
I will aim to cease
Any name whom shall try to cut me
Go ahead, take a blow at me
See my feet still heavy?
No, actually I love me
Just like you
You look in the mirror who else you gonna run to
Too many demons you gravitate to?
Okay now jump the tracks, I want my life back.
“F*k” you, where the love at?
©Jessica Stull
Confused by encounters
Some life’s eternal purpose,
I take notes upon notes on the screen in front of me,
Questioning every little breath I take,
What the **** am I doing here?

Yet, I stand corrected,
As a fleeting moment of grace comes fluttering forward,
Lord knows I haven’t really tried,
To encapsulate this moment.

And so I have another existential crisis,
Where I claim to myself that I know it all,
Without realizing,
I know nothing at all.

Yet, I stand corrected,
Filling my brain with some kind of knowledge,
On a city upon a hill,
My teeth are clean and razor sharp.
sometimes I find it hard to talk to you
so I make lists in my sleep,
of something I could say.
but still I come up empty.
what is it about you?
I can’t live with you or without you.
every single day, I sit in my anxiety.
trying to find a way to say anything.
won’t you remember that I’m your baby?
and if you give a ****, won’t you not leave me?
you’re the one I’ll always choose,
please be mine and don’t waste my time.
love me for who I’m meant to be,
so won’t you please give me something?
because sometimes it’s hard for me to talk to you.
heavily inspired by rent
Dylan 1d
Why do I write?
Why expect anyone to read?
Perhaps I want to help,
but am I the right choice?
/
Am I right to have confidence?
Should I lack it instead?
Am I a Frost, a Poe,
or someone forever unknown?
/
Will this ever be discovered?
Will my private thoughts become public?
If they are private, WHY am I still writing?
Do I want people to know?
/
Help me.
Emma 1d
How do I stop?
By stopping?
That’s nonsense.
What if you didn’t want me back?
What if I left and never saw you again?
That’s the definition of stopping?
**** that.
You should stop.
Stop hurting me.
Can’t you just be mine?
For a little while.
I swear, not long.
I love you,
In selfishness and desperation.
But still.
Please.
What do I feel, if I even feel at all?
I'm ashamed and quite frankly, I'm confused.

No longer would I want to question
what is already known to be true. . .
yet where is thy confirmation?
'tis an ode past due

there are glimpses
of which I can't quite catch
where I linger
and now find
caught in this beautiful,  
intricately woven web of loneliness—

m̷y̷s̷e̷l̷f̷
May 29, 2012

pacing on the pavement outfront, I conjured this
There are two kinds of people in this world, the kind that get everything they’ve ever wanted and the kind that work hard and live in the dark
I’m feeling loneliest at most
Yep this definitely is depressing, watching cars go by and by
And yet there you are stuck in the same situation as always
Eves dropping, joining into conversations you’re not welcome to
Sipping on a martini, oh no you shouldn’t though, you gotta drive
Home
To where you feel the most emptiest inside
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