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"dramatize" poems
Honesty: The quality of being honest Look at me directly in the eyes Before you lie When you agonize And dramatize I will analyze And I will realize And Recognize I will not empathize I will brutalize So I would not jeopardize Integrity: The quality of being honest and having strong moral principles With dignity Empathy Without enemies Ethically No jealousy Purity Seeing objectively Respectively Never causing unpleasantries The two go hand and hand Not Separately !!
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Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 8:58 PM UTC
Honesty and Integrity
You’re poisonous and I’m addicted to the burning in my throat, it’s wildfire with each word you share, lightly brushing stories of the topics I most detest and cannot force myself to simply forget. So instead, I try to shrug it off with darker tales from my past, but you continue and surpass them with ease, these claws of flames only rising, tearing into my soul, soon to combust with my distress and rage. I dramatize an unethical kiss with a boy, you mention five more; I hint at a taste for Captain’s, you prefer wraps and bowls. The newly tasted nicotine tears at my lungs, simply to spite you: you smoke it, so why can’t I? Backfire. I am no longer smart enough to accept things as they are, to my knees I surrender to your soul, but I cannot let go of the grudges and the confusing discomfort that comes with learning certain personal traits of yours. I cannot live in vulnerability below you, but these concrete bones cement my legs to the floor, so, instead, I blaze my own morals with my own choices, putting my health at risk with my own stupidity, creating new vices, this poisoning smoke, and a dependence on more than just myself.
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Jul 28, 2017
Jul 28, 2017 at 3:42 AM UTC
Fire with Fire
How ****** is it I experiment with sobriety, Deceive others to believe I’m functioning in society, Feel relieved only when drugs are inside of me, **** molly, benzos, oxy, LSD, DMT, ketamine, Feel more at peace in my dreams than reality, Its hard to believe others dramatize that part of me, Traumatized yet still I abuse losing my vitality, I’m a fool to use to cope with the stress of my adolescence morality, That’s an excuse from my poor mentality, I should be a young lady, but I don’t see it at present, am I an abnormality? Actually, It wasn’t my plan to neglect the lesson that might stand in place of this confession, Showing symptoms of depression, but all hopes is not lost, I can buy happiness I gave it a cost, my discretion I tossed aside I'm exhausted and losing my mind, I'm inclined to combine refined lines designed to unwind my kind, Remind myself I wont find the dragon, My life will end with a magnum, a drug induced tantrum, mental phantom hold me for ransom, I hope you can handle this rancid anthem i grant you, but I hope you can't relate because no mother ****** should have this fate, moving weight through their plate is no way to spend consecutive days, still So much hate, Irate till I escape, pills will sedate me, and I wait.. But remember..I wanted it this way.
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May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 2:41 PM UTC
Sobriety
I watch as they crumble some only for a moment, a flash of the inner turmoil a glimpse, a blink, and it's gone others, like staring into an open wound a gaping hole, still throbbing, still pulsing bleeding, slowly I sit head in hands trapped in the cycle of disbelief and fooling myself into relief I feel the passive observer unable to act, or speak, or move just sit I stare the panels above my head offer a temporary distraction this time, it wasn't just a dream yet it feels more like that than ever before the Reality rolls under my door and drifts through my window panes like a noxious fog curling in wisps along the blue tiled floor defying thermodynamics, cold rises, heat sinks seeping into my pores filling my lungs, running through my veins. I Know. yet I still imagine, fantasize, dramatize a cruel joke, a terrible mistake a diagnosis totally amiss the phone Rings a tremor of relief begins to quake inside of me soon to be dashed by the words transmitted across that line I run outside into the morning sun the greenery astounds and amazes the thirst of the Earth, quenched at last as a child I always looked up to the sky to the clouds as the End, the finality high above, unreachable, untouchable and yet, here I am, Earthbound, temporal, running through the gentle misting drops of a cloud
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Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 1:10 PM UTC
permeate
I don't sleep. I pace. I ponder. I plan. I plot. I worry. I wonder. I wax. I wane. I relive. I rethink. I rehash. I regret. I contemplate. I evaluate. I deliberate. I ruminate. I analyze. I strategise. I dramatize. I fantasize. I brood. I delude. I stress. I obsess. I oppress. I'm a mess.. & I don't sleep.
