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Bree17 Apr 6
Dried brown grasses creep around - empty breezes blow
Rest now, for your time has come - as life will persist
A silence has fallen now - the slate has reset
All must die to be reborn - as is nature’s course
imayo
Bree17 Apr 4
I realized today
that the world never stopped moving
and now understand I truly am living
and I have been growing old
while pretending I don't even
exist.

today my father walked on over
calm as can be
while I busied up with the dishes
distracted by my thoughts

I didn't notice at first
what he was here for or what he was doing

so I felt cheated when I watched as he
pick up the elf on the shelf,
without me being granted time
to mentally prepare

he grabbed it by it's little arm,
his fingers touching it's magical flesh  
ever so casually, ever so calm.
as he rendered it's magic nonexistent.


I was always taught not to meddle
that it was almost a sin
to fiddle with an elf
and to ruin it's purity and ability


and obviously I knew the truth,
I open my mind years back.
I've known since the fifth grade,
when the kids there called me names
for believing in magic.

For being  
so
s t u p i d.

that's when I learned that age ruins all things good
and that imagination made you foolish.

but still,
****.
I guess my childhood really is dead now
and he knows it too.
I wrote it over Christmas but never posted it
  Apr 1 Bree17
Nobody
i'm breathing fast
i'm seeing the past
things i don't want to remember
hit me like a blast

anxiety rising
breath denying
i'm hearing their words
i feel like i'm dying

their words hit me like a stab
i crunch like a crab
that they stepped on
i feel a jab

words bleed out of my chest
as i remember what i don't want to
i'm not ready
wait... just let me

try
to
forget
  Apr 1 Bree17
Kaiden
You're like a safety pin.
Holding onto life for me
When i no longer can.
To this one special person.
There was
no madness…
Yet some call
us lovers
“mad”…

Love can
drive you up
your own walls
and ceilings.
Left roped
and hung
by your own
broken heart
strings—

Sometimes,
Love leaves
the lonely—
Mad Lovers,
behind for
dead…
A line I read from a book I've been reading for english class called Circe by Madeline Miller. I thought of writing a poem.
Piled up poems,
letters left in one
dark corner of the
library garden—
Alone…

Heart’s tangled in
sharp thorns from
wherever I go,
where the cold
moon blooms—

Piled up poems,
buried beneath
the silent sun,
wilting faster than
a daisy’s death—
Unread…
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