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"anastasia" poems
Dostoevsky dreams And Pushkin lines And rhymes... Like Bolshevik bullets Tear into me Seething Hot sleep! Dead Tsars and Anastasia Mean nothing to me But I miss them Sometimes... Aristocratic nonsense But tiaras are pretty With diamonds shining In a Russian night As kulaks die The diamonds glitter A worthy reminder Of a beautiful time When debutantes danced And the little Tsarina Could dream in peace
0
Mar 24, 2019
Mar 24, 2019 at 11:56 AM UTC
Dostoevsky Dreams
shrug it off and be a boss the best is yet to come don't get stuck on 'falling back' so fall forward if you would
0
Dec 21, 2015
Dec 21, 2015 at 6:59 PM UTC
Response to Anastasia Anderson's 'Self-Medicate'
Cinderella found the lock and key Sleeping Beauty endured a curse to be free Belle chose a man who hung on for a rose Mulan didn’t give up though her heart nearly froze Jasmine chose the one who lied to impress Ariel sold her voice just to feel his caress Anastasia lived when all was lost Meg saved her hero at the ultimate cost
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May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 11:01 AM UTC
Feminism
Anastasia was my friend her face was always pale she always wore a ribbon & her daddy went to yale she was the talk of all the playground the new girl always is excited, unready to settle like her coke-a-cola's fizz until she sat beside me & tapped me very slow "i want to run away," she said "but i don't know where to go" i too was quite unpleased "come and follow me" so there we packed our knapsacks and took off for Belize
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Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 2:26 AM UTC
*******
Where are the Eleanors And Godivas riding In power and insight, With spirit and mystique. They aren't in jewelry Or splashed on jeans. Vishti refused to attend Her drunken Lord; She is no mirror for Isabella, So inexperienced in love. Anne H. fought for liberty, Bella likes to shake blonde ringlets On her shoulders; The nervous Anastasia, The clumsy Swan, So modest And ill-spoken With downcast eyes. Katniss is no Palla Athena Or Garibaldi, though there's promise. They are bound, timid heroines. Malala never shot an arrow, But spoke like Rosa, like Golda. Yet, your childish sword-bearers Are still desired by the men They encounter; Not as Susan B was courted. Do they understand How the chase ends, These self-depricating heroines.
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Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 9:08 AM UTC
More Malalas, Please
I’ve met 37 girls named Sarah. My name. Sarah. Five letters, nothing special. It’s not beautiful like Lena. Not creative like Anastasia. No one has any trouble pronouncing it. Which I guess isn’t all that bad. Until they go into that story about that one Sarah who gives my name a bitter taste in their mouth. Spiting out the two syllable, five letter word that defines me, like they know something about me. “Oh Sarah, I knew a Sarah once.” Please don’t say my name like that, don’t elongate that first a, cut sharp the sound of the r, only to drop the h at the end. Five letters said as if there are only four.
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May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 8:39 PM UTC
Sarah
For ShirleyB Feel your heartbeat quicken For these pasta-salad days: I am bringing chicken. Bulging bellies thicken Laden with crab hollandaise. Feel your heartbeat quicken. Sweet Siobhan seems stricken By the puddings and soufflés. (I am bringing chicken.) Insert thy toothpick in Anastasia’s canapés: Feel your heartbeat quicken. Beatrice (she’s Wiccan) Brought a heap of warm beignets; I am bringing chicken. Jealousy shall sicken Those who brought their best entrées-- Feel your heartbeat quicken: I am bringing chicken!
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Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 6:50 PM UTC
Villanelle On a Summer Potluck
We don't have a love like the rest I compare it to Anastasia and Christian You are so cold and dark inside You can't provide love in my life You can't save me from the demons in my mind But I love the way you feel inside. It's hard pretending I do not care I wouldn't have it any other way The way your thrusting inside me Pulling my hair, and I scream. Down on my knees looking up at you This is what we have to offer A secret life of *** and I can't be your lover But the way you grab me, pulls me away You can take all you want Just stay, my fifty shades.
