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On a slow summer evening,
cherry-stained and giggling,
I sit on one side of the porch and
you both on the other though
it is going to take you two, with
your green eyes and red fingers like
chapstick or popsicles, 100
days in a fast space ship to reach me.
Hopefully the cherries you’re bringing
along won’t spoil before you arrive
on my alien planet (alien though
you share more of my
molecular makeup than any others)
and in return I’ll show you some new
creation but in all fairness I should
be thanking you for who I am
because it was, after all,
you two who shaped me.
Pyrrha Dec 2018
There were parts of you I didn't like
So sometimes I pretended they weren't there
I made believe there were parts of you I couldn't live without
But one day I was looking for those parts of you
And all I saw were the parts I couldn't stand
Slowly I began to realise that you were only full of make-believe
Those parts I loved
Were never real
Neither was our love

You can't love what isn't there
meg Nov 2018
I don’t believe in magic,
but sometimes I feel as if
I’m floating on this cloud
of the make believe,
that floats around
and picks up people like me,
that just want to believe in something.

I don’t think there is any
specific reason for existence.
Maybe its coincidence
or some celestial power,
but I like to believe it’s some kind of magic.
Something that just hides in the shadows
And pushes things at specific times.
Like the rain and the tide.

I like to think that everything is made out of fantasy
and wishes and all magical things.
That my intuition isn’t what tells me to do things,
it’s the something between the sheet of real and make believe
that follows me to ensure my success.

Of course, that’s not true though.
There is nothing in this world except for me and what I am.
Nothing but me and my own fantasy and wishes and magical things.
Nothing but the sparkle in my veins and the dreams in my eyes.

I don’t want to live in a world where I have to make own magic.
In a world where I have to make my own sunlight
and galaxies in my eyes and drown in my own hues of make believe.

I don’t want to live in a world in which
I am the only enchanted thing.
But I guess that’s how everyone feels.
We all live in this twisted fantasy, this dark fairytale.
Maybe with our own fates in mind,
we will try to make our own magic.
i wish we could just have something magical in our lives, but i guess we just have to wait till we make it for ourselves.
Pyrrha Oct 2018
You and I were never real
We were just kids who played pretend
regina Oct 2018
They used to spent their time at ikea everytime they were together.

She remembered she pointed her finger to one of those couch. She said she wanted to buy that and put it in their room.
She can’t erase the memory of his smile after she said that.

They were too in love, they start to make believe and holding onto “what ifs”

And when they were passing by to one of those garden swings.

He stopped by and grabbed her by the hand.
“One day i will build a garden at the back of our house, i know you love swing. I’ll plant some trees. We can spend our time there. I know you will love it, i will love it too.”

She could hear excitement within his voice.
She nonchalantly hugged him with a big grin plastered on her face.

A year has passed,
She was scrolling through her instagram.
She saw, he bought the swing they always wanted and planted a tree next to it.
With another girl sitting right beside him.
Donna Jul 2018
If you look careful
You will see natures magic
I saw a giant
x
Arthur Habsburg Jul 2018
All land begins
underneath these feet:
a merry makebelieve.

Jump
and catch a glimpse of Arabia
in red,
Birkenhead
in yellowish-grey,
Berlin's fading rainbow..
all lacking in depth like
floaters,
like foreign pain,
like your very first birthday.

Don't they?

Spend days in suspension,

don't you?

Well, look around!
You see ahead
and back
are much the same
when all is round.
And all IS round!
Unless of course,
you're
on the ground
where a single wave can
****.

Doubtless fun,
boundless thrill, all
but for a price!
Here
even cloudy sunsets imply
sacrifice.
And at nights
perfect darkness never dwells,
Some devilry always tells the time
in mocking ways:
Jump
and you're on holidays,
divorced from all necessity,
sleeping in the sun
for days an altogether different
beast,
electrified,
with sandbagged veins.

