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#allowed
“Am I allowed to be angry? Tell me, and be honest, am I allowed to feel? ‘Cause every time I open up, your problems are a little larger. And every time you complain, I suffer a little. I am not your therapist, whose advice you don’t take. I’m your friend. Am I allowed to be angry? Tell me, and be honest, am I allowed to feel? ‘Cause when I let my anger out in retaliation. You are a little angrier. When will I be allowed to be human? When won’t I be a punchbag anymore?” A.V.
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May 29, 2025
May 29, 2025 at 1:36 PM UTC
Am I allowed?
managing mental health wrapping head around changing outlook views wearing scars like a crowns won’t help you to survive without food on the table without a chance to be well it won’t matter self taught lies when problems are in real life and you're not allowed yourself
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Jan 23, 2025
Jan 23, 2025 at 7:24 PM UTC
crowns
To be able to talk to And through This paper with a pen Has been A god send Not letting me break, But letting me bend Allowing me to mend, Both my mangled heart and broken spirit, Like a good friend ©2024
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Sep 4, 2024
Sep 4, 2024 at 2:39 PM UTC
~•§•~ A Good Friend ~•§•~
There's a pleading tone to this question I battle before and after I ask A not so simple, "why can't I just let the past be the past?" I know at first glance, I'm nothing more than moth in a trance Pinging off the same piece of backlit display glass An abused mind easily transfixed, statue still and steadfast While running summer Olympic qualifying fast, all gass Feet growing roots, interlocking with blades of grass A introspective narrative of an internal impasse ©2024
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May 29, 2024
May 29, 2024 at 3:56 PM UTC
~•§•~ At First Glance ~•§•~
Given a hand to go hand in hand in the park Only allowed to be enjoyed in the dark And as I curse the idea of an always present silver lining I notice it to be easier to witness the splendor of our spark ©2025
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Apr 30, 2024
Apr 30, 2024 at 6:22 AM UTC
~•§•~ It's Always There ~•§•~
Live a short while Then say to me Where you are your sight enjoys what it sees Year after year passes Doesn't seem so bad Until you compare the good memories once had Life seems to darken and get worse Your road forks Becomes a haunting curse My love it does not matter the choice of your direction Explore the world Every road holds imperfection In awhile you will discover if you haven't by now Happiness more than Earth will allow
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Jan 27, 2021
Jan 27, 2021 at 9:58 AM UTC
No Happiness Allowed
Stop gold digging now Rich with treasure already She is pure diamond
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Dec 12, 2020
Dec 12, 2020 at 12:37 AM UTC
No Gold Digging Allowed (Haiku)
your DNA is wild so please, take care of your inner child you may pass some challenging phases although people don’t want you to grow in certain places so grow through concrete in the middle of the street grow in a litter bin grow from dirt grow in different directions grow with imperfections because your roots are strong and you aim up high until you reach the sky so grow in every angle you want to because there’s a wildflower in you. - gio
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Nov 8, 2020
Nov 8, 2020 at 1:09 PM UTC
wild flower
God saw it He allowed it He is always here by my side. Cynthia Jean copyright 2.8.2020
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Feb 9, 2020
Feb 9, 2020 at 12:36 AM UTC
My Life
If they tell you, Make it pretty Make it nice Be subtle and precise   Shiny but not too bright Smile then laugh, but don’t snort - Not ladylike One more thing... don’t cry, Black streaks will ruin your attire. You can tell them, OR I can make it pretty and loud Assertive and proud Ladylike if I like   Be boisterous if I must I can dress it up, dress it down Twirl and dance around   Show my tears to the crowd And then laugh because that’s life Also,           I can snort, that’s allowed!
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May 2, 2019
May 2, 2019 at 9:47 PM UTC
You can Snort
I used to tell myself that I was never a pretty girl I allowed someone's opinion clout my world I doubted everything I could do I allowed someone's thought influence me too Only now: I am confident wearing my flaws From head to toe, I know I have it all I know I'm not perfect but, I indeed have great skills To all those before, you no longer have the power of my wills
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Mar 29, 2019
Mar 29, 2019 at 10:02 PM UTC
Former Self
I don't understand why destiny allowed some people to meet when there's no way for them to be together.
