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 Nov 2018 Emma
xmxrgxncy
i reread every single piece i wrote about you. it was painful.
i don’t think either of us ever realized how much i cared about you. or that you probably never read them or cared or reciprocated or will even read this one. but that’s completely okay.
it just makes me wonder. if i has been more mature, if i had had myself together, if i hadn’t been anxious, if i hadn’t been a victim...where would i be now?
that was my starting point when i reached the insurmountable amount of pain that is college. and it’s where i needed to be.
going back is like going on a trip your parents decided to take you on and you have no choice but to be strapped into the backseat for the ride. once i started reading i couldn’t stop.
these words mean nothing, but the words i wrote years ago don’t. they meant more than just a mere something.
they were all i had.
and now it’s so enlightening to look at myself and see so much more.
self reflection. follow my blog if you wanna update on my life or read more ranty stuff. i never post because i don’t have many followers but i feel like it would be good for me. it’s nice to know peoplelisten, i suppose.
 Nov 2018 Emma
xmxrgxncy
drowning.
 Nov 2018 Emma
xmxrgxncy
It's funny. They say with progression comes ease of life. However, this has not proved to be true.
Straight A's? Check. But a 97 on a test tanks my average since it's currently at 100.
Working out every day? Covered. But now that I've lost so much weight my clothes don't fit.
Internships? Got them. But the work they're taking leaves me exhausted and unable to maintain the idea of finding a job right now because I haven't the time.

Success is great. But don't ever let them tell you that there isn't a bad side. Even relatively.

I just want an 85 to feel like a victory again, one day of working out to be enough to go out and get ice cream for, to be able to make money for myself.

But god, why does swimming feel like drowning?
 Aug 2018 Emma
emnabee
The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.
A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.
 Aug 2018 Emma
Cello Girl
Your fingers soared over the keys.
You breathed love into the warm, bell-like tones.
You shook your head if you missed a note,
your eyes danced,
and around your grin
your mouth said
"I still have time,"
you said.
"I still have time before the concert."

A family trip, driving home,
back from the dunes of Michigan.
A father, mother, brother, you,
a sister left at home.
You sat in the back.
You were laughing, your family.
It was the last time they've laughed so hard.

A bend in the road,
a turn into town,
your car,
slowing down.
A different car, behind you,
did not slow down.

It slammed straight into you.
The metal crunched behind you,
the car spun, and your head bounced.
A helicopter came,
to take you away.

It was too quiet at the hospital.
But you couldn't tell.
You were in a coma.
"Brain trauma,"
the doctors said.
"And a broken leg and clavicle."
They didn't mention the broken
hearts.

They tried to pump life into your chest,
air into your lungs,
much like you
pumped life into the body of your clarinet.
But the machines failed where you did not.
The human in you had gone;
only a body was left.

You're playing for the angels now,
I know you are.
There's a smile on your lips,
in your eyes,
your brown, dancing eyes,
as your fingers effortlessly
fly over the keys,
you play
for the only audience
that could ever
hold you.
This poem is dedicated to the boy who plays clarinet in the sky. He was in my grade, and over the summer he was in an accident. He was one of the smartest, funniest, kindest, most talented people I have ever met.
This poem is my effort to immortalize him in words, and process the fact that he is gone.
 Aug 2018 Emma
Pensai
A Beachy Mood
 Aug 2018 Emma
Pensai
I can taste the salt on my lips
Oxygen is pure
Vegetation is rich
The sound of the shore is a soft as a kiss
The timbre of nature in harmony and bliss
Breeze blowing calm
Gorgeous shells in my palm
And the sand is a void that you can’t miss at all
At Morning the light is so subtle yet bright
Before noon there’s no gloom, much more  vivid my sight
Some hours go by while the Sun leaves the sky
So the stars come alive in the brightest of nights
I can taste the salt on my lips...

