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mica Jan 29
thanks for letting me know you won't feel the same, it made me more inspired to write about you. how ironic.
Nat Jan 2
Said I was sheltered
Then showed me some real ****** up ****
I could never forget
You left a mark
In the worst way
Like an earthquake
You shook me up
Opened my eyes
To all the lies
Opened the door
To all that was hidden
I should have never seen
Knew me the best
And still did what you did
No respect
For me
**** hit differently
After seeing it so vividly
And I can’t deny  
Thought **** wasn’t fair to me
But now I see it so clearly
Tunnel vision
The bigger picture appeared to me
Something bigger
I’m meant to be

Isn’t it funny how
Earth, forged from the universe
Will die by our hands?
Faron Hymn Yang Aug 2020
don't you find it funny
how desperate we are to feel?
— what a great story!
(i cried eleven times)
chloe Jun 2020
It seems I can only write about love.
Which is weird because I am completely alone.
There is no one in the world who I want to hug
And not a single person, place, or thing I can call home.

Maybe it's that I am writing for someone else?
A stranger who needs to read loving words.
I think I write for everyone but myself.
I can’t pretend that being this lonely doesn’t hurt.

I think this is irony, but I am not sure.
My life feels pitiful and stupid.
There is not much more I can endure.
Perhaps love is just not something for which I am suited.

Alas, I will continue to write.
Because it is the only thing I can do.
My silly little poems give me life.
Even though reading my beautiful words make me blue.
(Before Covid 19)

I distance you
Because I hate you!

(After Covid 19)

I distance you
Because I love you!
After hearing the advise if you are caring for fellow citizens too distance yourself from them
Michelle Apr 2020
Fact is stranger than fiction.
Quentin sits for days trying to think of a plot,
As dazed and twisted as his.
And should the Tiger King take Quentin under his wing,
I am sure that Quentin's mouth will be searching for teeth.
(but then again, don't you think Quentin is a tad bit
Benevolent monarch, with peasants made of fur.
Boldy he strays upon a kingdom never his.
And the peasants,
They have no choice
Have no voice,
Nothing but the strength to look the Tiger King's
Advisor in the eye
as they say
And good old Carole Baskin watches.
From a pedestal of brie and champagne:
Money money money! Shower it.
Just not on the tigers.
No money for the peasants.
No money for the ******.
Michelle Apr 2020
She held out her arm,
To be poked by the robot.
"Tell me my symptoms my symptoms
My heartache,
My pain-
Tell me that put together
They all make sense."
The robot gave but a quizzical glare.
A dead stare through emotion so dense.
It analyzed the data,
The beep boop menagerie.
"You're human."
Was all the robot could see.
Doctor, doctor! Tell me it is not so.
Why is my heart in tact,
When it is so broken?
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