At least not dead,
I hear you say.
How cute..
Alas! the price you pay for
being oh so futile is per se
a snide;
So pick your cherries and throw them
in that tide!
You know the lights in this harbour never return
in a straight line
May craft and the shimmering power
not let you be
the fog in the rye,
or the rock's inside.

You are round and everything
is your equal.
So consider your battles well.
Let's play make believe
Where I can pretend that you're mine
For a minute
Even it's merely adequate

I will dress myself beautifully
So, everyone will agree
I'm worthy
By your side,
I look like a bride

Hence, when you dally with me
You will look to no one, but me
Because, that's the sole time
You call me, dear, without grime

Even it's just a made believe,
That last in Christmas eve
It's worth to achieve
Because you'll never become mine
Rileigh Shanks Mar 2018
Scraped up knees
And muddy boots;
Denim overalls
And the bow she shoots.
She’s known for climbing trees
And running loose;
Facing adventure with ease,
And putting her imagination to good use.

A little girl in a Big Boy’s world,
She always knew she didn’t fit in.
Trying to be like other girls felt like wearing somebody else’s skin.
She’d tried donning dresses, tried keeping her hair softly curled,
But felt much more comfortable as a cowboy with a bottle of gin,
Or as Bilbo Baggins’ long-lost twin.

Daddy never called her “Princess”,
Never referred to her as “Doll”.
Not because He saw her as anything less–
Because He knew she wouldn’t like that at all!
She’d never been your typical “Damsel in Distress”,
Never needed a Prince to climb any tower wall.
There was never a Knight in Shining Armor who could impress–
She’d leap from the tower herself, even if it meant a painful fall!

“Princesses don’t see enough action,”
She always would insist,
“They’re prissy and boring and helpless,
And always waiting around to be kissed!
I need adventure and excitement to be my distraction.
What others think, I couldn’t care less;
I don’t need a man in order to exist!”

Daddy always knew she wasn’t like the other girls,
But that she was happy with who she was.
He never saw her differences
As any sort of flaws.
Never would he exchange her boots and flannels
For the typical lace and pearls.
She was wonderfully perfect;
Her quirks never gave Him pause.
In fact, He loved them,
Celebrating them with boisterous and adoring applause.

She would much rather be a Pirate Captain,
Sailing the seven seas,
Than a maiden dressed in satin
Who startles at the sound of a sneeze.
Her heart was that of an Elven Warrior,
Renowned for her bravery and strength.
Unlike a princess who balked in horror
When faced with a difficulty of any length.
She was made to be a Viking Hero
Who helped save her country at war,
Not a foolish damsel whose experience is zero,
And who faints at the thought of gore.
A Superhero who battles against evil
And rescues this world from certain doom
Was much more appealing than a ballerina regal
Who sits waiting for her groom.
Even a Jedi Knight who dies in battle
Was a much better fate
Than that of the Queen of a castle
Who never steps beyond her front gate.

A zombie slayer, a vampire hunter–
That’s who she was, and wanted to be!
A princess’ average luxury and luster
Didn’t fit her adventurous fantasy.
She was a unique treasure, something rarely found,
And to be clumped in with all the rest would be to see her spirit bound.
The only Princess she’d ever been
Was a Space Princess who could hold her own.
Pink was never a color she’d be willingly caught in,
And she refused to become just another “basic girl” clone.

Daddy loved her different, and held her differently.
He wanted her to know that she was cherished,
And that He was always listening intently.
He would never call her “Princess”,
For she’d feel her dreams had perished,
So instead He called her “Captain”,
Speaking to her ever-so gently.

If she wanted to be a Pirate,
She knew she was free to be.
If today she chose the life of a Paladin,
She always knew her Daddy would see.
If she desired to become a zombie-fighting tyrant,
Daddy asked if he could join her team.
He’d help her train as a bow-wielding assassin,
And push her to be the best that she could be.

He would never change her
Or make her into something she was not.
He would meet her where she was,
And by His example, she was always taught
To be comfortable with who she was, and to always be sure
That what she did was done with excellence,
And to give everything honest thought,
So the battles she fought were always for the highest cause.
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