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Iska Jul 2019
for the last couple years of my life,
I’ve lost my sense of color,
Vibrance has blurred into nothingness

I let myself forget
That there was ever any color
to begin with.

And as I made the motions
Of a living human being
Moving through my white washed life
I forgot I only had one life left.

That this white washed life
Will one day be,

My white washed tomb.

That I was living six feet above
And will one day lay down six feet below
I had even looked forward to it.

But this vibrance did exist
I had just forgotten how to look for it
as a child
The world was painted
by the artists that came before.

How did I forget?
How could I forget?
How could I let
This vibrance blur into nothingness?
  Jun 2019 Iska
Nevaeh Lynn
Clawing at my throat
I am.
I cant seem to breathe. But somehow
I am
I couldn't stop the crying but now
I am
And im okay
I am
Im not still clawing
Im not.
Iska May 2019
there once was a girl born with a fire heart.
it danced beneath the layers of her skin,
burning so brilliantly
you could see the flames blazing within.

when she saw the monsters
lurking within the darkness,
hunting those with no light to burn
this little girl gave them her flames.

and for once,
the world was burst into a brilliant light.
it pulsed and danced across the stars
with the potential to burn away the endless darkness

but what this foolish girl had yet to understand
was that there was only so much of your fire heart
that you can give away before you are left with
nothing but simmering embers inside.

on her knees she was smiling,
seeing all that her fire has saved.


only to be burned with her own flames.


she has out lived her purpose
so they left her to be devoured
by the very monsters
she had protected them from.

only to realize that these monsters
weren't nearly as bad as the ones
who now walked away with her flames.
Iska May 2019
I am not your number one
And that is ok
I have accepted this
As my fate
Inescapable
You see,

I...
will never come first.

And that’s ok.

When I tell you I love you more than anything,
You will never reply the same.

And that’s ok.

I will never be your first

And that’s ok

It’s ok.
It’s ok.
It’s ok.

Her smile will forever make you day

And that’s ok
(I wouldn’t love you as much as I do if it didn’t anyway)

She is your purpose for living

And that’s ok
(I wouldn’t love you as much as I do if she wasn’t anyway)

Her laugh is your most precious thing

And that’s ok
(I wouldn’t love you as much as I do if it wasn’t anyway)

It’s ok.
It’s ok.
It’s ok.

She will always be your brightest sun

And that’s ok

She will always be the first

And that’s ok

I will never even be the fourth

And that’s ok

It’s ok.
It’s ok.
It’s ok.

It really is.
I swear to god that it’s ok
I love you all the more for it
And I wouldn’t have it any other way

But at night....

When loneliness seeps into my bones

And monsters hiss into my ears


Reminding me that I am not your first
That I... have never been anyone’s first and most important person


That I have never deserved it

And that I will never even be your fourth.

And that’s ok.

It’s ok.
It’s ok.
It’s ok.

But at night...


With loneliness bleeding through my soul.

I can’t help but wonder...

What it would be like.

To at least once


be first
To someone
To anyone

Because I have never been anybody’s number one.

Never been put first

Not even by myself.

And I never will be.



And that’s ok.


It’s ok.
It’s ok.
It’s ok.

Because when the sun is out.
I love you all the more for it
I don’t regret it.
I do not envy it.
I love you all the more for it

And it’s all truly ok.

It’s ok
It’s ok
It’s ok

But at night


With loneliness swallowing me whole

I can’t help but wonder

Why I

Will never

Be enough


To ever

Be first


Or even

Simply fourth.
  May 2019 Iska
The Concrete Poet
I am but
one star
in the
universe
that you
deserve.
I am but
a rain's
puddle
when
it is
the ocean
that you
need to
swim in.
Wish
upon me.
Dance
and jump
within me.
I long
to be
enough
for thee.



written by me... ..
Iska May 2019
I hate that I am eating.
I hate every bite, every swallow.
I hate every taste, every wrapper.
I hate the bile that raises in the back of my throat every time
I try to consume food.
I am so so very sick of it all.
So sick of needing to be high to even want to eat.
So sick of the feeling of being full
And I hate my need to be rid of it.
Of trying to force it to stay down
But secretly wishing that my ***** will drown me.
I hate myself when I do *****.
But I hate myself so much more when I don’t.
But they say I’m pretty
But they say I’m better
So why is it so hard
When every swallow is burning me alive
And every ***** makes me a liar.
And every skipped meal makes me a coward.
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