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Dec 3, 2018
Dec 3, 2018 at 9:52 AM UTC
Why
Tell me what you expected All the stress became too much I thought I was strong enough to handle Sadness breaking when we touch The memories are tainted now Frame after frame, pictures taken Showing same smiles we've always had But looking back pain awakens Can't help but pick apart each scene Stare at our frozen expressions Trying to figure what really went on After burning fateful make-out sessions I guess I will never know Probably less agony that way Think I rub salt into my own wounds Reopen them every dreaded day Haven't I suffered enough? Accepted much heartache at your hand? Never thought we would be here today I don't expect you to understand It was my fault you thought I wouldn't leave Allowed you to push me aside, disjoint Of course you were sure I'd stay forever But each person has a breaking point
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Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 5:50 PM UTC
I Am Leaving Tonight
Though thine two grown former babes in crib age, now lead checkered lives, no longer monopolize my time as though their persons went backstage either one embracing, judging, and negotiating positive chutes and ladders with courage evoking glee this papa helped both beautiful lasses avoid being risk averse navigating life with minimal damage though to get ahead of the class, (asper the eldest Eden Liat) credit karma fairly and squarely attributed to herself with encourage meant from this papa, who oft time felt he lacked any clue akin to a hobbled battleship left to drift at sea, whence, upon landfall sub sequent lee forced to forage in a foreign dominion (akin to being among Settlers of Catan), plus devoid of instruments to gauge, an optimal strategic operation, thus figuratively groping in the dark (unaware of a brewing twister) guided by blind faith doth admit saying sorry, but apologetic homage would disqualify thyself, a "FAKE" mastermind undeserving of just desserts, unfairly via diktat plucking sweet treats awash within Candy Land, a deceptive image entrancing, luring and, spellbinding ultimately incurring trouble, particularly when Shana Aubrey (younger by about twenty six months) garnered lion's share of parental attention necessitated mandatory intervention due to language skills, plus pronounced developmental delay, where supreme social service sages gentle massage wrought divine prestidigitation as one after another case worker did overencourage to counteract congenital cognitive setback (coalesced in utero), now finds das dada envious (cuz, aye got mired, hogtied, and bogged down with obsessive compulsive trivial pursuit, hence warrant so lucky as thee Punim) steers ship shape body electric round her uncharted cerebral cape of good hope passage.
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Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 11:00 AM UTC
Paternal Misgivings Linger...
Though thine two grown former babes in crib age, now lead checkered lives, no longer monopolize my time as though their persons went backstage either one embracing, judging, and negotiating positive chutes and ladders with courage evoking glee this papa helped both beautiful lasses avoid being risk averse navigating life with minimal damage though to get ahead of the class, (asper the eldest Eden Liat) credit karma fairly and squarely attributed to herself with encourage meant from this papa, who oft time felt he lacked any clue akin to a hobbled battleship left to drift at sea, whence, upon landfall sub sequent lee forced to forage in a foreign dominion (akin to being among Settlers of Catan), plus devoid of instruments to gauge, an optimal strategic operation, thus figuratively groping in the dark (unaware of a brewing twister) guided by blind faith doth admit saying sorry, but apologetic homage would disqualify thyself, a "FAKE" mastermind undeserving of just desserts, unfairly via diktat plucking sweet treats awash within Candy Land, a deceptive image entrancing, luring and, spellbinding ultimately incurring trouble, particularly when Shana Aubrey (younger by about twenty six months) garnered lion's share of parental attention necessitated mandatory intervention due to language skills, plus pronounced developmental delay, where supreme social service sages gentle massage wrought divine prestidigitation as one after another case worker did overencourage to counteract congenital cognitive setback (coalesced in utero), now finds das dada envious (cuz, aye got mired, hogtied, and bogged down with obsessive compulsive trivial pursuit, hence warrant so lucky as thee Punim) steers ship shape body electric round her uncharted cerebral cape of good hope passage.
