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Alexis 22h
Out of all 150 poems of mine
none are about depression
although I dedicate my poetry to my flaws.

and maybe I could write one,
but I have no depression poems
only poems about wanting to die.

so maybe I am not depressed,
but yes,
I do not
want to exist anymore.
that at least,
I am sure of.
im definitely deleting this later ahaha
Translated by Przemyslaw Musialowski 10/7/2019

O scarecrow, dressed elegantly
- in worn-out shoes, ragged old hat,
on which black crow sits in dignity
and stares off into this distance where forest sad

- you certainly dream about traveling
into these wheat fields, grasses adorned with flowers
that you could lose your scarecrow's soul
running happily towards the horizon...

But you stand here, alas, forever lost in thoughts,
unable to understand where the restriction comes from,
with your straw heart always split
between both powerlessness and want.

Funny thing, my dear scarecrow - to have
so much on your own and not to.

Przemyslaw Musialowski 10/01/2008
Only poems that I've ever tried to write myself come from a time when I was 22 or 23 years old and there are only a few of them. Enjoy!
Do you look both ways?
When you cross my mind?
Could you stop taking my breathe away?
If you'd be so kind.
Give me a map,
To stop me getting lost in your eyes,
The more I see them,
The more I fantasize.
About the way you smile,
And the way you speak,
The way you laugh,
You make me weak.
You make me crave you,
To taste you, is my desire,
We could be the sparks,
That starts a passionate fire.
So Señorita,
Tell me you feel the same,
The way you make me feel,
Is driving me insane.
I just want to hold you,
Caress your body, your hips,
I wanna kiss you,
Your body, and your lips.
Simon 3d
Life, the universe, existence, and all its possible occupants aren’t truly what they seem. Coherent enough between intervals and radiuses. There all present, right? Present is a term meant for the typical surface area. Things aren’t always what they seem when hiding in the dark. Darkness is without equal. Light is a mere pale imitation full of global pandemics! It’s our belief system. Darkness is turmoil. Light is delusional. One without equality, has no bearings to equal itself. Itself having no identity. No speaking. Nothing to argue about. Sitting in a stereotypical platform! Nothing dynamic about life’s purposes. When everyone is cleaning up the trick hiding in the light. Darkness has no equal. It’s scared. Not out for itself. Light is, because it understands too much. Shutting out the one who is truly full of equality to begin with. Revolving around the spectrum we call life, the universe and existence. Mere plans that sit and stare. Never making a true mark on anyone’s very sense of self. Sense of self bleeding dry! Being dry doesn’t mean it’s without equal. But without purpose. You all never understanding why that is. Tricking you into believing what is, and what really is. When what really is just another diversion staring off with a blank expression. Life is inside out for one reason. Components become instigated by mere lies. Stamped by something totally made up. Tethered by the strings of half lies, and half truths. Never perceiving the real giving’s on what truly matters. That’s the problem. Half truth never becoming that realization. Too dangerous for outsiders to truly perceive. Components are stamped to believe in false impressions on purpose. Reasons that go beyond the spectrum of every sense of life combined! Life, the universe, existence, is nothing without its occupants. Very reason they have thought’s and feelings. Nothing is without reason. Unless it’s a forced gimmick hiding in the light that isn’t equal.
Life isn't tolerant to it's equals. Prioritizing those equals without harm or division. Consequence isn't dividing if one is abstracting all conflicts without breathing the words dry!
It's easy to be most confident
When the action is present
When the purpose is known
But give yourself nothing but time to see
Nothing but quite days of drifting snow
And there in the waiting you will find
That the precious thing which you wanted most
Was just another line of string
In a wrapped up life slowly being unrolled
Whatever we want, is most often a human want.
you are an open book to me
your eyes reveal pages of wisdom, pages of tenderness, pages of pure passion
i could read you cover to cover
over and over
i don’t dare dog ear your pages
crack your spine
highlight my favorite passages
for i do not own you
i want to memorize
every line that my fingers trace
every word that my tongue tastes
all of you
i could read you
cover to cover
over and over
every chapter leaves me wanting
more and more
and when i finally finish you
i will want nothing more
than to reread you
cover to cover
over and over
finding parts that i passed
delighting in every
printed
word
you are a marvel in literature
from your prologue
to your epilogue
and back again
even when i’m not reading all i can think about is
the next time i can
open you up
breathe you in
and consume your sweet story
cover to cover
over and over
Emily Sep 27
walking upon a star
I feel it's warmth
I see it's light
but then I realize
I'm stuck
and when my legs finally work
the star has burnt out
So recently I've made some really amazing online friends from South Korea and I really want to be able to meet up with them one day, but when i spoke with my parents about me possibly ever visiting South Korea I got yelled at and my dreams were shattered. It's a bit upsetting because my whole life I've never had any goals and I made the goal for myself to visit Korea one day, but that dream was taken away from me
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