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Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 12:48 AM UTC
Insomnia;
I finished moving into my residential college as a storm began - fat raindrops, as big as coconuts, falling from a black and fouling sky. These northerners were acting like a "tropical storm" (Henri) was a big deal. “Surely New England gets storms?” I ask, from behind my mask. “What about NOR_Easters?” I say, like a meteorologist. “Those are different.” I’m told, with no other explanation. “Did you bring this storm from the “SOUTH?” I’m asked, accusingly. (This was after I told them about coming from one ”bulldog-college-town” to another.) “Yes.” I reply, “It was in my luggage.” A silly question but they have a point - the storm feels like it’s involved and fulfilling some obligation to dramatize my college move-in story. “Time to quarantine!” I’m informed - “Yep, can’t WAIT!” I lie. One disaster at a time.
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Aug 22, 2021
Aug 22, 2021 at 2:41 PM UTC
stormy skies
There is the loud talker, so please protect your ears.  She may go on, and on, and may never yield. There is the loud talker, who may love to show-off.  She may continue to speak, even if she have to cough. There is the loud talker, who love to dramatize.  She will give you a great performance, right before your eyes. There is the loud talker, who is always using her tongue.  Around this type of person, you just cannot have fun. There may be hope for this loud mouth person, politely slip away.  Find a nice quiet corner, so you can bow and pray.   Ask God to heal her deep down, especially, her inner ears.  She does not have a clue, that she cannot properly hear. By, Author & Poet, Sandra Juanita Nailing
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Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 10:55 PM UTC
The Loud Talker
It lingered in the twilight expanses beneath where I rest my soul and head,I heard its mumblings, incoherent not upon my ears was either understood. Clinging to the expanse of what was underneath,  it was a warm night but beneath was breath chilled and frigid that my hair stood on end. I saw its exhalation from form to nothingness. My mirror in the corner I would swift fully gaze, but all I saw was darkness and those eyes that followed me across the bed. Like a cobra it did gaze upon my movement hypnotic in essence. Wanton curiosity of a mind so young, a finger, a thumb, a hand now I wave under the bed. But nothing heeds my gesture under my creaking mattress i wave in oblivion by nothing signals back. I rest my weary eyes, then slumber to those places where my innocence does dramatize the actions of the day. but while the blinds are closed it reaches from its depths, it knows i now slumber its time to play. I walk on the ice skating as I go, but then my feet are constrained and as the moments pass, i am entombed from below to up above, but just before my sight freezes i see a hockey puck, shattered in tears i fall. Awoken by this moment  gazing upon the floor, there is no darkness as there was before. Instead there is light, orange in  its glow, it seem warmer till engulfed in combustion and I awaken once more. A merry go round of images one as contorted as the former, now I seem to be on a merrygoround of distorted reality. Concluding this is a dream as i moved from one cunvulising moemtn to the next. I say "No more, as my eyes begin to bleed, as fingers sink deep into the pots. "There is no going home for I am here now till i drain you till your death, I awaken once again to a place I know the best. But I am indenial as where i rest only faint whispers are heard upon my breath, for this thing that lingers beneath has all but finished its ingestion of my essence as i have only a few ceaseless moments left. Darkness envelopes me, I'm a prisoner within in a cell, in the middle a bed. A place to rest a weary head, I had fallen prey to that which hungers sleep. For the energy it took now I'm now in tormented death.
