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vinca Jan 2019
Hello, I'm Vinca
you are not going to like me
and I will hate myself
so please, *******.

(actually, please, stay.)

Hello, I'm Vinca
I'm insecure, clingy, needy
yeah, a recipe for disaster
you have to save yourself.

(actually, please, stay.)

Hello, I'm Vinca
someone hasn't grown into
the girl her mother wished for
I understand your reason.

(actually, please, stay.)

Hello, I'm Vinca
not that I wished to
be Vinca
can you blame me, though?

I know, you won't stay.

I wouldn't stay either.
vinca Jan 2019
A brand new experience
that leads to nowhere.

No problem
I'm used to getting lost.

Or so I've thought.

A brand new experience
that leads to nowhere.

The problem is
You don't let me get lost.

Or so I've believed.

A brand new experience
that leads to nowhere.

Any problem?
Who knows...

You haven't
thought, believed.

You haven't even known.

stay blissful.
I don't know why I keep on going and how long it'll last.
vinca Jan 2019
let me be your poetess
the one you adore
let me be your muse
the one you look up to
let me be your conqueress
the one fights for you
let me be your victory
the one you long for
let me be your discipless
the one you favour secretly
let me be your sin
the one you pretend to regret

let me be someone else to you
as I can't be myself anymore.
Who is "myself", anyways?
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 Jan 2019
Hey
Do you know
how much you can inflict in me,
oh-so-easily?

Do you know
how I cherish every feeling you leave,
because that's all I have?

Do you know
is it you, or me,
who is being ingenuous?

Do you know
it's you who make me write ****** poems,
in a language that's not my mother-tongue?

You don't
thank you for that,
and everything else.

Sometimes, ignorance really is the bliss.
heaven help me, pretty please.
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 Jul 2018
Years ago
I made a wish

I used to say
"I'd rather feel everything than emptiness."

And it came true
Out of the thousands of wishes
It was the choosen one

It was my doom.
I became my own doom.
vinca Jul 2018
Not too far
If I stand up on tiptoes
And strech my arms out
I can feel it at my fingertips
Like fireworks
Or shooting stars
No, it is emptiness
Do
I
Really
Feel?
Who made me "me"?
Could "I" ever be someone else?
Do I really feel?
No, not at all.
It's only emptiness
Not fireworks, not shooting stars
They are high above
And I roll in a pit
Covered with mud
If I even dare to look above...
It's only a dream
Do
I
Really
Feel?
vinca Jul 2018
The Creatrix is dead
Our dearest mother
Who would snap my neck
And toss me aside
She is dead
And I am not
They said
She didn't like weaklings
They said
She was cruel
Wrong
Wrong wrong wrong
She is dead and I am not
She left me
Therefore I am lonely
And alive
Yes
Yes, she is cruel
She left me
Her lonely child
Alive
Yes
Yes, she didn't like weaklings
She didn't like me
The weakling child
Her weakling child
The Creatrix is dead
And I am not
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 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 Jan 2019
You know you have no place among them.

They fit and form a breathtaking picture
like pieces of a puzzle.

Your edges are odd as they've always been.

But you aren’t a part of that picture
you can’t be a part of that picture.

Your edges are odd, you don’t fit.

There are so many people
there are so many pictures.

Your edges are odd and that's not required.

They don’t need or want your presence
maybe they aren't even aware of it.

Your edges are odd, it's not a blessing.

Too abstract, too fluid
the textbook definition of "nuisance".

You know you have no place among them.
vinca Dec 2018
I know I can sulk,
as much as
I want to
as much as
I can.

So I do.

Nothing changes

It's the same pretty mistake I do,
Intentionally, foolishly.
I might wait a different outcome,
I might not think at all.
Over and over.

So I do.

Nothing changes

I know I can scream,
as helpless as
I want to
as helpless as
I can

as helpless as I am

So I don't.

Nothing changes.

It's always the same outcome
that life serves me with a grin.
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.
vinca Jan 2019
It's me who should know better
It's me who should make the sacrifice
It's me who should be strong
when others won't.

for what?

When did I get so used to
burn every inch of myself out
for acception and love
that no one grants me?

for what?

It's me who knows better
It's me who makes the sacrifice
It's me who is strong
as it's the only choice

for what?

When did it get so hard not to
wear everything on my sleeve
as opposed to hide them so
I won't be noticed?

for what?

It's me who is the fool
It's me who is the attention-seeker
It's me who is the weakling
still painfully invisible.

no reason, no consequence
no beginning, no end

after all, I'm the girl who can't hurt herself
who can't heal herself
who can neither exist nor perish.
It's me who is the utmost liar

no savior, no captor
no one, no one, no one.
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 Dec 2018
Could have been a masterpiece,
Could have been eye-opening,
a breath of fresh air.

Endless possiblities.

Could have been coloured and fiery,
Could have been subtle and graceful,
the result of years of perfection.

Endless possiblities.

Could have been all,
Like an empty canvas I was born as.
But I have been me.

The canvas is stained
tainted
spoiled

The canvas is stained forevermore.
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 Jul 2018
Sorry,
Have we ever met before?

I thought so,
Thank you for your time.

I've heard that voice before
At least, I think so

Faces
They seem familiar
Yet they are not
Imagination creates wonders
A family, friends
Happy memories...

The happy little world
That inside my crooked little head,
A simple lie
A bittersweer deception
Darker than the depths of the ocean
Created by the Devil himself

O Lucifer,
What wrong have I done to you?
Is torture a part of your affection?
If so,
Keep going
Push my head into the sweetest lies
Then pull me back to wretched reality
Maybe one day
One day I'll learn
How to make lies true

O Lucifer
Bless me with your deception
Thus I can be you
Destroy you
And me
A perfect final

Revenge is sweeter than your lies.
vinca Aug 2018
If I be real sweet
And ask real kindly
Could you please
Please
Just a little bit, not too much
I promise
Not too much
...

Actually, you know what
Nevermind
No, it's okay
It's not important
Not at all
I don't deserve it
Your time, kindness, affection
Don't waste them on me

Please,please,please
vinca Nov 2018
It could be you, right?
No
I can only wish.

My tears aren't going to wipe themselves,
That's why,
That's why my fingers know all to well
where cheeks are.
But it's my throat
where they find themselves.

After all, I'm the girl
who pats her own back.

It could be you, right?
No
I can only wish.

After all, I'm the girl
who writes poems for herself.

— The End —