0
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 1:23 AM UTC
Fifty Shades
All the once upon a time stories that end in happily ever after have the flawless handsome Prince charming who meets the sweetest princess or young maiden who becomes a princess after they marry (typically approximately 12 to 18 hours or so after they meet usually because the sweet young lady was rescued by the Prince because she was singing randomly and dancing around with woodland animals who do her laundry and she fell off of a tower or was attacked by some lady who literally has no job but spends her entire life just being evil for the sake of being evil and yet never starves to death despite the fact that her evil plots never actually allow her to aquire money or food of any sort.) The girl is always polite Everyone loves her She usually has a waistline tinier than a flowerstem And she sees the good in everyone She is also gorgeous 100% of the time Well I am NOT that girl I can't alwaye be polite and perfect I can't even be pretty There are more people that hate me than there are people who can even tolerate me I'm not the likable easy going type I don't have a three inch waist (mainly because that is completely insane) I can't find a way to like every person I'm the jealous ugly stepsister Anastasia in Cinderella I'm the wicked witch in the wizard of Oz I'm the wolf in the three little pigs I'm the hag in snow white and the seven dwarves I'm not the princess in the story But fortunately, I don't need to be because life is not a fairytale And you don't need to be prince charming Hell, you don't even need to be anything like the lists I make about what my dream guy should be like Because really, since when do I know what I actually want? I certainly am always wrong about what I need So here's the deal You love me for me, be loyal, care about me because of my soul first and my looks having nothing to do with it, you give me eternity, And I promise you the same. I don't need you to catch me when I fall off a tower That doesn't really happen much I need you to catch the little pieces of me when I fall apart because the emotions were all too much I don't need a happily ever after And you don't need to be prince charming Because I am not a princess Repost if you are not a princess either Please comment I love to read interpretations of my work and really any other thoughts you may have! :)
0
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 1:19 AM UTC
because I am not a princess
All the once upon a time stories that end in happily ever after have the flawless handsome Prince charming who meets the sweetest princess or young maiden who becomes a princess after they marry (typically approximately 12 to 18 hours or so after they meet usually because the sweet young lady was rescued by the Prince because she was singing randomly and dancing around with woodland animals who do her laundry and she fell off of a tower or was attacked by some lady who literally has no job but spends her entire life just being evil for the sake of being evil and yet never starves to death despite the fact that her evil plots never actually allow her to aquire money or food of any sort.) The girl is always polite Everyone loves her She usually has a waistline tinier than a flowerstem And she sees the good in everyone She is also gorgeous 100% of the time Well I am NOT that girl I can't alwaye be polite and perfect I can't even be pretty There are more people that hate me than there are people who can even tolerate me I'm not the likable easy going type I don't have a three inch waist (mainly because that is completely insane) I can't find a way to like every person I'm the jealous ugly stepsister Anastasia in Cinderella I'm the wicked witch in the wizard of Oz I'm the wolf in the three little pigs I'm the hag in snow white and the seven dwarves I'm not the princess in the story But fortunately, I don't need to be because life is not a fairytale And you don't need to be prince charming Hell, you don't even need to be anything like the lists I make about what my dream guy should be like Because really, since when do I know what I actually want? I certainly am always wrong about what I need So here's the deal You love me for me, be loyal, care about me because of my soul first and my looks having nothing to do with it, you give me eternity, And I promise you the same. I don't need you to catch me when I fall off a tower That doesn't really happen much I need you to catch the little pieces of me when I fall apart because the emotions were all too much I don't need a happily ever after And you don't need to be prince charming Because I am not a princess Repost if you are not a princess either Please comment I love to read interpretations of my work and really any other thoughts you may have! :)
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34
He called me princess. I don't think much of it, let it slip my mind from time to time. I'm fine with it. Until today, when I watched a woman tell a little girl she wasn't one. Talking about how her daddy shouldn't call her what she's not and her mama shouldn't be filling her head with words like, "You can be anything you want to." Like, its not true and if you don't tell her now she'll never outgrow the idea of being A princess. And though Heaven forbid we dreams big, I, was definitely a princess. Princess Aleisia of the Beauties, a forest is my own back yard, my castle was a tree I literally believed gnomes lived beneath: Alglenia. An orphaned warrior; I was half gypsy, half native, half Neopian Light Faerie, And though I clearly was not a princess who did math, I protected my subjects from monsters and evil that was constantly trying to overthrow good. I could wield a Morning Star better than any boy on the block. I had inner battles with myself, for I had the blood and horns of a dragon and it was always a challenge to be both Athena's apprentice and an aspiring sage because I thrived in the dark. I was part demon like Inuyasha, I was Sango, I was Mononoke, I was Mulan, I was Pocahontas, I was Bell AND the Beast, I was Susan and Lucy, I was Esmerelda, Anastasia And that's still a big part of me. Because, if someone had listed all the things I couldn't be while my knees were still to weak for me to stand and speak up for what I believed in, I probably would never have been a poet. So excuse me for using the word "heroine" with the last ounce of innocence the world has yet to offer a little girl. Pardon me for trying to learn to infuse grace and charm with strength and loyalty. Now, imagine with me. The places I used to play left in ruin. My castles disintegrating. The echo of my battle cries through the forests and fields and mountains have long since faded because the heir to my throne never took her place. Deny her the right to grow out of her child hood? Deny me the right to write? This was never a career choice of mine, This will always be a way of life.
