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vinca Aug 2022
my colours have become muddy, confused and foul
but now it is our song that winds will howl
creation of yet another distance between you and i
on my journey drowning as you stay high

little by little, lost the sparkle that you devour,
and hopes became frail like a sick little flower
hollow, even meaning has lost its meaning
with me i carry sweets such as love-lies-bleeding

from earth not a sight, not a soul, not a beam
can reach to the depth of my misty dream
now embraced by the waves and foam, i sink
petals escape my fingertips, bleeding and pink

you, dearest colour-eating, joy-******* vampire
forsaken, yet my yearning for you is always dire
even once sweet promises became bitter poison
sunken, my eyelids and heart grew heavy as iron

lilies stay afloat and your light can't reach to me
tongue-tied, lips-shut, no more letting a single plea
my tears now accompanied by freshwater pearls
from my chest to the surface one last daisy swirls
nothing like the picture that my mind painted but yeah, missing him
vinca Jul 2022
pain fills me up
from my stomach to my skull
souffrance come une smoke
thick and bleak and black
or like food, not nutritious
yet quite poison-like
une illusion, ou pas?

pain fills me up
untill i choke and burst
throat shut, eyes burning
something that's not welcome
tu es disparu mais pas de moi
en restant comme une partie d'âme
unable to chase, unwilling to leave

pain fills me up
ressemblant à le lierre
ou le squelette de moi-même
this time solid and trapping
a cage borne into my flesh
neither locks nor keys
maybe a welcome addiction

love, now c'est une illusion
une image que j'ai fait de toi
maybe just out of nostalgia
you had all the time to come
i had all the time to heal
yet the pain fills me up
from the cracks you left
it came to me in english and french yet neither of them are my mother tongue, it doesn't make any sense, it's just me vomiting my mind, the result leaves quite a lot to be desires
vinca Jun 2022
brain is a strange little place
a real mess of barbed wires and dead ends
a set of connections my mind threads
they all have a tint of you
something that i cannot erase

the weight of memories
that i have to carry myself alone
within my being like chains sewn
they all have a taint of you
as you forget and enjoy the ease

contaminated and consumed by you
but do you ever remember me, too?
still love you loads, dearest light
vinca Aug 2019
Has my skull ever really been a home to you?
Or was it too cold, too surreal?

You weren't complete, neither were my masterpieces.
I couldn't kidnap enough of you.

It was more of a cage than a home,
an utopia for me nevertheless, mine alone.

Hours upon hours I've spended on you.
An addiction, art, or my fall?
I can't even remember all of you.
vinca Feb 2019
We all have favorites
there is no use in denying that.

It is simple.

Yet I can't put my finger on why
or how you've grown to be mine

favorite...obsession?

Why do you visit me so often
in the dreams I'm afraid to dream?

You don't do that in real life.

No problem, you don't have to
this is the way it should be.

There is nothing I want from you.

But I want to wipe that idiotic smile
out of my face when our eyes meet.

It is not simple.
vinca Feb 2019
sweetest dream,
masterpiece of mine
that I live to perfect,
to sculpt, to polish.

sweetest dream,
masterpiece of mine
that would make Calliope cry,
we aren't her fault, are we?

sweetest dream,
masterpiece of mine
that is a heretical creation,
a compilation of lies.

sweetest drug,
******* of mine
that lulls me into life,
we snuggle with my defeat.
vinca Feb 2019
isn't it so painfully obvious
that's an illusion which your
wicked mind presents you
in a dish of fake hopes, on
a bed of lies, garnished with
lost time and impossibilities
and you, the misery-loving
dim-wit, devour it everytime
with your endless appetite
as you did countless times
before and you doubtlessly
will do a countless times
again and again and again
yet every single time, it will
be you, the misery-loving
dim-wit, whose eyes are
full of tears that are induced
by an agonizing, unforgiving
yet familiar ache placed in
your stomache as all you've
eaten was the emptiness of
cold, acrid reality?
This one didn't turn out as I wanted it to be but whatever.
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