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Isla Dec 2019
you’re sweet
But don't expect me to write love poetry
Don’t you love how I don’t post for literal months and then come back with three poems in one night.

see y’all in 8 years I guess ✌️
Isla Dec 2019
I want it to be you
But I can't make my heart feel
Something it won't.

You were the air in my lungs
Inhale a kiss
Exhale in lies

Sometimes I wonder
Does my voice sound the same
If the love song is not for you
Am I still beautiful
If my eyes don't shine for you
Sometimes I wonder
If I'm in your dreams
If you wish I was yours
Sometimes I wonder how deep the hurt goes
Sometimes I wonder

I hate this. I hate how were so distant and all that's left of us is our ghosts how when you smile its not the same because you know I can't be yours in the way you want me to be .
I see clearly
When I was afraid I clung to you because I thought you were the only thing that could save me but when I see you in this light I realize you are not what I need
Only what I wanted you to be
I'm sorry
I didn't want to break your heart or hurt  you but all I seem to do is make it worse
How can I help you when it was I who hurt you?
How will we recover
how will we see the light?
I hate this
I ******* hate this
Yeah I wrote this after breaking up with my SEVENTH GRADE BOYFRIEND, HOW IS THIS SO UPSET?? **** i really did love him  though
Isla Dec 2019
So I guess I thought I was a poet
But my mind was so filled with him that I couldn’t even find me
So I guess I tried being a songwriter
But my fingers could never find the chords
Or the lyrics
Or the rhythms
So then I guess I fancied myself an artist
But surprise surprise
The slightest touch of pencil to paper appalled me
So I guess I’m not a poet or a writer or an artist
But today at least I like myself a little more than yesterday

And maybe that’s enough
Wow so this site still exists hi
Isla Jul 2019
broken souls slump against battered brick walls
the avenue drowning in cheap perfume
drawing in the tired
slick pavement melts the neon lights, bathing the cold street in red reflections

she puffs on a cigarette
smoke clearing her head as it fills her lungs
her lips taste are made of whiskey and a million well kept secrets
her smile never reveals too much
but she has learned not to be afraid
she has learned to keep her head up
she sighs and straightens her back
it’s showtime
  Jun 2019 Isla
do you have moments, where you can’t imagine a future?
you’re lying there, staring at the
same walls
same ceilings
same words
with nothing but the same feelings-
empty and pale,
like there’s no reason to go on,
when you can’t even do enough to fail.
the future is coming, but you don’t want to be in it,
can’t imagine yourself in it.
where you just want to stop.
and just sit there for a while.
maybe not death, as that’s too permanent,
but something close to it.
when you can feel the rope around your neck,
the razor on your wrist,
the way the pills taste.
you can imagine it, and you aren’t sure if it’s what you want,
or just the feelings you imagine it will give you
Is this depression?
Isla May 2019
I don’t know you
not really anyway
it’s small talk if not silence

but I do know that
you want to be reborn as flowing water
me as a ray of light

in another way
in another life
just maybe
we could learn to love each other
What am I doING
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