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"supressed" poems
*The taste of your tongue lingers on me A taste of honey encrusted in gold It shines and sparkles even in the dead of the night Our muffled voices echo in these four walls The room smelled of animal musk A mix of heaven and sugar combined Your taste supressed the heavenly bodies' light and gave me light brighter than Sun.*
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Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 10:46 AM UTC
Taste of Sparkles
Cooking up a blizzard. Lost and unguided tendrils of space hold me captive, the trebles of your heart beating leads me back to my my Home. That infinite gaze of yours into my dilapidated eyes, is like a portal to you to look into my soul. You blanket all my darkness With your semi-pixie cut. You’re my tree of knowledge I bask in it’s shade. Powdered Sugar coating on cupcakes. Your silk armour protects your vulnerability, My sincere apologies to all the arrows that gaped through. Cover me under your angel wings, Dab away my streaming reservoirs and replace them with pollen and sweet nectar. Your wishbone sacramental daydreams and dreams. I feel so lost without you. Bandage my old wounds with your tender hands, Kiss me with your lush lips sending jolts of star dust upstream, within my veins dancing with yours palpitating feet. My shot of euphoria and bleeding antidote. My poetry. You, Kalon. Let’s raise a toast to your beauté remarquable éternel, mon soleil your free spirit, your beauty of a ghost, your heart racing with joy, your heart steaming up with reticent sadness, build up anger that come crashing down like a typhoon detaching from the human perspecta. I miss you. Your emotional mess and literal mess, I’m your magic broom. You, my inspiration. You, my groove. You, my you. You. My everyone and everything. You’re fun filled supressed omnipresent electric feel. You, The only Solis in my galaxy. I love you. Sharing your grandoise orangy tinge yellow light. Bottling up a few star in a bottle of red wine, For her Luna. Solis is 21 a (000,000,000) today. You’re irreplacable.
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Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 10:14 PM UTC
Luna.
Cooking up a blizzard. Lost and unguided tendrils of space hold me captive, the trebles of your heart beating leads me back to my my Home. That infinite gaze of yours into my dilapidated eyes, is like a portal to you to look into my soul. You blanket all my darkness With your semi-pixie cut. You’re my tree of knowledge I bask in it’s shade. Powdered Sugar coating on cupcakes. Your silk armour protects your vulnerability, My sincere apologies to all the arrows that gaped through. Cover me under your angel wings, Dab away my streaming reservoirs and replace them with pollen and sweet nectar. Your wishbone sacramental daydreams and dreams. I feel so lost without you. Bandage my old wounds with your tender hands, Kiss me with your lush lips sending jolts of star dust upstream, within my veins dancing with yours palpitating feet. My shot of euphoria and bleeding antidote. My poetry. You, Kalon. Let’s raise a toast to your beauté remarquable éternel, mon soleil your free spirit, your beauty of a ghost, your heart racing with joy, your heart steaming up with reticent sadness, build up anger that come crashing down like a typhoon detaching from the human perspecta. I miss you. Your emotional mess and literal mess, I’m your magic broom. You, my inspiration. You, my groove. You, my you. You. My everyone and everything. You’re fun filled supressed omnipresent electric feel. You, The only Solis in my galaxy. I love you. Sharing your grandoise orangy tinge yellow light. Bottling up a few star in a bottle of red wine, For her Luna. Solis is 21 a (000,000,000) today. You’re irreplacable.