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Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 4:57 PM UTC
It Baited My Dreams With Dread
It lingered in the twilight expanses beneath where I rest my soul and head,I heard its mumblings, incoherent not upon my ears was either understood. Clinging to the expanse of what was underneath,  it was a warm night but beneath was breath chilled and frigid that my hair stood on end. I saw its exhalation from form to nothingness. My mirror in the corner I would swift fully gaze, but all I saw was darkness and those eyes that followed me across the bed. Like a cobra it did gaze upon my movement hypnotic in essence. Wanton curiosity of a mind so young, a finger, a thumb, a hand now I wave under the bed. But nothing heeds my gesture under my creaking mattress i wave in oblivion by nothing signals back. I rest my weary eyes, then slumber to those places where my innocence does dramatize the actions of the day. but while the blinds are closed it reaches from its depths, it knows i now slumber its time to play. I walk on the ice skating as I go, but then my feet are constrained and as the moments pass, i am entombed from below to up above, but just before my sight freezes i see a hockey puck, shattered in tears i fall. Awoken by this moment  gazing upon the floor, there is no darkness as there was before. Instead there is light, orange in  its glow, it seem warmer till engulfed in combustion and I awaken once more. A merry go round of images one as contorted as the former, now I seem to be on a merrygoround of distorted reality. Concluding this is a dream as i moved from one cunvulising moemtn to the next. I say "No more, as my eyes begin to bleed, as fingers sink deep into the pots. "There is no going home for I am here now till i drain you till your death, I awaken once again to a place I know the best. But I am indenial as where i rest only faint whispers are heard upon my breath, for this thing that lingers beneath has all but finished its ingestion of my essence as i have only a few ceaseless moments left. Darkness envelopes me, I'm a prisoner within in a cell, in the middle a bed. A place to rest a weary head, I had fallen prey to that which hungers sleep. For the energy it took now I'm now in tormented death.
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17
when north weird hep exactly danced grassy knoll she'd wake in bed there then flee Bondi thereafter that dramatize her skin tan with splash of coconut thus vacation only hinder her stay here again
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Feb 24, 2018
Feb 24, 2018 at 12:49 PM UTC
North Bondi
Remember, when you said that you wanted to die? Because of those countless accusations regarding your lies I told you to stand up, live, just give it a try But you still keep on asking me all your thousand whys I'm speechless, unable to answer because of the thought I'm not wise I punched my stomach, cause of anxiety, wanting to **** the butterflies I still showed care towards you even my emotions were on disguise You hugged me and whispered, "I'm HOPELESS" then you cried I was there, I've swept the tears beneath your eyes "I'm here for you and I will stand up for you" I replied Slowly, our lips collide and they began to dramatize This memory was just a proof that my efforts aren't denied A precious moment of victory from suicide, because you SURVIVE!
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Aug 21, 2015
Aug 21, 2015 at 10:43 PM UTC
Final Words
I would like to go back a thousand years ago, just to sleep. For I'm drenched in thoughtlessness. I ache for some relieve. And I'm trying, solely not to burn up. and I do not mean to over dramatize, but I'm lost. Which I guess is usual for being 20. Only 20, as I eat myself up in tv shows and confusion. And I watch the world get married and have babies, but I don't want that, No I don't need that. Nor do I really want that. As profs talk as if I care, about their useless pieces of info they throw at me, except the one about dinos. I like that. But anyways I sit and here they look at me as if I really give a **** I want a job. Don't they understand. And I parked in the wrong spot today, and the critique went bad and I overpaid on an earl grey latte and wasted my day watching friends all day. But we all have those bad days. And I'm trying trying trying so hard not to think bad thoughts. But the weather is rainy, and I'm still tired. This ever longing tiredness. But I drew today. I drew my sorrows away, and no matter what those stingy profs say, I can draw. I draw to keep myself together. I draw so I don't think the bad thoughts, to keep my jealous thoughts back at bay. So I quit making a fool of myself, the only think I know how to do is draw. And I have a wide open summer, of no plans, or prospering, or any real progress. Isn't that sad? To dread your own summer. Maybe after having summer so many times, it loses it's freedom quality. It becomes just another season to endure. And that's sad. It's sad when you can't look forward to summer. Cause summer was once a fantasy. A sense of adventure accompanied summer. And I look at summer now with a dread and inability to really be ready or excited for it. That's really sad. And I'm not writing to make you sad, but I'm writing out of my inability to understand this sadness. I'm trying to hold on to something... Maybe this sadness will pass into something I can hold onto. And coincidently were talking about the blues...in class. Not really helping my melancholy frankly. I think teachers are so wrapped up in their own cynical life they like to spread it onto others.
