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jsb 1d
I know I'm in love because I'm filled with pain
And my mind is telling me to play twisted games
Testing, testing, 1, 2, 3,
When I am away, do you miss me?
Or do you wish you were free?
Testing, testing, 1, 2, 3,
When I leave, are you filled with relief?
Or are we on the same page?
Torn by insecurities
You told me I deserve to be loved
But this doubt will only die with me
So, maybe the best option is to set you free
Even if I'm wrong
love hurts. a lot. but it's also wonderful. i'll try harder to accept it.
svdgrl 4d
Slick with self preservation,
I moisturize away the blemishes.
Night masks alone in the apartment.
Mane too long they dampen
Dark lines on dark skin, strands
stick to me blacker than kajal.
I’ll shower in the morning.
Grabbing at the extra, cupping
Slapping and ******* it in.
I’m so much when i think
I’m not enough.
Wrapping it in lace,
hug where it goes in
Abnormal hourglass,
I turn around to examine
The lightning storm around my
thunder thighs too thick to gap,
Just a small wineglass
Under a coarse tangle.
“Need to workout again.”
Dimples press and flatten,
Tattoos jiggle and beckon.
The hairs on my legs are fine
stand straight in the cold
My feet are sort of dry,
I dip them in cream
And slip on soft socks I could
Never wear in sleep,
I think of a silly dream
where I’m blonde and very thin
Like the best friend
Of every man I’ve ever been with
The one they crush(ed)
on only just a little-
but that was a long time ago.
Such a funny pattern,
Such a common trend.
I wonder if I’m meant to
bring myself to that.
But to change so quickly-
I’d rather be fat,
dark and dead.
Leia Spencer Feb 3
“You’re beautiful” I say
For lack of a better word
Because how can I only describe her as so?
She’s what it feels like to feel the sun dance upon your face
The wind gently rustling your hair
The glowing of wood lit aflame
Candles flickering while the windows rattle from wind

She’s the beginning of the Star Wars theme at full blast
Hearing the sound of the TARDIS for the first time in so long
The opening credits of each long-awaited marvel movie
Feeling the magic of reading the first Harry Potter book again
The closing of a finished book, knowing there’s more to come
Rapping every line of Hamilton perfectly

She’s everything pure in the world that brings unbridled joy
And there’s no way that “beautiful” could
Measure up to that
Because that word is too overused
newpoetica Feb 1
often more times than not, i question if i have a knack for writing poems.
truth be told, i cannot discern the answer.
i attempt to make something roll off the tongue.
but, it's hard to do so when you don't know how to start.
so, a poet like me will have trials and tribulations that weigh heaviness on themselves.
it's the soul-crushing kind that feels similar to a heart aching.
because you want to be one of the best, but the reality is that you don't have the means to become better.
Baylee Kaye Jan 31
insecurity gets the best of me.
even when I don’t mean for it to.
a fear of becoming bothersome
with these afflictions I try to suppress.
I suffer restlessly with these sentiments,
earnestly craving a silence from the voices
that resound persistently in my head.
I struggle with the irons wrapped around me,
screaming routinely that it’s all a facade.
no matter how hard I try, how far I run,
the thoughts are always ahead of me.
always one step in front, beckoning me.
enticing me to welcome their embrace.
an embrace of sorrow, of lies and of pain.
a place of immeasurable uncertainty.
blanketed by a face of calm.
Baylee Kaye Jan 31
I just want to be loved.
found beautiful even when I hold no beauty.
caressed during my darkest days.
told everything will turn out okay.
because I just want to be loved.
I want
Jade Bartlett Jan 31
No matter how
you sugarcoat it,
there is never
a nice way
of calling someone


“You would have been beautiful
in the Renaissance era
[because in the Renaissance era
they painted portraits
of chubby girls like you—
back then,
fat was artistry.]

I still don’t know what
I was more upset about:
The backhanded compliment--
"would have"
being synonymous for
"no longer"--
or the fact that
I was conditioned
to believe the
Mona Lisa
was anything short of  
Don't be a stranger--check out my blog!

(P.S. Use a computer to ensure an optimal reading experience.)
dancing in the deep down
dramatic, lulling lays
of Lana Del Rey—

a quill on its snow-white
then tainted-black ground
and a flooded, brimful head
on its space—

till the airhead wakes and
weeps and wails.
A late post here, gotta admit that I still feel frustrated and mad at myself that I am unable to write lots like some of my friends. They are able to write long, gorgeous pieces even from the simplest of words.
sammy Jan 24
Treated, as if my heart's like yours
Talked to, as if I intruded your words
Looked on, and had brought my eyes nurture,
But my couple of words never went any further.
You're kind and you're caring,
But you'll never try hearing,
Just what my tongue ponders
And just what I am bearing.

It's true that I'm wrong,
But it's wrong what you've sung,
That I'm painted real pretty
And I'm made from some stone.
Don't feel lost or feel pity,
Just keep talking and loving me.

See it's simple my darling
There's no pain or torture
It's just weary and frailty,
And imperfections unblurred.

It takes time and good vision,
It takes feeling some words.
It takes more than you'll realize,
But it's not so unsure,
That I'll quickly find inside,
All the sweet and the pure.
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