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49
Stretch me out and count me like clouds Say she is vapour Venom, velvet and vermouth With hair of hazelnut rapture Clutch the moments, clutch the moonbeams Clutch the stretched out skies of cloud and mustard gas sunset Sing she is a child of trauma Supressed in the name of breathing Violence in the name of skin And she is venom, velvet and vermouth She was born to pink salt lakes in the low country With ruby pomegranate eyes And hair of hazelnut rapture Girl with the soul of a thousand pilgrim journeys Girl with the soul of a blackberry bush Girl with the soul of olive trees and sheep meat and oven bread in the fire country Human smiles And other dark things of value She lies like velvet She lies in the name of supressing traumas In the name of breathing She bleeds like a billion stars bleed vapour She is venom and vermouth With hair of hazelnut rapture She is the sum of a thousand pilgrim journeys The prayer of holy rivers in the canyon country The smoke of incense burned by sages The scars of bodies burned by crusaders in mustard gas chambers Goddess of Nuclear energies Red-eyed like ruby pomegranates Like the dewy cauldron of morning When tenuous steps lead bodies down the path of executionary revolution To boarders, frontiers, walls of white-skin scar tissue Sing songs of Babylon in the free country Clutch the moments Clutch your breaths and hold them in broken palms Clutch the tides and teach them Breach your rib-cage, unstitch and return the borrowed bones Melt the metaphoric thrones Breathe backwards in the name of unsupressing traumas In the name of truth Stretch me out and count me like clouds Girl of angel-breath ambition Soul of blackberry bush and smile of splintered terracotta tile Sing your songs Say she is vapour
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Jan 26, 2017
Jan 26, 2017 at 1:32 PM UTC
Self Portrait
Stretch me out and count me like clouds Say she is vapour Venom, velvet and vermouth With hair of hazelnut rapture Clutch the moments, clutch the moonbeams Clutch the stretched out skies of cloud and mustard gas sunset Sing she is a child of trauma Supressed in the name of breathing Violence in the name of skin And she is venom, velvet and vermouth She was born to pink salt lakes in the low country With ruby pomegranate eyes And hair of hazelnut rapture Girl with the soul of a thousand pilgrim journeys Girl with the soul of a blackberry bush Girl with the soul of olive trees and sheep meat and oven bread in the fire country Human smiles And other dark things of value She lies like velvet She lies in the name of supressing traumas In the name of breathing She bleeds like a billion stars bleed vapour She is venom and vermouth With hair of hazelnut rapture She is the sum of a thousand pilgrim journeys The prayer of holy rivers in the canyon country The smoke of incense burned by sages The scars of bodies burned by crusaders in mustard gas chambers Goddess of Nuclear energies Red-eyed like ruby pomegranates Like the dewy cauldron of morning When tenuous steps lead bodies down the path of executionary revolution To boarders, frontiers, walls of white-skin scar tissue Sing songs of Babylon in the free country Clutch the moments Clutch your breaths and hold them in broken palms Clutch the tides and teach them Breach your rib-cage, unstitch and return the borrowed bones Melt the metaphoric thrones Breathe backwards in the name of unsupressing traumas In the name of truth Stretch me out and count me like clouds Girl of angel-breath ambition Soul of blackberry bush and smile of splintered terracotta tile Sing your songs Say she is vapour
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46
I could fall to the ground and forget that it hurts When I see them smile, I know the pain that is supressed. Drowning beneath a shadow of endless regrets, What they are, where they come from, a nation begets. Hiding behind a veil of corruption, Unknowingly had them intercede. Rising smoke, from a burning soul, Hear their cries, they hide, yet plead. How can you pass them, not notice their tears and agony? Is your life that beautiful, you can't stop and extend a hand? Building cities, empires, and fools, you complain! Why, the minute you let your feet touch the ground, You'll see what the world looks like, Behind that mask of glittering facade.
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May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 2:34 PM UTC
Hear them cry
Her eyes Were always Full of mischief They sparkled with delight, And always had That special glint in them. But if you looked closely enough You would see Swollen rims From crying herself to sleep. That sparkle You'd think you knew so well Was merely a mask For the true dullness And lack of hope Within. And perhaps If you looked longed enough You would see The very beginnings Of a supressed tear. If only I realised what was going on In her eyes Before it was too late.
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Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 4:06 AM UTC
Her Eyes
A minute of your attention Just pretend I'm something Let me rent a room inside you With all this stress pressing hard Down, I'm supressed, I'm the nail Pull me out of this wooden smell Had my anxiety crave for admiration Leave me a trace of hope for love Leave me a page from your history On this silent road I just want to hear a horn An affectionate one A residue to remind myself It's meaningful to wait Or could it mean to move on?
