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Snow White isn't easy
Maybe she just needs seven extra sources
of income
Maybe she gets depressed
easily
Maybe she is very good friends
with every single one
Why does everyone have to assume she's sleeping with all of them?
Snow White is better than that.
Batool Feb 2016
Let me write a happy poem
and paint it seven colors

Red for the burning passion
and orange shows emotions

Yellow for the friends i made
and green for peace and truce

Blue showing the calm ocean
that steer my ship slow motion

indigo wings that help me fly
so high in violet sky

Seven colors to paint my life
and hide the blackening rife !!
m Feb 2016
There are few things I've realized after we talked.

First.
You're intelligent, and most people don't see that.
They can't understand that there's more to your pretty face.
Your well-thought words utter what actions can't.
You always tell me that I'm the poet between the two of us
But you,
You draw bright cities and beautiful night skies
With hushed voices, and quiet whispers.

Second.
You're sensitive, and you take every harsh word to heart.
You always say you don't,
And cover the hurt with weak smiles
That don't reach your eyes.
But I know you better, and I know you deeply.
You're too kind, too pure to be treated like that.

Third.
You're patient.
You know that perfect things,
No matter how small they are
Or grand they may be,
Will arrive in the right time.
We, of all people, know this.
You're the most special gift
I didn't know I was yearning for.
My sweet, sweet serendipity.

Fourth.
You will never be convinced that cats are better than dogs.
I agree.

Fifth.
You're kind to others, but never to yourself.
You love so unconditionally
That all that's left to you
Are tired eyes and weathered bones.

Sixth.
You are trapped within walls of expectations.
Your bright, burning soul slowly faded
With years worth of sadness.
It took a while before you found yourself.
And when you did,
You were unsure if you liked what you've seen.

Seventh.
Though our hearts are weary,
And our bodies restless,
Know that I will only want you.
Know that I will always need you.
You see through me,
Beyond the superficial,
You saw the deepest, darkest crevices of my soul.
You make me feel things I have never felt before.

There are few things I've realized after we talked.
I love you,
And I will never, ever let you go.
Seven months. 02/16/16.
Here's to forever.
EEZ Feb 2016
A million sandlewood candles from
the quick checkout at Sephora
could not mask what we have
done here. Not all the *****
in the world could seize my
dripping mind, which always
seems to pour down the
drain for you and your
stupid ignorant
wild and lewd
cruel and deliberate
enchanting, invigorating—
I sit behind you in math
class and you hold
his hand.
He met me at East 79th
and fifth,
“I think she’s cheating,” he says.
“What a *****.” I say, shaking my head.
Seven Sins Collection.
red, blood stains on my hands and your body,
I’ve washed my hands a thousand times,
but i can still see the blood,
purple, all our bruised bodies, galaxies of wrath and fear,
etched into our skin and minds,
bottles shattering, bottles almost as broken as me,
our past now wrapped up in broken glass.
bland dinners, eaten in silence,
too scared to say sorry, too scared to break the silence,
and make it right again.
metal, the metallic smell of blood,
forever stained on my hands.
tears welling in your eyes, while i well with guilt
guilt, frustration, sadness
eating me away into
nothingness
Manic Brilliance Oct 2015
Within lamenting hushened calls,
Shepards watch thine burning sea.
As bussoms burn with froths of lies,
I shall avenge you, this I decree.


Lost art thou, to seven layers.
A trembled ground from which you cry,
With sword and dagger at my side,
To free you, I would surely die.


Worry not, the chains that bind,
I shall crush with mine own hands.
For power beacons within mine heart,
To crumble towers into sand.


But thy doth not knowst,
To slay the beast of sorcery.
The sword I bring is my mind,
And the dagger is mine poetry.
Echoes Of A Mind Sep 2015
I'm tired...
Please just let me sleep...
Doctor! Doctor!
Please don't try to wake me.
I might only be seven
but God is calling me to heaven.
I tried to imagine the feelings of a person who is in pain due to sickness and don't want to live anymore. I don't know why the "I" ended up beeing a seven year old child.
It´s been raining for seven days
I just want to see the sky
A piece of me is out of place
I watch the clouds as they cry

Nothing matters now
I am going insane
Our sacred vow
Has fallen with the rain

It´s been raining for seven days
I just want to block it out
Standing on the street in a daze
Wishing for a drought

Nothing matters now
Who am I without you
The sky has forgotten how
To paint itself blue

It´s been raining for seven days
I just want to drown in this sea
You have fallen from grace
Was she more beautiful than me?
I wrote this poem in late august.. added it on my other page but thought I´d share it with you guys as well. Besides, it´s raining outside as I´m typing this.
Copyright @ Johanna Magdalena
Olga Valerevna Sep 2015
the breeze in the trees hasn't found me today
and part of me wanted to keep it that way
I've hidden my body inside of myself
and all I can do is remain where I fell
but lying in ditches is tiring too
it causes my sadness to take me to you
I want to be certain before I give up
that what I am keeping is only enough
and pulling the wool over eyes I don't want
I'll gather apologies into my arms
I want to remember what you will forget
to change the beginning, we shouldn't have *met
I'll see you in seven years when you're somebody else's
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