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Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 6:49 PM UTC
rainy day
I would like to go back a thousand years ago, just to sleep. For I'm drenched in thoughtlessness. I ache for some relieve. And I'm trying, solely not to burn up. and I do not mean to over dramatize, but I'm lost. Which I guess is usual for being 20. Only 20, as I eat myself up in tv shows and confusion. And I watch the world get married and have babies, but I don't want that, No I don't need that. Nor do I really want that. As profs talk as if I care, about their useless pieces of info they throw at me, except the one about dinos. I like that. But anyways I sit and here they look at me as if I really give a **** I want a job. Don't they understand. And I parked in the wrong spot today, and the critique went bad and I overpaid on an earl grey latte and wasted my day watching friends all day. But we all have those bad days. And I'm trying trying trying so hard not to think bad thoughts. But the weather is rainy, and I'm still tired. This ever longing tiredness. But I drew today. I drew my sorrows away, and no matter what those stingy profs say, I can draw. I draw to keep myself together. I draw so I don't think the bad thoughts, to keep my jealous thoughts back at bay. So I quit making a fool of myself, the only think I know how to do is draw. And I have a wide open summer, of no plans, or prospering, or any real progress. Isn't that sad? To dread your own summer. Maybe after having summer so many times, it loses it's freedom quality. It becomes just another season to endure. And that's sad. It's sad when you can't look forward to summer. Cause summer was once a fantasy. A sense of adventure accompanied summer. And I look at summer now with a dread and inability to really be ready or excited for it. That's really sad. And I'm not writing to make you sad, but I'm writing out of my inability to understand this sadness. I'm trying to hold on to something... Maybe this sadness will pass into something I can hold onto. And coincidently were talking about the blues...in class. Not really helping my melancholy frankly. I think teachers are so wrapped up in their own cynical life they like to spread it onto others.
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35
I am not a winner because I haven't fallen into the trap of sensitivity I have lost because my peers dramatize every little thing I am not a winner because I don't support implausible charities I remain a loser for ignoring activities The world sees me as a demonic result of the old generation My morals are corrupt along with my "hypocritical" religion My story has no lies, yet I receive smug looks and dry eyes since I'm not a third world survivor They believe I'm the reason why This world is so racist Why girls continue to say I'm a sexist I am not a winner Because my struggles are incredibly Un-credible I have lost And I will never be seen
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Dec 6, 2015
Dec 6, 2015 at 2:23 PM UTC
Tasting the Same Colors
No one knows what I’m thinking about when I think about Her. And no one knows how close Her and I were. We went together better than lemon and lime, But now I have a major problem because I think about Her all the time. I try and try but I can’t get Her off my mind. If I try to talk about it, I already know what it is I’ll find. I will be told I’m stalking, When all I’m doing is talking. How could I even think of hurting Her, the one I truly love? It’s as impossible as God mercilessly killing a newborn dove! All I really want to do is apologize, Everyone else just wants to dramatize! I know it seems like I’m overdoing it, But if you understood even half of it, you would ease up quite a bit. I know that me future behavior is judged by my past, But everyone is jumping to conclusions way too fast! I will say it again; NEVER again will I hurt Her! If you were me you would understand; Oh, if only you were! For if you were me, you would finally see, The honesty that is inside of me. Love for Her is number one on my list, I would keep going, but I think you get the gist.
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Aug 25, 2011
Aug 25, 2011 at 2:03 PM UTC
Her
You are a great friend, Mi Aŕmour. A friend i've saved wishes for. But what must be said, must be said that you can't fathom my grief and the weight of unsaid. You drew over the mountains of stillness of mine and felt the breeze of all my trades yet my grief is something you finger point and critize. Telling that i over dramatize. Not in words but your actions tell and i hold every reason for this friendship to befell. Yet i cling, i cling, i cling to belief that this grief must not be shared as it will be ridiculed in paper or with friends. “So be it!” i exclaim as my pen drops.
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Sep 20, 2025
Sep 20, 2025 at 8:02 AM UTC
Just a great friend
I close one eye, but with the other, I see everything bright, and I'm telling myself “let's move on", let's try my luck" with a smile like a curve that makes everything right, I'm not allowed to scream, to cry, or to get stuck. For whatever path we choose in life, the truth or the lies, we all pay a certain fee, it will rain on our shoulder, and even if we don't get there, we don't dramatize, we travel with a restless soul, like a solitary soldier. We cry rivers of tears in our pain, seeking for our spirit, we wear coloured masks, between war and peace, from life's teachings, we build a bridge, we don't quit, and wandering, we cross it, as long as our heart beats.
