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 Dec 2019 Cat
Christain Justina
HIM
 Dec 2019 Cat
Christain Justina
HIM
He was imperfect
He was young
She loved him
She was crazy
She wasn’t so pretty
He loved her

He had doubts
He had challenges
She loved him
She was naïve
She was carefree
He loved her

He was smart
He was cute
She loved him
She got brains
She had talent
He loved her

He lied
He cheated
She loved him
He became rude
He was difficult
She loved him

He was scared
He was reckless
She cared
He was arrogant
He was insensitive
She was hurt

He ignored her
He hurt her more
She became different
He cheated more
He cheated carelessly
She ignored him

He became scarce
He cut off ties
She survived
He was addicted
He was pitiful
She had empathy

He fell
She brought him up
He got sick
She nursed him to health
She slipped
He didn’t catch her
He got into trouble
She turned her back on him

He wanted her back
She didn’t
It was too late
She felt nothing for him

She was,
A diamond he got
She was,
A diamond he lost
 Sep 2019 Cat
ATL
though with due reverence
i kiss the graves of dead poets-

the breathing kind must disassemble an atom to gain a fleck of praise.

no i don’t like it when they say
“i let you hurt me”

try:

please
treat me to porridge filled with kerosene
and rebar,

i’ll let you
drag a razor across my gums

if you kiss those fickle carmine streaks
that dribble from my tongue every time
i find the audacity to speak to you,

tint me,
tint me with spit and break me into cannon fodder,
princess

i know that mirrors
and **** pipes are real,
cobwebs too.
 Sep 2019 Cat
ATL
right now i despise everything i’ve ever written

looking through the stories
of a million untold lives.

i feel my words
as hideous black mixtures;

foolish curves and games of association.

let me
paint them on your eyelids,

and build another sorry ideal
to taunt myself with in the twilight.
 Aug 2019 Cat
atticus wilson
Nine months
That’s when society says
“Hope you know what you want to do with your life.”
And throws you out into the world
I have no plan
I don’t know ****
And I’m afraid
 Jul 2019 Cat
CataclysticEvent
I think what hurt the most
Wasn't the fall.
Or the crash landing.
It was getting up
To witness the wreckage I'd created
On my way down.
 Jul 2019 Cat
uncommon decadent
In her room
On her bed
She was the rising sun
Autumnal oranges with hints of red
Dancing on the walls
Psychedelic kisses
Nothing is as perfect as this is

Though the sun always sets
Evening regrets
A thousand shades of pink
Ultraviolent violets filling the sky
All painted black eventually
Apart from the speckled starlight

The cold of the deep night
As souls are sleeping
Breathing in 4/4 time
A common time signature for common people

Then there's the stragglers and delinquents
Bar room brawlers and disgruntled infants
I believe they call those bar room brawlers
Although I'm not so witty
And not pretty enough for anyone to care


She hangs pictures of her and her friends
On a board above the desk
Happier times with wild smiles
Dressed in Sunday best
I feel so sad and sickened
That I was all she had now
In this strange town

Her shoes of English leather
That matched my soul that matches the English Weather
An obvious blend of grey and petrichor
My reflection in inconvenient puddles on the floor
I suppose that was me before

I don't know if it means anything
Is it meant to mean anything?
Why does love seem like everything?
It's all just one big comedy
Or was it a tragedy?
Or are they both dancing in moonlight
And crying with laughter
As we pretend it's all alright?

I thought I had things to say
But I never want to say them
I don't know if they're true
I don't know what to do
I think I wanted to say them once
But every time I see you
Things feel different
But I thought we got on well
I wonder if you'll read this
Or if it will die in the back of a book
Left on the shelf

I know this is hard to read
Forgive me
I never kept a diary
I have no order
And I could never colour between the lines.
How many references? I don't know.
 Jul 2019 Cat
Aubrey
young girls and women stay in toxic, unhealthy relationships because they think it’s love.
we call getting scolded in public for walking too fast love.
when we hear “you’re not going out in that, you want attention” we think, “wow, he thinks i’m so beautiful, i’m so in love, he wants me all for himself.”
no. he’s not being protective and he’s not in love or he would proudly hold your hand with a smile on his face, but more importantly a smile on your face down that sidewalk and not worry about whether your shirt came up a little too much past your belly button or if your shorts were too short, who cares? you thought. but you change because you think he loves you.
but you shouldn’t be tugging at your shirt the next time you wear it out again, you shouldn’t be throwing those shorts away because of a man who doesn’t know what love is.
laughter and bliss is the medicine. you both would agree.
so forced happiness and smiles is what the world sees. you know that.
fake social media posts about how their man treats them so good and it doesn’t get better than him and how they are so happy, the happiest they’ve ever been. so so happy.
the people closest to you see otherwise.
i know those songs will remind you of him, i know how long it took you to put together a playlist, knowing he wouldn’t appreciate it as much as you would have liked him to. i know that scent you smelled reminded you of him and that certain time of the year is painful because that’s where it all started.
you and him.
the chaos.
hurt people hurt people.
you both poke and say the things knowing it’s gonna hurt there.
you use words like weapons until one day, the hurtful stinging words aren’t enough.
your arms are pulling back, ready to punch, hit, whatever is spitting out those disgusting words.
then you both realize..
the person who you thought was your protecter, your friend, a role model, is none of those things.
they want to see you cry because then they know, they are in control.
that can shape you and form you into whatever they want.
you let them because you think it’s love.
to the girl wondering why she isn’t enough, to the girl crying off her leftover mascara from last nights arguments.
to the girl who thinks she will never find better because she’s convinced she is so in love with a boy who will replace her the next time she walks out because her instincts tell her to.
he doesn’t love you.
he will say he’s only human and everybody make mistakes.
he’s not love.
your gut is trying to tell you that you are not happy.
please listen.
those moments of anger are going to keep happening.
he will do more and more to hurt you and he knows he can because you let it happen.
you let it happen.
nobody is left to feel bad for you anymore.
because in the end, you let it happen.
this is a sign you need to walk away, i know there were some happy moments, full of laughter but remember how he never wiped your tears away or how he kept doing the one thing you said not to do. how he yelled so loud knowing you hate loud noises because they remind you of the painful times. how he made you do the things you didn’t want to do. how you thought you were saving a falling angel but you didn’t see how the demons were smiling at your cracking heart when you leaned in for a make up hug...
how he left your soul cold.
remember the nights when you couldn’t fall asleep because you knew he was getting over you and it killed a little piece of your heart.
you kept killing your heart and now you’re scared of letting your fragile walls down for someone else but you don’t wanna know someone else.
to the girl with tears in her eyes looking at a phone screen reading this
take a deep breath.
leave.
don’t look back.
stick to loving yourself until someone that knows how to love, that is capable of true love comes to save you from your suffering.
you will find love,
heal yourself.
find yourself.
to me:
read this again please,
and remember the hurt.
A.
leave and stick to it.
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