“Pensai”
 Aug 2018 Emma
Pensai
Lightfall
 Aug 2018 Emma
Pensai
A loud cry with quiet eyes does no justice for the soul in need.
Evil cancers the spirit of the weak
Demons in defeat combat with the might of ten thousand men.
Our victory is within the hour.
“Pensai”
This poem describes in vivid detail my battle with depression and suicide but firmly reassures you I won the battle. And for anyone who can understand that place.  
It’s always darkest before dawn. You will prevail
 Jul 2018 Emma
winter sakuras
The problem is that you always end up wanting more, right?
You can never be fulfilled with what you have.
Time either eats away at your regards
for certain things, or instead packs on layers of
desire, need, and growing relentlessness
in obtaining whatever it is you so desire.
It's quite sad, really,
how I might look at you from a distance
and feel shock, alarm, sadness, and pity
for being so engulfed in things that
will fade away, things that won't
work out, things that aren't worthy of
relinquishing in the light of your attention,
things that are consuming
bit by bit, the good, unique aspects
of you as a person.
You are waist deep, clawing into the abyss,
your eyes shining with desire, for something,
whatever it is, to become "more,"
to expand and transform into something that would
fulfill the extent of your feelings,
so you say.
How did you get so caught up
in it? How could you do that to yourself?
In a better place and time,
you exist for everyone and everything good,
not just for yourself.
You are kind, warm-hearted, open to those
who are laughing and crying,
to those falling and rising, to those coming
onto the shore, or washing away with the tides
into a beautiful, tragic sunset.
You exist to look directly into my soul
and talk to me
like you could talk to no other.
Because I'm not someone who needs help
with not giving into
worldly desires that will drain me of my
essence and life.
I try hard not to lose who I am,
and you won't ever see me harming
anybody or anything.
At the end of the day, we would
walk side by side on the shore
of a foamy, dark blue ocean carrying on its waves
lost dreams and souls out into the horizon,
and we would both agree that it has
been a good time, and that we have
established some sort of peace within ourselves,
that we no longer need to turn to
worldly desires and moments riding on
the seconds of a clock, in being able to
feel something calm and transparent.
We would both be liberated
from this world when we die.
That's all that I ever wanted when
I look at you.
You see... that's all that I ever wanted.
Atamgat - a soul which has been liberated.
origins: Indian

I dream of experiencing this feeling of pure bliss and freedom every single moment of my life.
 Jul 2018 Emma
winter sakuras
There is such a place, you know--
one that transcends time and space
and visions of what you're supposed to resemble,
and the limits placed by the digits
of your mortal age.

I can feel the presence of it
in my bones,
where the sky is never ending and liberated
and the sun and moon
can openly converse and love and exist,
without the rules of superiors
who like tragic love stories and twisted histories.

Whatever you decide to do, whatever you decide to feel,
there are no restraints
to keep you from the prospects of flying,
or dreaming,
or embracing things that you had to
let go of in another existence.

There is no fear, confusion, or awkwardness,
no doubts of not belonging,
of not deserving to exist in such a place
where your soul can be pure,
and being able to thrive
without having to try so hard
anymore.

You don't have to try anymore to
be a good person,
because you are one.
You don't have to struggle to hold on to yourself,
you don't have to feign ignorance
or enlightenment.

You can breathe and smile openly,
and every smile is so breathtakingly beautiful that
you glow and transcend above all heavens
and insecurities.

The ground is soft and supportive,
giving way to your feet, that no longer
feel so tired and heavy from having to labor to live,
or from constantly running away
from demons and voices
that tear at your conscience and soul.

No, you can now feel as light as air itself,
soft feet running on sunkissed clouds that
formed from tears of happiness.

When it rains,
you don't have to take cover
for it has already washed away all your sorrows and guilts,
guilts in the forms of hot, suppressed tears
in the failures of your lost ambitions
and stolen discoveries,
guilt from turning away, even when someone
asked you for help.

You can forever venture out here,
to unknown, misty, thriving islands and majestic palaces
far away,
you can do things you never got to do,
for you don't have to pretend
to be someone you aren't.

You don't have to live each day questioning
every single telltale of life.

You don't have to wonder anymore
about why the world can be
such a cruel place,
no matter how many rays of hope
reach into the darkness.

You don't have to wonder anymore,
because here
such misery does not exist,
and the ruins of a good soul
dance as a renewed, enlightened being again.

Above all,
you don't have to live someone else's life
because here, you find yourself
over and over
and over again.
07/09/18

The Green of this particular Nirvana is a component that allows you to love and live freely, with no restrictions or heaviness of people weighed down by the world, and themselves.

Here, you are liberated from the faults of others, and the faults of yourself in a time and place where you were ignorant and lost.

Here, there is no society to degrade you. You can exist solely in harmony with nature.

Edit: Wow, I can't believe this poem got chosen to be the Poem of the Day! I've never received so many likes, comments, and feedback on any of my poems, so I feel overwhelmed, but very happy. Thank you for taking the time to read my words; it really means alot to me <3 <3
 Jul 2018 Emma
Natália
There is this time of a day
Which I am most attracted to
Which I love
Which I enjoy like no other

It’s not the morning
Even though the rising sun is splendid
And the early chilly breeze is the freshest

Not the noon
When the sun is shining the most brightly
And all life is outside and thriving

And not the evening
No, there is something more powerful
Even than the lovely orange-pink sky

It’s the night
When you can fully open your windows
When it is all dark
Expect for the stars
When you are alone with your thoughts
When you can put all the weight from you shoulders down
Be your true self
Throw the masks away
Rest
And enjoy the silence
The night is the time when I feel truly happy
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