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Marina Sep 2020
Time
has never felt so precious to me
until now
babie Jun 2020
as delta rae said,
oh baby.
it's a long way down
to the bottom of the river,
hold my hand

as she looks me in the eyes
and tells me to run
i look at her
realizing that this
this is what life really is

life is terribly unbearable
however
it is incredibly beautiful at the same time
those moments
with your favorite people
where you stop breathing
because you're so happy

moments like these are what i live for
hold my hand
oh baby
it's a long way down to the bottom of the river
delta rae was right
but sometimes
the bottom of the river isn't where you find death
sometimes
it's where you find life
happiness
or love.

the bottom of the river is only bad if you make it that.
so don't let the bottom of your river be the end
let it be the beginning
random word spitting bc of a tik tok song lol
If I were to lose my eyesight,
My vision would be heightened.
Free from worldly distraction, I
See humanity for what it is.
It is terrifying.
It is beautiful.

2. If I were to lose my sense of smell,
Well,
I think I’d be just fine.
I’m used to not breathing,
Smothered by emotion
And over-love.
I think I’d be just fine,
But I’d sure miss the smell of you.

3. If I could never hear your voice again,
Please kiss me with all of your
Words. Let me read your lips
With mine,
Our own sign language.
Let your secrets spill on to
My tongue.
If I could never hear you say
"I love you", dear,
Let me feel it.

4. If I lose my sense of taste,
A fire would burn within;
To never taste your lips again
Would be a deadly sin.

5. If I lost the ability to touch,
I’d go madly insane.
A most basic comfort;
A primitive coping mechanism
Lost to the world.
A world without touching you
Is no world at all,
But the deepest pit of hell.
I do not wish to go there.
Rita Sailor Jan 2019
i fear we now have more in common than before
i figured it out the day i learnt to drive
and now he's standing in the doorway with my words in his mouth
chloe fleming Nov 2017
Please stop calling me nice.
I am not nice.
I will not be contained to a single word,
When my bones are built from metaphors
And my lips leak similes.
I am a fireball of emotion, splitting trees and men in two with my passion for my art.
I am a slurry of terror, creeping up on you at night that curls your toes right before you fall asleep.
I am not nice, I am anything but
I am alive with the summer heat that burns in my eyes and the sunlight that flows through my ribcage.
I am a warrior, a fighter, a solider in disguise.
I am the moon that hides it face in the day, only to showcase it's purity in the night.
I am the stiff wind that knocks the shallow air out of your lungs on a cold, January morning.
I am the tick, tick, tick of the buzzer right before its majestic song.
I am the obscene, the extraordinary, the menacing things in life.
I am not confined by a single word.
I
am
not
nice.

— The End —