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Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 4:43 AM UTC
PATHS OF LIFE
No need for blanket statements To keep you warm at night A fraction of a volcano Is all we need to be reminded Of the sweetest things in life We sow the seeds of discontentment And select our portion of the heavens Because when it rains it pours And when you're ****** you snore As loud as a thousand sleeping serpents Disenchanted on a semester out at sea Feel free to dramatize your shadows And create your own cages You can decorate them with candles But portraying fear is not the answer We may personify victory as a dancer Until we are all cantankerous old shadows And flaming arrows land on our papers We are out of place like sand in a limo I birth poems for Eros Images appear in your rear-view mirror You are my hero Imagination is a flavor That I would love to explore You are the color of my endurance And if our performances are frozen Then we'll have no more gas for the fire Tonight let's get a little closer And tell the stories of our ancestors Only your magic highlighter Could turn all of these Strange words into poetry
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Aug 30, 2019
Aug 30, 2019 at 4:00 PM UTC
Vitamin E(ros)
For ratings!! Dramatize?? I have to wonder if there is not some lies Where no rules apply Stories revised Acts like all is a surprise Ah!! How they can justify   All the stories or some they customize Bad people they glorify and romanticize Some restraint they need to exercise How could they not realize I don't want to see bodies that are not alive Constantly telling stories that terrifies This world, they need to help stabilize Minds they help to vandalize BREAKING NEWS!!! What qualifies?? I don't need to be reminded how the world is becoming demoralized WHY??
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Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 5:38 PM UTC
The News Media
I need a word A word that means More than Miss A word that shows Need Want For a touch A kiss A word that can bring Pain to life And drive mind Insane I need a word To snow and rain A word more than Distraught Or die I need a word To dramatize The ache The murmur The treachery Of a beating heart With memories That I have yet To silence Forget That I cannot But weep And let Devour me And keep my sleep I need a word Of ice and heat Of marks Upon his Caramel skin Scratches Bite marks Lend to pen A word Ye fairies Of misery Lend me a word So I can see The agony Stained Upon a page Away from me And lent to stage A story Play Within A book Lend me word So I may look Outside myself And free Of me Lend me word Of Missing He Of broken Jagged Crooked lies Lend me word And lullabies To end this Ache inside my chest Upon with pleasure He did rest Oh fates, Starfucked And blatantly Without A word Or ink Or me... Nothing Invisible Nothing will suffice And so I end Without words Without ...... Goodnight........ MV
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Sep 28, 2017
Sep 28, 2017 at 12:54 AM UTC
Without A Word
What would you do If I reached out to you Not for the first time But also not the last time Previously, you've been cruel to me All for no good reason And it's made me see you differently I wanted to think that you had a good soul I'm hoping you prove me wrong If I come back once more We don't have to fight We can keep it between ourselves I just long to speak with you again Know who you are, maybe become friends It's childish to continue avoiding me When we used to be very close And preferred each other's company I want to get to know you And I'm not hesitant to try But do you really deserve it? All you did was lie I'm wondering now what your reaction will be If I try to revisit what happened between you and me Will you attack me with anger and disdain Will you ignore me and solely cause me more pain Or will you answer and begin to apologize Allow us to move on instead of dramatize The situation at hand could be better It's in your control and all up to you We used to work so well together Don't forget how you wrote me a poem or two They were about love rather than hate and doom I know you must think back on those days So when I reach out I hope to find That you've changed your ways
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May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 3:02 PM UTC
What Would You Do
