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#based
If ive ever wanted something, Its you that i have ever wanted! If i wanted love for someone, Its you that i would spill my heart for! If you ever felt this way, Know i always felt for you, My love to you is more than ever, If youll ever love me too?
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Jan 7
Jan 7, 2026 at 9:40 PM UTC
If
i want to stand in torrential storms and scream until my lungs become ash and the rain has eroded the world around me ~who wants to join?
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Dec 2, 2020
Dec 2, 2020 at 1:29 PM UTC
check: [yes] or [no]
By Arcassin B When you were younger there were, times and places we would, come back to when those nights have passed and gone, when you were younger there was, stars and spaces left so, so unheard of but ah, your face never left my mind, And if I ever feel better, just to better waste some time with you, and when you gave me your number, caterpillars hid in their cocoons, And if I ever meant something, to you back when we were younger, can't be based off nothing, when its all over I'll let you know, And if I ever feel better, just to better waste some time with you, and when you gave me your number, Butterflies came from cocoons... When you were younger there were, friends you'd want me to meet, disagreeing with it, I had concerns with this, When you were younger you were, full of life just waiting, for whatever happiness, you thought was waiting for you but, If I ever feel better, just to better waste some time with you, and when you gave me your number, caterpillars hid in their cocoons, And if I ever meant something, to you back when we were younger, can't be based off nothing, when its all over I'll let you know, And if I ever feel better, just to better waste some time with you, and when you gave me your number, Butterflies came from cocoons. ©abpoetry2020
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Mar 6, 2020
Mar 6, 2020 at 1:09 PM UTC
"When You Were Younger Pt.6"
I do not worship nothing Because it's the opposite of something Instead I find only slight praise in those moments When a quiet something new emerges From what I perceive to be But probably isn't Nothing at all
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May 16, 2019
May 16, 2019 at 3:29 PM UTC
How Intuitives Write
Before a breath in, it is there— muggy, swampy, heavenly. Before a barefoot step outside, sweat folds into the skin and won’t let go that time they write about is upon us. Consider this the preface to a 19th summer. Where you sneak around drinking sub-par humid beer, stolen from the forgotten bucket left outside. The June when you finally get to see what all the fuss is about— a sweaty push and pull you’ve wondered about for years. Freedom is before you, released from the shackles of high school, from a love that came too quickly, and refused to leave. get on that train, into that car that you can finally touch; do things with that boy you don’t love. Home has never felt more like home than when you’re on the porch, venturing into a midnight that is dripping with warmth and the knowledge that never again could you feel this young and this old.
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Apr 16, 2019
Apr 16, 2019 at 12:48 AM UTC
19th summer
I am but a rose of beginning green, imprisoned to darkness all day, within a monumental fiend, who covers up the radiance that I want to give away Occasionally a small opening would be sewn into the darkness' fiery grasp and your pure radiance could be shown concealed in a kindhearted mask Share your light with me and for you I will light the way wrapped in an unfamiliar livery prepared for our intimacy till the end of our days We will cross waters on a homebound stretch and become fuel for our endurance, so beautifully etched I'll take my chances, following the sun the garden we grow means that together, we are one Share your light with me, and forever I will stay. my petals can become your livery we need each other, I daresay.
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Jan 31, 2017
Jan 31, 2017 at 8:51 PM UTC
Dear Lorenzo,
I remember the day I told you to go. My heart was in pieces, my chest was heavy, Sometimes I wish That day never happened, because I lied.
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Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 12:07 PM UTC
The Best Lie
Inside I am a furnace . A gun lights up the night from A driver's side window . Rapid fire flashes . Firecrackers . You duck , I doe . Why am I not afraid ? Don't look at the license plate . Just the shiny thing . Your jaw setting , Adrenaline in your veins , You scream . Tell me what it feels like . Maybe I'm insane Or just high . But your name fails me And you are the rest . Yelling with a beer in your hand . I don't need your protection . Inside I am a furnace .   Not afraid in my own neighborhood .
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Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 9:57 PM UTC
Pretty *****
from this distance, the town looked like paper shaped into origami buildings. you could tell that everything has it's own hue of smoke and mirrors, even though all of us are made out of the same material. the buildings were built to fall apart eventually, like a tooth pick and marshmellow tower, and it's all because the fragility of these things we don't notice. we do not notice the frailness of these things because we are desensitied to the idea of things lasting forever. you could see how fake everything has became like a fog enveloping the town from this distance. nobody notices the big picture because the small things are always more difficult to ignore. everything was made of plastic and paper, and the only thing that wasn't fake were the memories behind this town. people don't strain their necks when looking back at this flash frame town. they don't feel the need to. - kra
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Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 11:33 AM UTC
paper houses