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"unmissed" poems
A caress, A captivating touch, A smile gone. Unmissed But not resented. What remains? The burden Or the freedom? That I no longer wish For such affection.
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Dec 22, 2012
Dec 22, 2012 at 10:01 AM UTC
Affection
“You have a kind of sick desperation in your laugh.” – Tyler Durden, Fight Club You have a kind of sick                                                                                                     desperation in your laugh. You always think of others. They never do,                           on your behalf. He’s there        you’re him. You’re here      he’s you. He says     he’s     Tyler. And you are?                    Who? Clinging to the manic sense you get when you’re a l o n e . String up the failing,                                      f                                        a                                           l                                             l                                               i                                                 n                                                   g                                                       words,          you feel you must atone. Who are you really? Slipping     f   l   a  i l i n    g unmissed and left to burn. Black and darkened Your heart unharkened The page is left,                             unturned.
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Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 5:27 AM UTC
I Am Jack's Wasted Life
“You have a kind of sick desperation in your laugh.” – Tyler Durden, Fight Club You have a kind of sick                                                                                                     desperation in your laugh. You always think of others. They never do,                           on your behalf. He’s there        you’re him. You’re here      he’s you. He says     he’s     Tyler. And you are?                    Who? Clinging to the manic sense you get when you’re a l o n e . String up the failing,                                      f                                        a                                           l                                             l                                               i                                                 n                                                   g                                                       words,          you feel you must atone. Who are you really? Slipping     f   l   a  i l i n    g unmissed and left to burn. Black and darkened Your heart unharkened The page is left,                             unturned.
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31
My glass is filled, my pipe is lit, My den is all a cosy glow; And snug before the fire I sit, And wait to feel the old year go. I dedicate to solemn thought Amid my too-unthinking days, This sober moment, sadly fraught With much of blame, with little praise. Old Year! upon the Stage of Time You stand to bow your last adieu; A moment, and the prompter's chime Will ring the curtain down on you. Your mien is sad, your step is slow; You falter as a Sage in pain; Yet turn, Old Year, before you go, And face your audience again. That sphinx-like face, remote, austere, Let us all read, whate'er the cost: O Maiden! why that bitter tear? Is it for dear one you have lost? Is it for fond illusion gone? For trusted lover proved untrue? O sweet girl-face, so sad, so wan What hath the Old Year meant to you? And you, O neighbour on my right So sleek, so prosperously clad! What see you in that aged wight That makes your smile so gay and glad? What opportunity unmissed? What golden gain, what pride of place? What splendid hope? O Optimist! What read you in that withered face? And You, deep shrinking in the gloom, What find you in that filmy gaze? What menace of a tragic doom? What dark, condemning yesterdays? What urge to crime, what evil done? What cold, confronting shape of fear? O haggard, haunted, hidden One What see you in the dying year? And so from face to face I flit, The countless eyes that stare and stare; Some are with approbation lit, And some are shadowed with despair. Some show a smile and some a frown; Some joy and hope, some pain and woe: Enough! Oh, ring the curtain down! Old weary year! it's time to go. My pipe is out, my glass is dry; My fire is almost ashes too; But once again, before you go, And I prepare to meet the New: Old Year! a parting word that's true, For we've been comrades, you and I -- I thank God for each day of you; There! bless you now! Old Year, good-bye!