0
Feb 3, 2013
Feb 3, 2013 at 4:45 PM UTC
Algenia
He called me princess. I don't think much of it, let it slip my mind from time to time. I'm fine with it. Until today, when I watched a woman tell a little girl she wasn't one. Talking about how her daddy shouldn't call her what she's not and her mama shouldn't be filling her head with words like, "You can be anything you want to." Like, its not true and if you don't tell her now she'll never outgrow the idea of being A princess. And though Heaven forbid we dreams big, I, was definitely a princess. Princess Aleisia of the Beauties, a forest is my own back yard, my castle was a tree I literally believed gnomes lived beneath: Alglenia. An orphaned warrior; I was half gypsy, half native, half Neopian Light Faerie, And though I clearly was not a princess who did math, I protected my subjects from monsters and evil that was constantly trying to overthrow good. I could wield a Morning Star better than any boy on the block. I had inner battles with myself, for I had the blood and horns of a dragon and it was always a challenge to be both Athena's apprentice and an aspiring sage because I thrived in the dark. I was part demon like Inuyasha, I was Sango, I was Mononoke, I was Mulan, I was Pocahontas, I was Bell AND the Beast, I was Susan and Lucy, I was Esmerelda, Anastasia And that's still a big part of me. Because, if someone had listed all the things I couldn't be while my knees were still to weak for me to stand and speak up for what I believed in, I probably would never have been a poet. So excuse me for using the word "heroine" with the last ounce of innocence the world has yet to offer a little girl. Pardon me for trying to learn to infuse grace and charm with strength and loyalty. Now, imagine with me. The places I used to play left in ruin. My castles disintegrating. The echo of my battle cries through the forests and fields and mountains have long since faded because the heir to my throne never took her place. Deny her the right to grow out of her child hood? Deny me the right to write? This was never a career choice of mine, This will always be a way of life.
