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fearfulpoet Mar 2019
Why they call me the fearful poet! (The Razor Thin Difference)

”but who am I to complain
the  razor thin difference tween
blessings and curses so thin,
sometimes are they not, the same thing”

Aug. 2018


this familiar line, well traversed, lives on the maps
sketched indented on your palms and brow,
at the edges of the crow’s nests, the eye’s keyboard witnesses,
recording every stroke

we tap in seeings, forming letters,
letters into lines, lines into verse,
as we alliterate, we walk unawares,
of the razor thin difference tween blessings and curse,
indiscernible until concluded, perhaps, not even then,
the stanza’s probable outcome,
always unsure, unknowing destiny’s decision

so we walk, tread, plumb, shoutout
“vive la difference,”
hoping the blessing messengers hear us first,
consummating our pleas on their favorable sight & side,
ever fearful, we do not shout loud enough,
do the blind hear,
need me, possess my sacrificial offerings,
my trepidations, burnt on the Temple’s altar

who will breathe their smoke and understand
their fearful origins?

so we-write, cajole that our every moment’s fear,
find the difference, that we don’t bleed from life’s razoring,
the thinner thinnest
needle threaded,

and fear is the threat,
and fear is the thread,
that holds me together

until the unraveling
requires me to write again,
the fearful poet
3/21/19 4:15 am
julianna May 2018
I'm happy with my body
But I could always be thinner.
Be thinner be smarter
Be the perfect daughter
Smile and laugh
Such a piece trash
Just agree
Give in to their lying
Your hopeless, but dont stop trying
No one truley cares
Don't ignore the stares
Stop holding teddy bears
Run your fingers through your hair
Your an adult now
Fix your self up now.
I'm not really sure where this is going but oh well
GM Jun 2012
Nobody knows
They can't tell my pain
They can't see my tears
They won't feel my hunger
They won't notice until I fade away

My life is built on them
Excuses and lies.
My mind is full
Yet my stomach is not

Who would know?
That happy girl,
That chubby, happy girl
She's crying inside
There's a disease in her mind
She's struggling
I'm struggling.

I'm too far gone
Michaela Ferris Apr 2015
Maybe if I cut myself
Or made myself prettier and thinner
Then you would love me,
Not leave me all alone.

Maybe if I made that jump
Or made myself in your image
Then I would finally be good enough
And not an outcast.

Maybe if I cut myself
Or made myself prettier and thinner
Then you would finally love me
And I wouldn't be the shameful daughter.

— The End —