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1.6k
The Passing of the Year
My glass is filled, my pipe is lit, My den is all a cosy glow; And snug before the fire I sit, And wait to feel the old year go. I dedicate to solemn thought Amid my too-unthinking days, This sober moment, sadly fraught With much of blame, with little praise. Old Year! upon the Stage of Time You stand to bow your last adieu; A moment, and the prompter's chime Will ring the curtain down on you. Your mien is sad, your step is slow; You falter as a Sage in pain; Yet turn, Old Year, before you go, And face your audience again. That sphinx-like face, remote, austere, Let us all read, whate'er the cost: O Maiden! why that bitter tear? Is it for dear one you have lost? Is it for fond illusion gone? For trusted lover proved untrue? O sweet girl-face, so sad, so wan What hath the Old Year meant to you? And you, O neighbour on my right So sleek, so prosperously clad! What see you in that aged wight That makes your smile so gay and glad? What opportunity unmissed? What golden gain, what pride of place? What splendid hope? O Optimist! What read you in that withered face? And You, deep shrinking in the gloom, What find you in that filmy gaze? What menace of a tragic doom? What dark, condemning yesterdays? What urge to crime, what evil done? What cold, confronting shape of fear? O haggard, haunted, hidden One What see you in the dying year? And so from face to face I flit, The countless eyes that stare and stare; Some are with approbation lit, And some are shadowed with despair. Some show a smile and some a frown; Some joy and hope, some pain and woe: Enough! Oh, ring the curtain down! Old weary year! it's time to go. My pipe is out, my glass is dry; My fire is almost ashes too; But once again, before you go, And I prepare to meet the New: Old Year! a parting word that's true, For we've been comrades, you and I -- I thank God for each day of you; There! bless you now! Old Year, good-bye!
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56
And for that second when your genes mashed up, that boy was blank A clean canvas, a selfless portrait, a plane with no industry, who he was for eternity. Revolutions from within me burst like a bipolar hormonal abomination Of catastrophic cacophony and discorded anguish, sunlit by the good times And slightly obscured through tired, teary eyes... All to be swallowed back into the abysmal sinful cesspool of simple Cyclical cynical shriveled up and seemingly plentiful EMPTINESS, where I'm inevitably spit. Dreaming? Floating in sarcasm, feigning a figure Shivering with the bonechill that is the outside world Can't quite remember the last time I woke up or why Everything is a bit too bright for me to focus correctly... A bit jittery, a bit sluggish, all suspicious, subtly vicious Listless and without bliss and sunkissed and unmissed ****** off and ****** no goals, don't even have an interest These troubling times are demonized, where's the exorcist? Soft ripples in the air bless my ears with wet lips The pulse setting hammers me into the ground in steaming silence Some people go their whole lives without ever hearing the call Hedonism and nihilism are more attractive to us all. Dust devils spinning in an empty chest cavity Throwing themselves over mountains in shame Whisper in harmony to me to be nobody Go through my life without playing the game... Pick through these bones, you'll find grey hair and utility bills Whether you live in South Central or Beverly Hills You're beginning to see that we're all alone and desperate Searching for that person we can stare in the eyes and say, "I'm just like you. You are a part of me. I want to **** you. I want you to be me. I love you, I need you, and if you dare go, I will bleed myself blue." I want to shed every wall, I want to quit hiding behind words Let the arrows rain and shadows lift to confine me in this verse.
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Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 12:10 AM UTC
Anxiety, Depression, and Obsessive Compulsion
And for that second when your genes mashed up, that boy was blank A clean canvas, a selfless portrait, a plane with no industry, who he was for eternity. Revolutions from within me burst like a bipolar hormonal abomination Of catastrophic cacophony and discorded anguish, sunlit by the good times And slightly obscured through tired, teary eyes... All to be swallowed back into the abysmal sinful cesspool of simple Cyclical cynical shriveled up and seemingly plentiful EMPTINESS, where I'm inevitably spit. Dreaming? Floating in sarcasm, feigning a figure Shivering with the bonechill that is the outside world Can't quite remember the last time I woke up or why Everything is a bit too bright for me to focus correctly... A bit jittery, a bit sluggish, all suspicious, subtly vicious Listless and without bliss and sunkissed and unmissed ****** off and ****** no goals, don't even have an interest These troubling times are demonized, where's the exorcist? Soft ripples in the air bless my ears with wet lips The pulse setting hammers me into the ground in steaming silence Some people go their whole lives without ever hearing the call Hedonism and nihilism are more attractive to us all. Dust devils spinning in an empty chest cavity Throwing themselves over mountains in shame Whisper in harmony to me to be nobody Go through my life without playing the game... Pick through these bones, you'll find grey hair and utility bills Whether you live in South Central or Beverly Hills You're beginning to see that we're all alone and desperate Searching for that person we can stare in the eyes and say, "I'm just like you. You are a part of me. I want to **** you. I want you to be me. I love you, I need you, and if you dare go, I will bleed myself blue." I want to shed every wall, I want to quit hiding behind words Let the arrows rain and shadows lift to confine me in this verse.
