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i stare outside my bedroom window 12:42am wondering where my soul has gone, my personality, my hope. instead of organs I carry inside me burdens of ex lovers, of mistakes, of abuse, i remember when I use to shine the brightest. it is so hard to see when you are blinded amidst tear gas people pushing and shoving black holes for eyes, no hearts in sight i wish to one day repair them. i wish one day to repair myself it seems to be an impossible task a momentary relapse of heart ache, of bleeding arms and bleeding legs a momentary relapse of euphoria and then down again we go it hurts when all you can do is sit around and wait for someone to clean the wounds just to tear them open with their teeth once again. dad, did you do it again? slide in your poison- did you think you could ever own me? mom, did you do it again? pump your fears, your dreams, your failures into my blood, my soul, my slow beating heart? i can't seem to go on anymore. how am I suppose to love when the birthmarks on my arms are really scars, when the holes in my chest are past heart breaks, sleep breaks, smoke breaks, coke brakes, **** brakes how am I suppose to love? the snow covers an icy cold blanket around my mind, freezing all the bad and good thoughts and suddenly everything goes black.
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Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 10:15 PM UTC
go on.
black or white, the ideology is often grey! lost or abandoned, chosen or forgotten, runner or drag-racer, the empty bucket, the data forms, the Pyreness of their love; the cry of an unbroken heart; the little laughter of an innocent one, perception abound, intelligence incorruptible gentility, a mistaken identity. the roaming panda, the separation that is youth. it's both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so deeply. time makes more converts than reason; and the children suffer the wrathful inklings.
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May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 6:54 PM UTC
The Children of the Old.
I've always had A special connection With writing; I've never actively Had to search for The right words, They've always just Come to me Like bees drawn to nectar, To produce the sweetest honey
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Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 7:54 AM UTC
Sweet poetry
I am staring At the same sky I was staring at last year, Listening to the same birds I was listening to last year Waiting for the same sunset As I wait for this year But the difference is Everything seemed so empty Last year Because I didn't know you
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Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 7:56 AM UTC
Last year
What? Two Hours and i’m trying to put my immense feelings on papers..and i failed… Looking at the picture that took my breath away…. Reading the spilled words, feelings were stolen from me and i was hypnotised… Literary paralysed and shaken… Literary living in the wold of spirituality that i left long time ago… Literary i’m living in my exile …. Literary I’m seen… I saw her Completing her process, and everything in me hold me back from keeping the secret inside me…. Everything in me, get angry of my “Shy” and shut my “Shyness” off and said the truth that I saw her soul!! The first fear was the tear i was about to see… The first “Freak out” was the face turing to red! The pain was to hurt someone i care about? I saw all those things and i felt the pain inside me! I’ve heard the voice saying inside “Why did you so?” I told her “ I’m sorry” I can’t help it? and i should say that… I should tell her You have been seen I Saw you! 13-4-2015
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Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 10:40 PM UTC
What!