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Apr 1, 2017
Apr 1, 2017 at 3:59 AM UTC
Like Me
Someone asked me About how old I am today He proceeded to tell me That next year I'll be a year older I supressed the tears And gave a pretentious laugh I couldn't imagine next year Being alive for another year
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Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 2:10 PM UTC
Birthdays
Overcast and gloom Completely colorless In utter helplessness Suffocated in clouds of black Nights I lay restless Days I feel reckless I wish I could go back To when smiles were genuine To when yellows and pinks Supressed blues and greys An internal storm is stirring From darkness and dolour Cheers to the day I see colour
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May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 11:05 AM UTC
Colour
Melancholy; Melt in lands Unholy In an abyss of Harm supressed; Between two palms pressed Together. Remind us we are Desolate; Descending to a Solitary fate Where days Gloomy; Glue me To my memories Cold cruelty and Shame; An attempt at shadowing The untamed.
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Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 9:14 PM UTC
Melancholy
Clumped claws of supressed dirt reach from sunken ships filled to the brim with swollen tongues and bulging with the bubbling breath of voices drowned in death clinging to my every step; soiled bubble gum, like mosquito bites on my scalp.. They itch
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Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 4:58 AM UTC
Bubble Breath Itch
a little bit of sparkle a little dab of something a scent to match your every mood unable to remain motionless fiddling with a sense of helplessness to correct past past mistakes would be like re-writing a book but theres no regret, only moving forward nights full of possibilty full of adventure intrigue at every corner i know that look, i get it there is a need for me to move forward with you but my feet keep dragging and secretly, ever so secretly your heart rips the more you move forward almost in half it shall be lost soon then you will be truly stuck. envy on both sides respect comes with comfort this secret understanding not so secret since we are both in it some secrets are meant to remain secrets some supressed memories are meant to be shared but only between us only us.
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Mar 30, 2010
Mar 30, 2010 at 4:59 PM UTC
My best friend (the understanding of secrets)
I'm so confused, Like a ticking bomb, I need to be defused My feelings are jared up Mixed emotions -- I do not know where to start Met you in my worst, And you stayed. And that made it even worst You make me feel less cynical, Clearer than crystal, Every move now is critical What magic do you posses? With one look everything is supressed, Smile and the sleepless world is at rest I want you, I need you But I can never have you.
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Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 3:02 AM UTC
Haven
Is this how it feels? Depression? To feel empty and hollow inside, Not caring about anything? To want to cry every second of the day? I feel fat. Unwanted. Emotional. I am self-concious and depressed. I just wish I knew how to help myself. This is a hurt that can only be supressed by icecream. Ben & Jerry's come save me.
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Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 4:39 PM UTC
Ben & Jerry's Type of Hurt
Flawed eventless, the muck to the mire To the river crimson with lustful haze. Supressed desire flows like light, rapture to the gaze. Feverd, clamy, tossing, turning Lying wrestless on the floor. Sarrow slips, through the cracks, to come smashing through the door. Famin parched, the scream to the cry, to the path trampled in fits of rage. Unrelenting fire, burns like ice, denile in a cage. Calm, relaxed, watching, breathing, Standing idle at the sash. Anguish waits at beck and call to come crashing  through the glass. Hidden in a seamless world of delight and joy and glee A fractured cloud of misery waits to have its cake and thee, to reval as it sulks with company. Ever growing spawned by fear, deathly silent in its' plea Eating away at the sinews of faith, dispair awaits its' time to flea. Akin to death, friend to evil, slient screaming in its' vain Dissolving with trust the passion of the lust Envy plies to its bain. Passion and fire, burning desire, these monsters are not the same. All too familiar, confusing just the same, betrayed by flesh. What is there cannot be had, for surely this is no game.