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32
I love you more than I love my Momma And quite a lot more than Republicans love Obama I love you more than Miley loves twerking And probably as much as teenage boys love jerking. I love you more than hipsters love instagram and about the same as the turn of the century loved the telegram. I love you more than Hans loved Anna and just as much as monkeys love bananas I love you more than the asdaf kid likes trains and most likely more than Anastasia liked pain. I love you more than pandas love extinction and probably less than pansexuality needs distinction. I love you more than John loved his best man and I ship us more than any fandom can. I love you more than beliebers love Justin and definitely more than **** maids love dustin' I love thee more than Shakespeare loved tragedy and the same amount as Ann is raggedy. I love you more than Peeta loves Katniss and almost more than cats love catnip. I love you more than teachers love cheaters but probably not as much as Jesus loved Easter. I love you to the moon and back and there is nothing that you do lack. <3
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Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 9:20 PM UTC
Measuring Love
a polish pork head terrine? my ******* god... how can the jews and the muslims take to culinary criticism of their own, respective gods? ever watch the t.v. show billions? where they're having breadcrumbs fried pork ears?    last time i heard...    the best pork is encapsulated within the pig cranium.... all that excess cartilage?    yummy finger licking good... seems funny though... it's not exactly discussing bone marrow... it's pork head...    all that excess cartilage...     and mingled with sweet & sour gherkins... just my idea of Anastasia... a porky's head... chicken hearts / chicken livers....       raw Baltic herrings? who the, **** needs to glorify american hamburgers...    if not some jerking-off megalomaniac?                      you eat, what is given, you don't ask for nuances, you don't make excuses... you eat what is on the plate.. you **** the omnivore "gimmick"...     pork head flesh, meat mixed with cartilage?               tasty as ****           so why would islam or the partial strand of judaism    be so critical concerning the most economic carnivore animal being       farmed, herded, industrialised? the monotheistic celebration of god... within the confines of a criticism, so trivial would make a god laugh... it would appear the dogma was written as a joke... earthquake and hurricane are o.k., but pork? the ******* bubonic plague!      i love how "god" is celebrated, but at the same time, kept under a critical acclaim of having one of his creations, namely pork...    given a punching bag status of criticism... since, what is so ******* pristine, and spectacular, about chicken, lamb or beef meat?    according to islam... mad cow disease never happened.
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Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 9:19 PM UTC
pork head terrine (herrmetzger)
a polish pork head terrine? my ******* god... how can the jews and the muslims take to culinary criticism of their own, respective gods? ever watch the t.v. show billions? where they're having breadcrumbs fried pork ears?    last time i heard...    the best pork is encapsulated within the pig cranium.... all that excess cartilage?    yummy finger licking good... seems funny though... it's not exactly discussing bone marrow... it's pork head...    all that excess cartilage...     and mingled with sweet & sour gherkins... just my idea of Anastasia... a porky's head... chicken hearts / chicken livers....       raw Baltic herrings? who the, **** needs to glorify american hamburgers...    if not some jerking-off megalomaniac?                      you eat, what is given, you don't ask for nuances, you don't make excuses... you eat what is on the plate.. you **** the omnivore "gimmick"...     pork head flesh, meat mixed with cartilage?               tasty as ****           so why would islam or the partial strand of judaism    be so critical concerning the most economic carnivore animal being       farmed, herded, industrialised? the monotheistic celebration of god... within the confines of a criticism, so trivial would make a god laugh... it would appear the dogma was written as a joke... earthquake and hurricane are o.k., but pork? the ******* bubonic plague!      i love how "god" is celebrated, but at the same time, kept under a critical acclaim of having one of his creations, namely pork...    given a punching bag status of criticism... since, what is so ******* pristine, and spectacular, about chicken, lamb or beef meat?    according to islam... mad cow disease never happened.
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59
Somewhere, some place a century ago, Long before my own generation's birth There walked a girl who still many do know In the meadows and cities on this earth. Like us she felt the same breath of the dawn, Has seen the same sun, moon and gleaming star, And many things she had pondered upon, Which makes our similarities not far. And when I'm pondering upon our past, Melancholy and Happy are merging, And I do realize that things have gone fast, Who offer a time for contemplating.   Despite the past is gone, I still adore   The small beauties that had took place before.
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Nov 13, 2016
Nov 13, 2016 at 1:51 PM UTC
Anastasia Romanov
3. I fall in love when I am lonely 4. I won't be able to look in the mirror and be happy 5. I can not fall in love after *** 6. My need for affection is insatiable. 7. I somehow convinced myself I will be the Anastasia to one of these Mr.Greys 8. I feel that two is the loneliest number 9. As long as you touch me I will love you 10. I wont be able to look in the mirror and be happy 11. I know I said that twice 1. I do not know how to love people properly. 2. This includes myself.
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Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 12:30 AM UTC
11 things I learned about myself in an instant
She was taken with her family in the night. Frozen blood ended a family bond, forever With the sound of gunfire in an evil man’s plight. Russia knew her as “Annie.” Blonde flowing strands of hair and a golden heart. Her life was barely past her start. Missing in history..Her end… the story to it… It is still in our hearts. A Memory. Of a leader of the “Russians” at the start of a revolution. The closets of the new leaders… Voices of her revenge still haunts… To the chill of their blood and the spill in the snow.. An equal punishment to the end of a golden spirit that still glows.