Continue reading...
62
A written account (that incorporates some self directed hyperbole) of this veritable stranger now appears before your screen. Soon after reading this message, the neighbors might discern a blood curdling series of (hyena-like) shrieking screams. No worry. That would be the mating call of the hairy Harris mama bear. Ready! Set! Click! A scary reflection greets me whenever I summon up enough steely courage to take a sneak peek into the mirror. Before spider lines start to appear across the shiny surface and subsequent cracks and fissures dissolve the glassy surface these deux hazel colored, myopic be spectacled eyes quickly absorb a most frightful countenance and visage. That near legendary and trademark feature of longish, wavy and brown straggly hair seems to fill the entire view. Hidden among avant garde rhapsodic bohemian, Cro-Magnon, Neolithic, non-every-man style of un-styled non dread full locks (interspersed with silver follicles indicative of acquired worry fighting off garden variety prehistoric creature) can be discerned a brutish, nasty and short proto-human with high forehead, which allows, enables and provides more skin surface to bang against wall when frustrated. My somewhat outsize ears and longish neck (I swear exist, which contrary to popular myth never seen by living persons) support this egg shaped (fried or scrambled some might argue) head. A mostly flat and hairless chest attests to a regular regimen of light (self-concocted) chest-pounding routine. Exercise (as well as meditation) a vital part of my daily program to deal with the ordinary stresses of primitive existence. Coffee happens to be the sotto voce sole vice, which exotic brews provide helpful jump-start. I sometimes even chump on cup kept teeth sharp. That unproductive habit came to a screeching halt after breaking every pearly white. Now to that locale known as the trumpeting **** pull stilts skin. Although the unseen forces of biology and genetics dealt me an itsy bitsy, tiny ***** (which serves as the but for fellow Apes to taunt and tease) such anatomical feature offers little value as the worthiness of ****** prowess. This palm pilot sized gluteus Maximus offers one benefit. Ease to squeeze into tight spaces without getting stuck. This tiny ***** accompanied by a vestigial and teeny-weensy ****** schnitzel of a phallus, which undersized **** a doodle do doth bulge into an erectile state within shooting distance of coveted warm, wet and wooly private world property of each and every woman. A pair of skinny (flamingo like) legs (covered in adequate hair) now completes this general character sketch.
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Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 4:52 PM UTC
High Purr Billy Biography Sketch
A written account (that incorporates some self directed hyperbole) of this veritable stranger now appears before your screen. Soon after reading this message, the neighbors might discern a blood curdling series of (hyena-like) shrieking screams. No worry. That would be the mating call of the hairy Harris mama bear. Ready! Set! Click! A scary reflection greets me whenever I summon up enough steely courage to take a sneak peek into the mirror. Before spider lines start to appear across the shiny surface and subsequent cracks and fissures dissolve the glassy surface these deux hazel colored, myopic be spectacled eyes quickly absorb a most frightful countenance and visage. That near legendary and trademark feature of longish, wavy and brown straggly hair seems to fill the entire view. Hidden among avant garde rhapsodic bohemian, Cro-Magnon, Neolithic, non-every-man style of un-styled non dread full locks (interspersed with silver follicles indicative of acquired worry fighting off garden variety prehistoric creature) can be discerned a brutish, nasty and short proto-human with high forehead, which allows, enables and provides more skin surface to bang against wall when frustrated. My somewhat outsize ears and longish neck (I swear exist, which contrary to popular myth never seen by living persons) support this egg shaped (fried or scrambled some might argue) head. A mostly flat and hairless chest attests to a regular regimen of light (self-concocted) chest-pounding routine. Exercise (as well as meditation) a vital part of my daily program to deal with the ordinary stresses of primitive existence. Coffee happens to be the sotto voce sole vice, which exotic brews provide helpful jump-start. I sometimes even chump on cup kept teeth sharp. That unproductive habit came to a screeching halt after breaking every pearly white. Now to that locale known as the trumpeting **** pull stilts skin. Although the unseen forces of biology and genetics dealt me an itsy bitsy, tiny ***** (which serves as the but for fellow Apes to taunt and tease) such anatomical feature offers little value as the worthiness of ****** prowess. This palm pilot sized gluteus Maximus offers one benefit. Ease to squeeze into tight spaces without getting stuck. This tiny ***** accompanied by a vestigial and teeny-weensy ****** schnitzel of a phallus, which undersized **** a doodle do doth bulge into an erectile state within shooting distance of coveted warm, wet and wooly private world property of each and every woman. A pair of skinny (flamingo like) legs (covered in adequate hair) now completes this general character sketch.