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Aug 3, 2012
Aug 3, 2012 at 4:04 PM UTC
Love Lost Never Had
hey mom, lately I haven't been okay don't you see as you look me in the eye everyday? the circles under my eyes are a little too deep although nowadays all that I do is sleep mom, last month, someone at school tried suicide downing a bottle of paracetamol as he cried I wanted to tell you about him, 'cause now he's dead, but I remembered some of the things that you said when the other day you were at the drug store you heard someone overdosed on paracetamol you laughed then you said, "why hold back at all? why not drink poison? that'll work for sure!" mom, I looked it up, it only takes fifteen tablets fifteen of paracetamol and it'll send me straight to a casket mom, what if I were that overdosing teen? if I take only fourteen, would you tell me the same thing? mom, I've been starving myself - I hardly eat I don't know how I'm still managing on my feet that's fine anyway, you told me I should go on a diet so go on and tell me that I'm fat, I'll just keep quiet hey mom, my arms are lined up with slits but you're worried about if my clothes still fit so I'll keep my mouth shut, I won't make things bigger maybe if I tell my friends I'll feel a little better mom, everyone keeps telling me I'm depressed that I've got all these emotions inside me supressed I only listen to you, mom, and I ignore the rest after all, doesn't the saying go "mother knows best"? mom, if I wanted to die, what would you do? 'cause if I tell you, I feel like you'd just say, "me, too!" don't worry, mom, if I'm suddenly gone one day I've learned to hate myself because of you anyway mom, everyday is becoming a little too tough I'm just holding on 'til I can cut deep enough maybe it would be a nice surprise for me and you if killing myself is something I finally do.
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Feb 23, 2018
Feb 23, 2018 at 10:32 AM UTC
dear mom
hey mom, lately I haven't been okay don't you see as you look me in the eye everyday? the circles under my eyes are a little too deep although nowadays all that I do is sleep mom, last month, someone at school tried suicide downing a bottle of paracetamol as he cried I wanted to tell you about him, 'cause now he's dead, but I remembered some of the things that you said when the other day you were at the drug store you heard someone overdosed on paracetamol you laughed then you said, "why hold back at all? why not drink poison? that'll work for sure!" mom, I looked it up, it only takes fifteen tablets fifteen of paracetamol and it'll send me straight to a casket mom, what if I were that overdosing teen? if I take only fourteen, would you tell me the same thing? mom, I've been starving myself - I hardly eat I don't know how I'm still managing on my feet that's fine anyway, you told me I should go on a diet so go on and tell me that I'm fat, I'll just keep quiet hey mom, my arms are lined up with slits but you're worried about if my clothes still fit so I'll keep my mouth shut, I won't make things bigger maybe if I tell my friends I'll feel a little better mom, everyone keeps telling me I'm depressed that I've got all these emotions inside me supressed I only listen to you, mom, and I ignore the rest after all, doesn't the saying go "mother knows best"? mom, if I wanted to die, what would you do? 'cause if I tell you, I feel like you'd just say, "me, too!" don't worry, mom, if I'm suddenly gone one day I've learned to hate myself because of you anyway mom, everyday is becoming a little too tough I'm just holding on 'til I can cut deep enough maybe it would be a nice surprise for me and you if killing myself is something I finally do.
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36
Don't resist my charm Don't think I bring harm Because I will not I'm here to twist some knot Just go with the flow Let emotion show Supressed feeling Will give you nothing But imbalance life And sometimes strife See the twinkle in my eye And my sweet alluring smile As I sway my perfect hips And pout my red-tainted lips While I flip my red-brown hair I know you want me in your lair How can you resist my charm I'm a seductress, I am.
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Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 8:27 PM UTC
Untitled
Well Benny just bought some F-35's, so he can hit Iran with no regrets. He knows that Rupert will help him and FOX will make sure the truth is supressed. B-b-b-Benny and the Jets. When Iran hits back then they'll spin the facts, say the attack was unprovoked. Benny thinks he's so slick, but he's making mistakes he might be the next one to get smoked. B-b-b-Benny and the Jets. He's got 400 Nukes, chemical weapons too, but you won't read that in a magazine, no, no. B-b-b-Benny and the Jets.
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Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 2:00 PM UTC
Benny And The Jets
Beyond the trees in the clearing stood courage unclothed; always the preferred attire. Its gender, female; hence I will refer to it here as she.   Such femininity supressed in the webbed corners of masculine satire. To know it is to have it, to have it is to use it. Of course she recognises fear hiding in the wind that bends the trees–she too, is afraid.   She stands at the water’s edge, stoops to see she has no reflection, only blue sky staring back with a whisper, “Where there is no reflection there is courage.”   She exists in the space it takes to step from this place to the next. Courage will guide you when there is no water and if you get lost, look up, —She is there too.