Im sorry i push Im sorry i build walls Im sorry i snap Im sorry my moods swing Everything is blown up Everything is warped Everything is twisted A small problem to you Is a tower ready to crush me You wont understand I know that But dont get frustrated Because i know I know im being ridiculous I know im being illogical I know im being dramatic I know im being exaggerated I know Yet i cant help it Im trying like hell Im working really hard Im fighting through it Im working on chipping at the tower So it doesnt crush me Normal things to you Like school and work and a social life It blurs together for me It molds and warps into an ocean An ocean of rough seas and deep water In the simplest problem I drown I sink to the bottom like a stone is at my ankle I sink so deep that i can barely see the surface The end or solution of the problem is only visable through moving water So i cant tell I cant see I can't focus When i concentrate really hard I can see it I know how to fix it I know what to do But then it gets blurry again The waves wash over me once more And im alone Drowning in the depths of anxiety Completely alone because no one can hear me cry No one can feel the burn in my lungs as i gasp for air No one can hear the muddled and clustered thoughts that crash in my head Im drowning Im drowning and i know how to fix it But its really hard for me You say its simple But to me, its not Its like swimming in a rough ocean With a rock tied to my ankle So im sorry Im sorry im not strong Im sorry i exaggerate Im sorry i dramatize Im sorry im over the top Im sorry i cant fix it Im sorry im not good at this Im sorry i havent gotten it quite Im working on it Im fighting Im swimming Im climbing Im doing whatever it takes to be on top with you Because i love you And I want to be with you
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Apr 30, 2018
Apr 30, 2018 at 11:57 PM UTC
I'm Sorry
Im sorry i push Im sorry i build walls Im sorry i snap Im sorry my moods swing Everything is blown up Everything is warped Everything is twisted A small problem to you Is a tower ready to crush me You wont understand I know that But dont get frustrated Because i know I know im being ridiculous I know im being illogical I know im being dramatic I know im being exaggerated I know Yet i cant help it Im trying like hell Im working really hard Im fighting through it Im working on chipping at the tower So it doesnt crush me Normal things to you Like school and work and a social life It blurs together for me It molds and warps into an ocean An ocean of rough seas and deep water In the simplest problem I drown I sink to the bottom like a stone is at my ankle I sink so deep that i can barely see the surface The end or solution of the problem is only visable through moving water So i cant tell I cant see I can't focus When i concentrate really hard I can see it I know how to fix it I know what to do But then it gets blurry again The waves wash over me once more And im alone Drowning in the depths of anxiety Completely alone because no one can hear me cry No one can feel the burn in my lungs as i gasp for air No one can hear the muddled and clustered thoughts that crash in my head Im drowning Im drowning and i know how to fix it But its really hard for me You say its simple But to me, its not Its like swimming in a rough ocean With a rock tied to my ankle So im sorry Im sorry im not strong Im sorry i exaggerate Im sorry i dramatize Im sorry im over the top Im sorry i cant fix it Im sorry im not good at this Im sorry i havent gotten it quite Im working on it Im fighting Im swimming Im climbing Im doing whatever it takes to be on top with you Because i love you And I want to be with you
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70
I dislike I despise The stuffy minds And the philistines Wearing virtue signs Like dressed figurines In pop social themes Or faux thoughts and prayers Displayed on twitter feeds For their attention needs All superficial cares And sophomoric ideologies Demanding apologies Like commodities And all that that implies I dislike I despise Those who dramatize Moralize and jeopardize Like a line of merchandize The free human mind And all that that implies
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Apr 24, 2018
Apr 24, 2018 at 12:51 PM UTC
I Dislike I Despise
i lie awake in the dark. the moths are dancing around my vision and the flies are buzzing in my ears. the moon looks round and pretty today, the sky is clear and the stars can be seen. i wonder if you can see them too from where you are. i wonder if you mistake venus as one of them, like i do. i wonder if you feel like collecting them all and making them yours. i wonder if they lead you into thinking of me.   the next day i sit alone on that green bench, the one near the river. i think about how life is ironic for making you leave the day i arrive. i think about dark roads and apocalyptic scenarios, where i'm waiting for you to save me. i think about how this town is a play and we're its puppets: playing along the rules, dressing up as characters that’ll please the audience. as the lights go out and the city sleeps, i ponder if you like me for who i am and if i love you for who you are: if what i've seen of you is a person or a persona, one that makes me exaggerate and dramatize, that makes me turn three memories into a million and three days of summer into a year. one that makes me drunk off sun and daydreams, that makes me turn hello into i've missed you and goodbye into i'll see you again.
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Jul 4, 2018
Jul 4, 2018 at 11:42 AM UTC
the anthem of a lost cause