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if i died tonight, would you miss me?
would you say nice things at the funeral
and tell people i had a beautiful soul
or would you tell them that my thoughts were troubled
and you helped to calm the waters

would you tell them i died too young
or would you say that i had plans for living
would you say how i always looked on the bright side
or would you explain that i had a dark side
only you could see

would you recall the memory of the day we met
or would you tell them the pieces we shared
talk about the first time we kissed
or the first time you asked if i was okay

if i died tonight, i'd want you to be honest
just don't give all the good parts away
thinking about what people would say about me if I died right now. especially one person, who knows me better than almost anyone. wondering if they would gloss over my rough bits and paint me as a blank angel-fairy child.
Daisy Jan 14
I’m dreaming again
Only this time it’s not my own dreams I dream
It’s hers

She’s covered in a thin film of sweat
She trembles
I trembled too

He stands over her
Maliciousness on his face

It’s an oddly farmiliar sight
He’s angry
He was angry at me too

He drops to his knees in front of her
He slides his belt off
Unbuckles his pants
Smirks

Her breathing now becomes
Sporadic and ragged
Inspiration-
Expiration-
Inspiration-
Expiration-

She shakes uncontrollably
I shook uncontrollably too

As he leans over her
She holds her breath and waits
Inspiration-

She tries to scream
She tries to move
She tries to say ‘no’

She can’t
She’s terrified
I was terrified too

I wake startled
“Another night terror plagued me”
I say to the darkness

I don’t know what’s worse anymore
Hearing my screams
Or hearing hers
Riiyyaa Nov 2018
Here in bed I lay at night
Eyes wide open, Mind even more
As I close my eyes the everything seals
But it isn't a night

I work my mind
As depression hit
I cuddle my pillow
As tears flow
It is a sudden mess
But hard enough to make it count

Nights like this
Are the prove
That life exist at the end
Of every tear you roll
I know this has no rhym
chichee Oct 2018
Two years later and
I'm still writing poems about what it would feel like to
strangle you in your sleep,
Just so you'd know how it feels.

I still wake up some nights,
choking
on that time you said
if you could be anyone you'd crawl into my skin
and live in it,
if only so you could call me crazy
and know you were right.

(Only in my dreams do I tell you
that was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me)


Sometimes I forget my bed is a time machine,
turning scar to scab and scab to blood.
I'm a magic trick, I'm a razor blade,
turn me sideways and watch them
disappear.
To the people who only talk to me in my memories.
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