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Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 9:28 PM UTC
Courage
that place… that place where you..don't…know whats right or whats wrong that place where you just are not quite yourself; yet not estranged by a strangeness completely that funk that is what this is do I feel extra or not quite is this excess or insufficiency Do i jump into action abounding with love or stay put for fear of the funk that follows quirky tendencies or supressed emotion? stirring. twisting. explosion of thoughts of none but a barren wasteland that slowly crawls through the excessive chatter that fills me to the brim. is it grim? or a beautiful bounty of raw, ****** toils of the soul blessed, or cursed I Am This Place.
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May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 1:11 AM UTC
The Funk
And you wonder why blood was spilt And about the wars that have killed There's things in life you can't accept You would fight till you die Than stand a day in its mess And you wonder why blood was spilt And about the wars that have killed Freedom has a high price And it's not given It's taken by the oppressed And you dont have to look far At the world's most horrific tragedies Look at your own anxieties When you act like your living But every vain in your body Is shivering. Cause you're supressed by capitalism Working day and night And your opinion is not for the giving. Nor are you allowed to be sad Nor are you allowed to be mad This is how life is, they tell you This is how life is, they convience you Don't be a woss They tell you Be strong by following me While I follow what they want me to be And they follow what they were taught to be By people who followed their own misery Thinking this is how life should be You don't wonder anymore When you have tasted it The depression the pain and the downgradment It drives you insane You don't wonder Why the blood was spilt And about the wars that have killed Cause freedom has a high price And it's not given Its demanded by the oppressed So, are you up for the battle Or your ganna shut up, and cry every night? Down your pills ? Roll a blunt ? Down that drink ? Then go numb ? And go with the cattle ?
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Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 4:22 PM UTC
Freedom is not given
fragile violet purple and grey listening aqua fusia and green confused yellow brown and blue music loud charging and sleeping guilty crying supressed and depressed I am not this girl all over again sprawled passed out on her bathroom floor
0
Mar 5, 2011
Mar 5, 2011 at 10:42 AM UTC
magnitude
Got tired of pretending that this worn pillow could ever be the soft hollow of your shoulder Stumbled over to the mirror to see how much life has faded and the face staring back agrees with everything you said A muted tongue drained from every word said to you "I love you, why won't you look at me?" Supressed into silence, and belittled into guilt, "The little gifts in life are not for all to enjoy."
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Jun 18, 2010
Jun 18, 2010 at 8:17 PM UTC
Undeserved Gifts
*Tiptoe.        Very slow.                 Shoulders slumped.                             Head low.                                       An awful resemblance                                                    to the surroundings;                                       Tired, beaten, voiceless walls                            doors slammed shut,                 A forced close         To my emotions -                        Supressed                                 Depressed.                                           I'm stressed.                                                   I'm tired -                                                          I'm a mess.*                                                                                                      Sorry.
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Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 4:38 AM UTC
Raw
My eye lids lift before the sun Enveloped in sheets covering from the cold that leaves a sting on my feet Day breaks like these where my good intensions and supressed memories meet My pillow sinks propping up the weight of my past My bones subside in my skin for as long as it will last I close my eyes again but they roam in black As if ill dream away in an instant but ill consider that pack Smoking one for ease One for release Just two more please The smoking doesnt cease Till im curled back in my sheets Its whatever time am When i cant stop thinking of him
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Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 10:21 AM UTC
Whatever O'clock AM
we were emaciated; ruined   much like the twisted silence at the foot of your bed a hollow battle field where our hearts would lay and in nooks of tangled legs and distraught blankets our secrets would hide then at night fall they would dissapate into the cage we called a home, to poison the atmosphere already swollen with ambigious thoughts and supressed dreams we wait for rain and we wait for the sun but never reach into the atmosphere so like our secrets we lay dormant in our monotonous routines and our open eyed sleep
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Apr 7, 2012
Apr 7, 2012 at 11:40 AM UTC
Untitled