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 Apr 2018 julia
phoebe fructuoso
I don't care if you're a storm
I'd stand through all your thunder and rains.

I’d pick you over sunshine any day.
August 2017
 Apr 2018 julia
thepoeticwit
"**** it"
no
I refuted

I said,
"Bless it"

The world is enough a hell to be ******
Why curse it further?
a mini-work
 Apr 2018 julia
Ally Gottesman
Star.
 Apr 2018 julia
Ally Gottesman
When I was younger, I used to think I was going to be a Star.
Under a spotlight where everyone knew my name...
I was five.

Now, I want shadows and to be as far away as possible.
Hidden and far from consequence,
And even further from myself.
Where my name is not a name,
But just another word without any true meaning.

When I was younger, I used to think I was going to be a Star.
Now, I want to disappear.

I should have jumped overboard when I had the chance.
 Apr 2018 julia
yúyīn
Tired..
 Apr 2018 julia
yúyīn
JJsbdksndkkdmxmjshJustletmediemmmkbhbxjdnxnbdjxbdnxnnxnxnImsotire­dofthisnsjs nkksbdndnbdthese tears wontstopjdjdnn znjsnndudndkdknfkdmssnfnjdndnndbdbdbdnWhythepainstilllivesin myheartjjxnxjxjdn mykdjdvjsndjcjndndncnxkxnkxndkdkjdnskxhjshdjddndeImsofuckingtired­msnndksnxonshxidnkxndjsjdbjdkslmsndjjdbdisbdjjdksndjdhbsndnndjdjd­ndnd


Youllneverunderstand me
@.**
 Apr 2018 julia
adriana
It just rained
Bullets
Puddles in the streets
Blood
Water falls down
Tears
 Apr 2018 julia
Morgan Brehilt
Sometimes I think of killing myself
How the end would be so nice
How the darkness would swallow me up
And how the numbness would suffice
My need

For all the voices of the feelings
That constantly keep me reeling
To softly slow to a hush
As my brain starts tur-tur-turning into mush

How wonderful it would be
To have that powerful silence
Not even grasshoppers would bother
To wake me

My cells would stop dividing
My brain would stop the lying
Myself would stop denying
What I truly want

But but but
This is just a reckless fantasy
A way to elude one’s own reality

Because as I sit here on the floor
Tears drip drip dropping
I realize there’s those who care for me more
Cherish me more
Love me more
Than I love my own self

The crickets chirp
I put the pills down
 Apr 2017 julia
oni
maybe we dont believe
we're beautiful
because those who have
told us that
have hurt us
 Apr 2017 julia
Abigail Kruke
The still room is filled with people,
Whose held breath, will never tell their stories
And it is,
*deafening.
sometimes silent is violent
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