Continue reading...
58
debating whether i am allowed to go out of the house at 8pm or not “because i might get ***** debating whether i am allowed to wear that skirt that goes little above my knees or not “because i might get ***** debating whether i am allowed to meet up with a guy or not “because i might get ***** debating whether i am allowed to stay at my friends house when they have older brothers or not “because i might get ***** debating whether i am allowed to go on a school trip or not “because i might get ***** Do you see this? Do you see the reason they give for a woman to not do certain things? **** How can we live in this world peacefully when we have to fear for our lives almost every moment
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Jan 3, 2018
Jan 3, 2018 at 3:10 PM UTC
**** culture
*Umm...hey May I ask, If I even dare to, Is it okay If I touch you?... No, No... What are you Thinking? I didn't mean it Like that... I just want To stroke your cheek, Pat your back Or something Like that... Ehh...? It's really okay? Well then... I won't Hold back... I said As I let my fingers Run through your hair Man...it's soft Just like a newborn's... I stroked your cheek While looking Into your eyes And suddenly I Found myself blushing... Why was it That I wanted To touch you? And why do I always smile When I'm near you?... The truth hit me Like a lightning bolt Finally after years I discovered That I was In love... I'm still looking Into your eyes And I feel that I Had a raise In my body temperature... Longing to touch you This time In a not so decent way I looked once more Into your eyes And then I said... Umm...hey Can I touch you?... And if possible Can you touch me too?... And is it okay If I tell you That I Love you...? Can we whisper Soft words To each other And never let go Of each others hands?... Can we become Old together?... Just like the relationship You have With your minivan?... But right now Let's not speak About the future Let's just focus On the here and now And just enjoy Each other.... 'Cause all That I want to do Right now Is to touch you And feel your touch On me too... So I'll ask you Once more Is it okay If I touch you?...*
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Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 11:00 AM UTC
May I Touch You?...
In our life people come and go, that's true. But sometimes we're the one who come, the one who go. It could be also the one who let go... Not until the time I'm allowed to stay in your life again, let me say this phrase "arigatou sayonara :) "
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Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 10:03 PM UTC
Sayonara
I am allowed to hate you. I am allowed to spit your name out of my mouth. I am allowed to cry acid tears. I am allowed to guard my heart. I am allowed to not speak to you for years. I am allowed to drink more than I should. I am allowed to miss you, still. But what I am not allowed to do, what I will never be allowed to do is think that I am not allowed to find love again.
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Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 3:22 PM UTC
eventually
The Puppeteers Master Controlling all his strings All his movements All his thoughts But never the Puppeteers Puppets The Puppeteers Puppets Being controlled by the already controlled Their strings tugging and pulling To be free To be honest to themselves The Puppeteer Stuck in between Never allowed freedom Never giving freedom But always thinking About what it'd be like Being the ultimate Master of everyone else
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Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 3:10 PM UTC
The Puppeteers Master
So when my dreams came true When I got everything I wanted, I was overcome with joy. Because desire isn't wrong & You are allowed to be wildly happy by being uncommonly blessed.
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May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 5:21 PM UTC
Not Lucky