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Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 10:30 PM UTC
Anastasia
Let me be like the waterfall In your dreamland forest. . . I’ll never stop running down Don’t ever stop flowing for them But my cool water will only Be for you my lioness I will poison the others When they try and think That they know how a moving Body as mine could Just keep moving on over A smooth body like yours But not this time You collapsed the bottom Of the pit where I hold All of the darkest **** in my life And you knew it, but not really Your diamond eyes Saw right through me I saw a little kitten appear Out of the thick crowd Of chickens and near-death Running bulls and run up to me And say “You remind me of someone” But he is dead already Rest in peace Until we can finally meet Again on the blurry banks Of the crystal blue springs In your eyes
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Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 4:22 PM UTC
Anastasia Falls
Hello. Welcome. Sit down. Get comfortable. Let me introduce myself. I’m a man of the finer things in life. I’ve been here for a long while. Captured, lured, seduced, and wooed many the heart and mind. You hear about that Jesus Christ? All that trouble for uncertainty. Well as for Pilate Thought he could get away clean. I couldn’t be happier Hearing people fight for years Over false prophets they made. It is a pleasure to meet you. Hope you guess my name. Perplexing? I was made this way. Did you hear about St. Petersburg? Revolution! Killed the czar and his ministers. Anastasia screamed to me. I was plastered on the walls of Auschwitz. Smelled the hot flesh burn. For ten decades. It is a pleasure to meet you. Hope you guess my name. Perplexed? I was made this way. Just as the innocent are corrupt The corrupt are innocent. As black is white. As up is down. Some call me Lucifer. I can smell it on you. Someone please hold me back. But if we meet. Be polite. Have some pity and charm Use all your manners. Or kiss your *** goodbye. It is a pleasure to meet you. I’ll say this once it’s your fault. Perplexing? I was made this way.
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Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 1:39 PM UTC
A New Hoof Beat
For Anastasia *Give patience, Lord, to us Thy children In these dark, stormy days to bear The persecution of our people, The torture falling to our share. -- When we are plundered and insulted In days of mutinous unrest We turn for help to thee, Christ-Saviour, That we may stand the bitter test. -Grand Duchess Olga Nikolaevna Romanov* Weakened by the revolutionists, they lived their last days out simply. Cold borscht and cabbage rolls. The family was herded to the slaughter house. Precious jewels and ikons sewn into their clothing, Give strength, Just God, to us who need it. The baby boy was butchered like a suckling piglet. Low ceilings and dim light made it hard to take aim and fire. Tears and prayers collided with bullets and blood, spattered on the walls. A thick cloud of smoke and plaster settled upon a dynasty dead. She raised herself from the dead, Clawing, moaning, screaming, stifled by blood-- Then disappeared, falling into the abyss of immortality.
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Jun 26, 2010
Jun 26, 2010 at 5:56 PM UTC
The House of Special Purpose
I kno you all to well, Makin' the wrong decision, with men, and start to dwell, Livin' blendin' collisions within hearts you tail, In the endin' you forgive him and say it's hard to bail, I don't know why you let men beat you, And mistreat you, Go back and get mad that they had deceived you, Now you only see the worst in people, It's rare you see good, 'cause it's common you see evil, I see through, This obsession to be loved, Need a lot now, because before you didn't get enough, Start to talk to me when things are getting tough, Your life feels like you are putting through the rough, In the end all of these boogies make you feel lonely, Treatin' you just like a piece of pepperoni, Feelin' hella sad 'cause every girl just wants a pony, Thinkin' everyday ferry tails are a little more phony, If only, Ya prince charming would arrive, A man who would stand out from all these bad guys, Someone to focus on what you need in ya life, A pleasure, to take away all the plight, I'd fight, and try, To be a friend, But the more we time spend, The more I'm vibin, Want more than to slide in, You were someone that I confide in, I'm fightin' An inner battle, To be the raft or the paddle, Havin' trouble being the queen to you own castle, Askin' me to be the shepherd to your cattle, Findin' where I fit seems to be such a hassle, Problem is I could never even try to trust you, Known for betraying any man who tried to love you, Foolin' my self believing I was strictly lustful, But knew it was somethin' more every time that I touched you, And it kills me, The only time you get to see the real me, Is when liquor fills me, And I drunk text you all my feelings, Spillin' my heart out, Tryin' to negate a fall out, Conflicted, wishin' your what I envision without a small doubt, I'm there for you, I care for you, When he put his hands on ya, Where were you? The man behind the scenes, Hands inside his jeans, Glamorized in dreams, You I fantasize with me, But in the end, I'm just a friend, with you watching Mean Girls and Anastasia, Answer any call from my dream girl, "How can I save ya?" All I want is you, I don't wanna be a playa, I kno you all to well so we'll never be nothin' greater...