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32
I will accept this loss As I know it will bring Prosperity in the future. For I am a queen in training, And I know what is best for My kingdom. If that means losing you, And hurting for a little while, I'll take that on a silver platter. I've gone through worse things, And I've learned how to Pick myself up out of the Rubble of these castle walls. I've rebuilt every part of It with my own two hands. So when you try to break me down, Remember that I am a future queen. I can't be torn down anymore. Nothing you can do Can hurt me. I am untouchable.
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Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 9:25 AM UTC
Unmissed
We write the most beautiful things and then, so abrupt is time, we end; pass on after our deaths, we're dead and forgotten unacknowledged, unmissed; just simply gone every one of us lives this life with the need to be loved each of us goes through life craving to feel as though we're needed so we can write our lovely sentences but it's worthless, for we can't escape our fate, and in the end we'll still die the beings we were to become, no more than mere ashes in the wind not worth even whispers to carry on our memories so hurt thus fell these, our flowing words our hearts consumed with bitterness; grey years will continue to pass, none will visit our graves our pages, our legacies shall sink; take solace with us in the ground so we mourn now, thou still alive; oh how we sit, sit and cry we don't really make sense for why wouldn't we be loved by another when we for another can ourselves love? perhaps unconscious self-contempt leaves us craving to feel neglect for our return or perhaps we're just so terrified of being broken we use our fears, rejections, anger and abandonments to write our most magnificent verses why punish ourselves so, when time will still in the end overbear, and we'll all eventually perish? oh, the merest of acknowledgments to such notions may as well rip our hearts from our chests we may have fled truth, begging, pleading as we birth rivers of our blood, sweat and miserable tears all alone then, without another soul in sight to wander with us while we roam deaths rocky beaches So it's all of us who are broken, after all...
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Feb 28, 2013
Feb 28, 2013 at 2:24 AM UTC
Simply Words
We write the most beautiful things and then, so abrupt is time, we end; pass on after our deaths, we're dead and forgotten unacknowledged, unmissed; just simply gone every one of us lives this life with the need to be loved each of us goes through life craving to feel as though we're needed so we can write our lovely sentences but it's worthless, for we can't escape our fate, and in the end we'll still die the beings we were to become, no more than mere ashes in the wind not worth even whispers to carry on our memories so hurt thus fell these, our flowing words our hearts consumed with bitterness; grey years will continue to pass, none will visit our graves our pages, our legacies shall sink; take solace with us in the ground so we mourn now, thou still alive; oh how we sit, sit and cry we don't really make sense for why wouldn't we be loved by another when we for another can ourselves love? perhaps unconscious self-contempt leaves us craving to feel neglect for our return or perhaps we're just so terrified of being broken we use our fears, rejections, anger and abandonments to write our most magnificent verses why punish ourselves so, when time will still in the end overbear, and we'll all eventually perish? oh, the merest of acknowledgments to such notions may as well rip our hearts from our chests we may have fled truth, begging, pleading as we birth rivers of our blood, sweat and miserable tears all alone then, without another soul in sight to wander with us while we roam deaths rocky beaches So it's all of us who are broken, after all...
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25
This pen feels like a cut a sore, a bleeding pendant On my finger Scraping, pulling Threads of cells microscopic bubbling in small drops surface-tension holds it close Gauze and mesh it becomes a unified burn A new home, a new **** Your an absence is unmissed by the healing wound.
