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#selfidentity
there's literature hanging in the air right now but i have a stuffed nose and what more can this mouth engulf in a disgusting way. I had dreams. Merry should i say but they attach themselves to the literature right now because i have a stuffy nose and can't breathe. All the passions, pleasing, socialization attaches themselves to the literature as it is in the air right now. Do they all love literature just as much as me or are they mocking me for the stuffy nose? because i sure remember smells of those whose enticement ran through my veins and spilled from my finger tips. They were enchanted by the world yet they all hang in the air now. Dense air which slowly cripples my eye sight. Have the air not known of situation i am poised in? Why would it know? Its air. Air. Air. Air. Its so unfair. I believe the air must be the one who floated the literature up. Or else why would it be hanging? That dense air mocks me for having ocean tides on my body, for the vast difference in our size, for the way i move slow compared to it and now it holds my every array of hope. There's literature hanging in the air now, Yet the air sickens me so i think literature loathes to be with me.
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Sep 20, 2025
Sep 20, 2025 at 8:58 AM UTC
Literature (or is it?)
Float Watch from behind Back to the front I was never there Your perspective His/her? So unlikely They’re alike Who am I?
0
Sep 7, 2022
Sep 7, 2022 at 4:33 PM UTC
Untitled
I am who I make myself to be, and nothing else. The strange voices tell me otherwise, but I know that they're not real - they never have. No one is born liking themselves, nor is anyone born hating themselves either. I understand this better now.
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Jul 16, 2020
Jul 16, 2020 at 4:24 PM UTC
Who am I?
whether I try to identify as a girl or a boy in any way the only thing consistent for me to identify with seems to be lonely
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Jan 8, 2020
Jan 8, 2020 at 8:56 AM UTC
self-identity
I have dyed my hair a lot of colors- It has been red with anger, A statement of rage; symbol of fire, I spent my days with my head in the sink Putting out my hot-headed thinking Choking on red water And my own way of breathing, When I was tugged on like a false alarm Meaningless, and loud A vibrant call for help And I wore it proud It has been blue with calm dignity, When the days were easier, When happiness was free I remember how quickly the blue bled to green That was okay with me, I loved music and breathing, And drinking beers on city streets I was colorful graffiti It was more of a fleeting feeling Of matching the sky and the sea Back when I wanted the world To look at me It has been violet in the violent hours, I remember magenta showers And tear stained smoke breaks When the city never slept, always awake Humming with the traffic on the freeway In a car with friends and a future before us Though my skin was a tight blanket- I felt a smile beneath a purple forest Where happiness tugged on my cheeks And I wanted to believe in everything Everyone believed in me, too It has been black on the silent days Somewhere between indecision And bad taste; a dark fate Suffocating beneath a blank sheet While I was recollecting The lost and bleak pieces of me That were almost swallowing me whole I almost fell into the black hole I painted myself as It is much too dark now, For the colors I so loved They won’t be coming back But lately, I returned to my natural state To see how the brown curls will fall Like branches on my growing shoulders, Going back to my roots, No more drowning myself in bathroom sinks Looking for myself at the bottom In colors that could not define me I am sorry to myself for hiding Who I am supposed to be All those colors will always exist In some place inside of me But I wonder what my new colors Will be
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Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 5:01 AM UTC
(Untitled))
I have dyed my hair a lot of colors- It has been red with anger, A statement of rage; symbol of fire, I spent my days with my head in the sink Putting out my hot-headed thinking Choking on red water And my own way of breathing, When I was tugged on like a false alarm Meaningless, and loud A vibrant call for help And I wore it proud It has been blue with calm dignity, When the days were easier, When happiness was free I remember how quickly the blue bled to green That was okay with me, I loved music and breathing, And drinking beers on city streets I was colorful graffiti It was more of a fleeting feeling Of matching the sky and the sea Back when I wanted the world To look at me It has been violet in the violent hours, I remember magenta showers And tear stained smoke breaks When the city never slept, always awake Humming with the traffic on the freeway In a car with friends and a future before us Though my skin was a tight blanket- I felt a smile beneath a purple forest Where happiness tugged on my cheeks And I wanted to believe in everything Everyone believed in me, too It has been black on the silent days Somewhere between indecision And bad taste; a dark fate Suffocating beneath a blank sheet While I was recollecting The lost and bleak pieces of me That were almost swallowing me whole I almost fell into the black hole I painted myself as It is much too dark now, For the colors I so loved They won’t be coming back But lately, I returned to my natural state To see how the brown curls will fall Like branches on my growing shoulders, Going back to my roots, No more drowning myself in bathroom sinks Looking for myself at the bottom In colors that could not define me I am sorry to myself for hiding Who I am supposed to be All those colors will always exist In some place inside of me But I wonder what my new colors Will be
Continue reading...
59
why do i question myself? i sit on the bus and wonder who am i? and why am i here? the answer seems so simple but my brain is a full trap now. these simple questions are now caught and who knows when they'll be free.
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May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 8:21 AM UTC
?
I've never been good with words Each thought is from lyrics heard Losing myself in every piece Till they all become a part of me Or am I these things I've never written? Only ideas that stir from somewhere hidden Inside my own head, trapped, as my mouth works silently Trying to speak, violently I wonder what it's like to be somebody else How hard is it to think for one's self? I'm back at this familiar place Yet nothing ever feels the same Nothing ever feels the same Have I just become you? I've idolized everything you do Every syllable you sing, From the sound of your voice to your eyes shining. My obsession is me My obsession is me And I must say, It feels so good to be so lost.
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Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 8:39 PM UTC
Obsession
I miss the days Of innocence Of confidence Before the realization I ever needed anyone. Or maybe I never did, But you stole it all away. And you. And you. There's nothing to "go back to." I've only got to starve on this meal plan of Self-love, self-healing, greening and green. I miss the days Where I was something Felt something. I was so young. Do we all die, Or was it just you? And you? And you?
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Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 12:04 AM UTC
There is only history
fire. a burning flame, full of wrath and hatred, holding grudges against people who loved you the most. water. flooding water pouring through streets, pouring down cheeks, as you curled yourself into a ball, reassuring yourself you’d be okay. air. a calm, sweet wind, moved trees and sent the scent of flowers to your lungs, calming you as you took a long, slow breath. earth the cool, soft earth that you dig your nails in, holding on tighter than imagined, and you wondered, how could you lose yourself?
0
Dec 8, 2017
Dec 8, 2017 at 12:40 PM UTC
elements
who am I? I am who? when asked such a question, the first thing one may think of is the place where they were given life, as culture is linked to identity. however, it is not the case, nor does it involve one's namesake. instead, it focuses on the person as a whole their value and their purpose for this time being life involuntarily places us in positions that lead to questioning the self. yet, it is through such inquiries that we learn to answer this question.
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Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 10:07 PM UTC
who am I?