Don't worry,
When they'll be burning me to the stakes
For the true witch that I am,

When the smoke gets in my eyes,
And clouds over my judgment,

I'll tell you.
I'll tell you of who I killed-
My hopes and dreams
That I thought I unshackled for what it seems,
But didn't.  

I'll tell you of who I am,
Of who I used to be,
Of who I want to be,
And who I need to be,
But what I am now,
Is none of those things.

What I am now,
Is dying.

Alex 7h

It's 11:11,
I'm thinking and wishing to be with you

And you will never know
Sincerely 11h

You have not read my story.
You don’t know my vocabulary.
You don’t know the boundaries of my spine.
And you sure as hell don’t know the story in these pages.
Don’t act like I am simply a definition.
That my worth is in one word.
I am an entire fucking book.
Don’t pretend I am a dictionary.
That I simply contain information.
No,
I make you feel welcomed.
I can take you away
I can make you feel the pain that you’ve never felt.
I can make you feel the happiness you’ve once felt.
My story can take you away.
So, no.
I am not simply a word.
Don’t try to describe me as it.
Because if you do;
Don’t forget who writes my story.
I can make you what I want in it.

I run from things when they move too fast,
Because my last relationship left nothing but cracks.
But you promise to stay and I promise to love you,
Even if I know that none of what we say is true.
Because human beings promise forever, not even stopping to think if they'll be around for that long.
So when my blue boy promised a lifetime,
I thought it would be okay to sing him my lovely midnight song.
But when he left after leaving marks under my skin,
I knew not to fall in love again.
I am claustrophobic,
I have severe philophobia,
But I'll say things like I'm yours I'm yours I'm yours,
And then I'll leave again,
Because I'm not made to love anyone like you, I must confess.
My feet move fast,
But you'll see how fast they can go when I'm running from the things and the people I called my home.

Fear of Love Phobia – Philophobia. The fear of love (or falling in love) phobia is known as Philophobia.

I wish that I died with you when I had the chance,
So I don't have to die alone again.
Because in my dreams we drown together,
But in reality we're nothing more than friends.
But how can you be Just Friends,
With someone you're in love with?
How can you smile and laugh with them,
When on that very bed you've felt their skin?
In hushed kisses and promises,
Forever was in every gasp,
But when you introduce me as your best friend,
No one really thinks that.
"I'm over her."
"It wasn't even real."
"We're just kids."
Are the lies I spit and spit,
While going home to brush my teeth so no one can smell you on my breath again.
Inside and out,
I've fallen for you,
But when we roam about,
No one knows our little truth.
I wish that before this ended,
We drowned in one more kiss.
I wish that before we truly ended,
I felt a little more of that Perfect Deadly Bliss.

Bella 17h

Am I the,
Artistic type?
The one who sees the world through a different lens
who turns sounds into colors
and sites in to Smells
into feeling
and two children running are not children running
they’re Happiness
Joy
their giggles turn into Yellow and Pastel Pink
turn to Sunshine
turn to Waking
turn to Serenity
Relaxing on the beach
where you can hear the baby blue and white waves
and see the soft calming sand slipping through your fingers and toes
turning to…

Maybe-- I am the,
Partying type.
Ragers
Dance Grinding
music Pounding
the same beat of our heads
of our bodies
flashing lights
the dark and the heat
Wild
Drinking Screaming
loving one another with our bodies
not caring who it is
because
our bodies don't care
if we are in sync
what is the difference
the same…

What if I'm the,
Frantic type?
the Busy type
Scrambling, Rushing
time is something I don't have Time for
running is my Past
if only I had Passed Time
noise flies by
not looking anywhere but straight
car horns, buildings, wind blowing
the sound of friction across my own skin and the skin of those like me.
that is my Familiarity
Air I do not Breathe
it flows through me.
it hits me and I consume it
I do not Break for it
I cannot Break for it
I…

How about,
the Silent One?
nose in a book,
hearing the voices in the background.
looking up occasionally, to see the others.
see their confusion.
their Hindsight is my Foresight,
I understand what will happen before it does.
because,
I've seen it before,
I can look ahead,
see the outcome,
slow down the world like it's a video in an editing software that I can stop.
Slow down.
Rewind.
Rewatch.
that I can…

Perhaps,
I am all of them.
Perhaps,
it doesn't matter.
I can turn the sounds rushing by me hitting my skin into color
I can separate time into partying and people watching
Both are possible.
life doesn't have to pass in one form,
it can be Technicolor
and Beautiful at the same time.
sound can pass into colors
and life can either Fly
or Pause-- and drag on.
Either way, it's okay--
because it's me.

In a nutshell you are the ocean
And I am a toy boat
Caught in the waves
We collided and I was sent rolling . . .
Rolling
MDMA, lovers speed
You taste good but you could kill me
My personal brand of ectasy
Or maybe you're LSD
You changed me
The chemicals in my brain
Will never be the same
I'm stained
Acid psychosis
Too many doses
But what I like most is
You running through my veins
I marked the needle with your name
You're the flame under the spoon
One pin-prick takes me to the moon
It's over too soon
Then I'm jonesing
Can't stand to be alone see,
But time is pretty crystals
A quarter is too pricey
Days go by and I'm spun out
Strung out
Hard to find time when the sun's out
What can I say, I guess I'm a junkie
Losing my mind when you leave me
But the high is like no other
We might kill each other
It's out of control
But your eyes are the color of my soul
And I want you to stay
Damn, please don't walk away
Just one more hit and I'll be there
Don't go, just say you care
And I'll keep nodding
Brain rotting
Veins buzzing
That good loving
I need you

Scarlett 21h

If time was never right
For both of us,
Why do we need to wait
For the right time?

If time was our enemy,
Why did we gave it the power
To decide and control our hearts?

Time might not seem to be in place,
"Us" might always seem to be wrong
But why does holding you always seems to be right?

I don't have to wait no more,
Time was never our ally
And I will never be its slave.

Perfect timing isn't real but a perfect person is
Anna 1d

Kiss me with your eyes wide open.
.
.
.
.
.

Let me feel them tickling

every inch of my skin.

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