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Jan 24, 2012
Jan 24, 2012 at 9:52 PM UTC
Pendant
Ghost drifting Unseen unheard and unnoticed Skipped over Missed and unmissed Like a gust of wind Passed on Out of mind and quickly forgotten
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Aug 11, 2010
Aug 11, 2010 at 8:31 PM UTC
Missed and Unmissed
Dates keep changing Rearranging priorities For some reason everyone of them's above me! I'm below them The worthless me Unimportant, oh! Why still can they not see? Their own actions, priorities Didn't make the list Unmissed, amiss, unnecessary Time comes, time goes Everyone knows this All within their minds Things to do I still go unnoticed A year a time My needs are a mistake I make them into happy It's not appreciated I am in their way, very much
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May 2, 2020
May 2, 2020 at 4:34 PM UTC
Unnecessary
You left me with the a bid a bigger slice of my best a wish me well that lingers even longer without your love Your unformed abrubt reasons of tainted unsainted failed logic a wish you well, no hesitations on the table of untouched melodies My walls are a brighter emerlard with stripes of the unmissed kisses matted with peace and liberation of torn risks and control measures My sad blues were washed by the rains above the moon and over skies above scouring, soaring, scrapping, summing in another forever of amaizing lines
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Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 6:10 PM UTC
Unmissed kisses
By Arcassin Burnham Black tar in my heart but you came and took it out Of my consciousness letting the love that I have for You go unmissed in this life, In this world I transitioned to a boy that has no Original value to a man that has a heart and knows Where to start if we ever talked, You think - I'm not - aware,...... ...you don't have to say a thing, your beauty say a lot with the features in my mind, don't you give me that frown and those eyes Not surprised to be broken down, Down, I know that you've been searching since he left, so you saw my soul,..... But you don't have to say a thing...... I love holding hands with you, a wealth-*that I *- can share with you, You don't have to say a thing , your beauty says a lot With the features, I know- that you've - been waiting, for love to come sweep you off your feet pretty baby, the cold- will se-parate us, in a state of loss of the love that we had for each other,.... But you don't have to say a thing,... I love holding hands with you.
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Aug 17, 2016
Aug 17, 2016 at 12:37 PM UTC
Holding Hands Riddim
My inspiration: My inspiration was the man on the moon, Who defied gravity like some kids cartoon. A man who refused to fold to the norm, Made his own story despite the storm. My inspiration was the lonely planet, Who stood as small as a pomegranate. A girl who’s fought injury and sprain, Yet still can stand up for her next big gain. My inspiration was my best friend, Who’s mould doesn’t quite fit the “trend”. She seems content within her skin, At least that’s what I read from her grin. My inspiration was my mum and my dad, They’d supported each other all through the bad. Served our country throughout the years, Now it was time to forget those fears. My inspiration lies only next door, A girl who battles a personal war. Through day and night she slays her demons, Piquing all of her worst ever feelings. My inspiration is you who told me I can’t, I’ll prove you wrong and then you’ll recant. For what kills me only makes me stronger, And your opinions I’ll think of no longer. My inspiration is the man I pass on the street, That sits happy in a doorway with a dog at his feet. The animal who seems to keep his spirits alive, I suppose helps give him a little drive. I don’t have one inspiration in this life, Nor should you for it would cause strife But towards the top of that growing list, Should you yourself stand entirely unmissed.
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Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 1:40 PM UTC
My Inspiration
clearly there is damage in the mechanics of our interlaced hearts. savor me roll my words around in your mouth like marbles and dream of the taste of my skin and the bite of winter on the tip of my nose and lips. do not break apart my words like ice still, staring, fragmented in anger; do not tear me from afar, with your words assumed unheard, but screamed to the ends of the earth. do not assume i am unfrozen fluid and unattached to the sound of your voice. remember me in lace and wonder and December in beauty and imperfection; or forget that i am far, far away in pain, from missing and being unmissed. or that i exist, altogether. clearly there is damage in the mechanics of our infinity wrinkled and unraveled before us.