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May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 11:15 AM UTC
I Kno
I kno you all to well, Makin' the wrong decision, with men, and start to dwell, Livin' blendin' collisions within hearts you tail, In the endin' you forgive him and say it's hard to bail, I don't know why you let men beat you, And mistreat you, Go back and get mad that they had deceived you, Now you only see the worst in people, It's rare you see good, 'cause it's common you see evil, I see through, This obsession to be loved, Need a lot now, because before you didn't get enough, Start to talk to me when things are getting tough, Your life feels like you are putting through the rough, In the end all of these boogies make you feel lonely, Treatin' you just like a piece of pepperoni, Feelin' hella sad 'cause every girl just wants a pony, Thinkin' everyday ferry tails are a little more phony, If only, Ya prince charming would arrive, A man who would stand out from all these bad guys, Someone to focus on what you need in ya life, A pleasure, to take away all the plight, I'd fight, and try, To be a friend, But the more we time spend, The more I'm vibin, Want more than to slide in, You were someone that I confide in, I'm fightin' An inner battle, To be the raft or the paddle, Havin' trouble being the queen to you own castle, Askin' me to be the shepherd to your cattle, Findin' where I fit seems to be such a hassle, Problem is I could never even try to trust you, Known for betraying any man who tried to love you, Foolin' my self believing I was strictly lustful, But knew it was somethin' more every time that I touched you, And it kills me, The only time you get to see the real me, Is when liquor fills me, And I drunk text you all my feelings, Spillin' my heart out, Tryin' to negate a fall out, Conflicted, wishin' your what I envision without a small doubt, I'm there for you, I care for you, When he put his hands on ya, Where were you? The man behind the scenes, Hands inside his jeans, Glamorized in dreams, You I fantasize with me, But in the end, I'm just a friend, with you watching Mean Girls and Anastasia, Answer any call from my dream girl, "How can I save ya?" All I want is you, I don't wanna be a playa, I kno you all to well so we'll never be nothin' greater...