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Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 1:09 PM UTC
missing
By Arcassin Burnham Do you get nervous everywhere you walk? Do you get nervous when the light comes down? Do you have problems in your hometown that your family couldn't fathom , But would love to keep you around? Are there troubles that would make you or break you? You don't know the conditions of my past , so don't have any right to doubt too. I say the reasons why my heart stays frozen cause emotions won't be triggered by my body heat to create a thing called love. You could make your own purpose , I'm not trying to get in the way. But If I leave and never come back just know that I'm not here to stay, I don't wanna be your friend, I don't wanna teach ya, just to get a piece of knowledge and flee. I had to end the charade because it was you or me. Now this day in age friends are pretty overrated ,don't you agree? I really hoped you saw it clear in my eyes if I give you tools to see, I don't wanna be your mentor , I wanna be happy, Ended it so sadly, i don't wanna, I don't wanna be your friend, I'm just trying, I'm just tying to be with the one above all up in heaven, One above all up in heaven. Your dismissed , very unmissed, Got no time to comprehend this diss, still you miss, all the things I've told you, I can't deal with this, I don't miss, anything about you, all I care is about the one above all. All I care about is the one above all, All I care about is the one above all, All I care about is the one above all, All I care about is the one above all, All I care about is the one above all, The one above all. Your dismissed , very unmissed, Got no time to comprehend this diss, still you miss, all the things I've told you, I can't deal with this, I don't miss, anything about you, all I care is about the one above all. All I care about is the one above all, All I care about is the one above all, All I care about is the one above all, The one above all.
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May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 12:45 AM UTC
The One Above All (No Guns In The Valley LP)
By Arcassin Burnham Do you get nervous everywhere you walk? Do you get nervous when the light comes down? Do you have problems in your hometown that your family couldn't fathom , But would love to keep you around? Are there troubles that would make you or break you? You don't know the conditions of my past , so don't have any right to doubt too. I say the reasons why my heart stays frozen cause emotions won't be triggered by my body heat to create a thing called love. You could make your own purpose , I'm not trying to get in the way. But If I leave and never come back just know that I'm not here to stay, I don't wanna be your friend, I don't wanna teach ya, just to get a piece of knowledge and flee. I had to end the charade because it was you or me. Now this day in age friends are pretty overrated ,don't you agree? I really hoped you saw it clear in my eyes if I give you tools to see, I don't wanna be your mentor , I wanna be happy, Ended it so sadly, i don't wanna, I don't wanna be your friend, I'm just trying, I'm just tying to be with the one above all up in heaven, One above all up in heaven. Your dismissed , very unmissed, Got no time to comprehend this diss, still you miss, all the things I've told you, I can't deal with this, I don't miss, anything about you, all I care is about the one above all. All I care about is the one above all, All I care about is the one above all, All I care about is the one above all, All I care about is the one above all, All I care about is the one above all, The one above all. Your dismissed , very unmissed, Got no time to comprehend this diss, still you miss, all the things I've told you, I can't deal with this, I don't miss, anything about you, all I care is about the one above all. All I care about is the one above all, All I care about is the one above all, All I care about is the one above all, The one above all.
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46
I turned my back and felt the stare, Of someone close but wasn't there, No shadow to cast Or a body to hold, Not a drop of warmth To ease the cold, No hands to clasp Or lips to kiss, Not an ounce of insecurity Gone unmissed, No burdens to carry, Or weight to share, Of the glare of the person Who was never there
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Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 4:02 PM UTC
The Person Who Was Never There
By Arcassin Burnham Don't let your sunshine go away. I got a remedy for better days in store for us to deal. Don't let your sunshine go away. Got some things to tell you even if their wrong to say out loud. Don't let your sunshine go away. I had a darker part of me that I got rid of for you in this life. Don't let your sunshine go away. Put insecurities aside for me to prosper as a human being. Bringing out the best in me when nobody succeeded, Covering my every flaw just so you could love it, Brushing my face with your hand is lovely In its own prime, The beauty of you will never go unmissed in this life.