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57
I think were a lot like Anastasia and Christian You are dark, and mysterious on one side And sweet and innocent on the other It reminds me of Christian Grey I'm confused and afraid of love and waiting to be loved and cared for It reminds me of Anastasia Steele Together, we go together as the two lovers above Were not meant for each other, But we cant keep away We always get hurt, but come back for each other Because we both know the other side of each other The side we want them to be The side they want to be But we cant. What a perfect world it would be if you loved me
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Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 11:20 AM UTC
Two lovers
"It was as if the universes stood still... as if time created time within... Moments... built with nothing but... Love... I felt your soul through it all Till this moment my moments are just continuing... as if my soul my mind my spirit was a record and it was kept on loop I'm still reliving the most precious 6 hrs of my life... Anastasia... I'm falling" - F Anastasia... I'm falling. Yeah I am falling too... for all of the ******* tenacities, stories, and everything I ever wished to be true Falling for the "love at first sight" or with us it was "love at first type" but this world isn't a Disney movie no not "all your dreams will come true" "Dancing bears, painted wings, things I almost remember" Stuck up hairs, shattering things, fears that have me dismembered
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Dec 10, 2020
Dec 10, 2020 at 3:11 PM UTC
the poem nobody ever wrote to me
My own apathy terrifies me. How much do I care? Not enough. How much do I care? Not enough. How much do I care? Not enough. And the worst part is That measurement isn't borrowed It comes from my own jug but when I wasn't looking Someone poured out all the motivation and compassion. I had a dream my mother was dying I woke up with overflowing eyes Not because I was sad But because in the dream I didn't care and I knew I was supposed to. I broke my brother's arm by launching him into the air and Forgetting that he had only his own Fragile body to land on top of no that's a lie I didn't forget but I though he broke his neck And when the siren started blaring I knew that wasn't it and I didn't feel so sad anymore. Don't get the wrong idea I'm not a completely cold-hearted ***** This I know because I cry watching Anastasia Every ******* Time I donate to charity And don't let them give me the sticker to prove it I love small children and animals! That's a lie I've had to clean up ***** from both of those groups. And I've never made myself throw up but sometimes I forget to eat that's a lie I just can't be bothered Am I lethargic because that's typical of a teenager Or am I Only classed as typical teenager because I'm lethargic? I lie on my bed as still as a corpse And never once Think about death because Why does it matter? That's the only question He doesn't have an answer to Because I swear This boy is the second coming of Socrates He makes me think of Shakespeare And knowing i'm going to see him the next day is like waiting for Santa Claus. My own empathy terrifies me. How much do I care? Too much. How much do I care? Too much. How much do I care? Too much. And the worst part is The possibility That he might care about me too.
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Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 4:02 AM UTC
Antipathy.
My own apathy terrifies me. How much do I care? Not enough. How much do I care? Not enough. How much do I care? Not enough. And the worst part is That measurement isn't borrowed It comes from my own jug but when I wasn't looking Someone poured out all the motivation and compassion. I had a dream my mother was dying I woke up with overflowing eyes Not because I was sad But because in the dream I didn't care and I knew I was supposed to. I broke my brother's arm by launching him into the air and Forgetting that he had only his own Fragile body to land on top of no that's a lie I didn't forget but I though he broke his neck And when the siren started blaring I knew that wasn't it and I didn't feel so sad anymore. Don't get the wrong idea I'm not a completely cold-hearted ***** This I know because I cry watching Anastasia Every ******* Time I donate to charity And don't let them give me the sticker to prove it I love small children and animals! That's a lie I've had to clean up ***** from both of those groups. And I've never made myself throw up but sometimes I forget to eat that's a lie I just can't be bothered Am I lethargic because that's typical of a teenager Or am I Only classed as typical teenager because I'm lethargic? I lie on my bed as still as a corpse And never once Think about death because Why does it matter? That's the only question He doesn't have an answer to Because I swear This boy is the second coming of Socrates He makes me think of Shakespeare And knowing i'm going to see him the next day is like waiting for Santa Claus. My own empathy terrifies me. How much do I care? Too much. How much do I care? Too much. How much do I care? Too much. And the worst part is The possibility That he might care about me too.
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"You said you'd never leave, yet the going gets tough and you're out the door." "When did I say I'd never leave?" "In your sleep. It was the most comforting thing I'd heard in so long, Anastasia. It made me relax."
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Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 10:36 AM UTC
50 shades darker
A company girl A beauty like pearl Anastasia is the name She doesn't want any fame But she got it In just one click A money for the family Even though she'll be called 'filthy' Mr.grey a famous name A daddy for all dame No words to say When he started his play He caught her attention That increases their affection Does will lead to love? Or pure list will shove...
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Sep 18, 2017
Sep 18, 2017 at 6:04 AM UTC
Untitled
We are all ruined until we aren’t no more For me, society killed me and moved on I on the other hand have been stuck in limbo The future is a distant memory The past a door with no **** And the present feels like hemorrhoids An unnerving pain at the blissful of moments You would think life be simpler If only everything were black and white But my grey scale’s been tipped And my sight is way over five thousand Yet still I don’t dream just a misfit Like a misplaced piece of a puzzle You can see the picture but just can’t fix it
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Jun 7, 2016
Jun 7, 2016 at 2:28 PM UTC
Anastasia