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Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 12:30 AM UTC
Sunshine Goes Away For A Bit
What would happen if I was gone What would people think Sure they might imagine that they were upset for a couple of days But life would still go on They would forget and they would move on They would no longer care that I wasn’t part of everyday life Would there be any regrets that I left behind I doubt it because no one really cares
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Jun 18, 2012
Jun 18, 2012 at 3:34 PM UTC
Unmissed
I've always wondered what everyone's reactions would be if/when I die. I'd want them to be sad, even if that's not what most people would say after the fact. I wouldn't want to go unmissed. I wouldn't want people to shrug it off like they do most things now. I want them to dwell on it and wonder about the truth and write until their wrists break. I hope you, specifically, wouldn't be mad at me. I'd hope you'd understand that I did want this. I've always seen you as the most understanding when it comes to these things. You could tell them I'm in a better place because that is what they'd want to hear. And maybe I will be. Or maybe I'll burn eternally in hell. Or maybe I'll just cease to exist entirely. Will I even be aware of anything after? Point being, no one knows what happens to me but this is what I wanted and stands as the most courage I've ever built up at once. I don't think it will be scary. I really don't want my death to be the cause of someone else's (I'm crying while writing this as it is so amazingly confident and vain it's almost funny, really). Maybe suicide is a bit selfish, as an old teacher once said. At this point I don't care about my reputation, especially after I'm gone. It is a little worrisome that everything I write ends up sounding like a suicide note. I don't know if I would have the guts to go through with it when the moment came. And I know that if that happened I would hate myself more than ever. I'm sorry for the awful handwriting and scattered thoughts. I'm trying to write whatever comes to mind. A glimpse into my life, as you might say.
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Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 2:11 AM UTC
rambling while panicking
I've always wondered what everyone's reactions would be if/when I die. I'd want them to be sad, even if that's not what most people would say after the fact. I wouldn't want to go unmissed. I wouldn't want people to shrug it off like they do most things now. I want them to dwell on it and wonder about the truth and write until their wrists break. I hope you, specifically, wouldn't be mad at me. I'd hope you'd understand that I did want this. I've always seen you as the most understanding when it comes to these things. You could tell them I'm in a better place because that is what they'd want to hear. And maybe I will be. Or maybe I'll burn eternally in hell. Or maybe I'll just cease to exist entirely. Will I even be aware of anything after? Point being, no one knows what happens to me but this is what I wanted and stands as the most courage I've ever built up at once. I don't think it will be scary. I really don't want my death to be the cause of someone else's (I'm crying while writing this as it is so amazingly confident and vain it's almost funny, really). Maybe suicide is a bit selfish, as an old teacher once said. At this point I don't care about my reputation, especially after I'm gone. It is a little worrisome that everything I write ends up sounding like a suicide note. I don't know if I would have the guts to go through with it when the moment came. And I know that if that happened I would hate myself more than ever. I'm sorry for the awful handwriting and scattered thoughts. I'm trying to write whatever comes to mind. A glimpse into my life, as you might say.
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1
For a girl to be sensitive, is a girl to be noticed To be held back out of class to not disturb the others A girl to be sensitive, under the tables in early grades Crying and screaming for a sister who raised her To be avoided from the teachers, to be avoided like the plague To be avoided by the people, and friends that left when it took so long to make A girl to be sensitive is one who is made to cry To not know what it's like to be free, what it's like to fly A girl to be sensitive has the fate of being broken for she doesn't understand boundaries and times right to be spoken A girl who was locked out of her mother's room Face pressed to the crack only to ask for permission and for food To see her mother's face only in the morning before dusk when the babysitter came to take her place And to see her mother's face in the drive to the gym the place to be set again behind a wall, dividing them again A girl who is sensitive, learns through many mistakes but not known for learning, her stuff taken away She'll never learn, it's not in her nature but it's her social life that was shaped by crying and hurting and for her to be called dramatic and immature A girl to be sensitive is one of trial and error To not tell a teacher when one is trying to be fairer To not tell somebody when one is afraid of the big wide world and to not tell somebody when her smile begins to fail And when she awakens and realizes that what she does is a mistake She wonders what it'll take to fly, fly far away A girl to be sensitive is for her tears to be silenced and told to stop being a baby, and to just be quiet A girl who learns to forget because it hurts more to remember and a girl to be known for someone who is never not lying, not trying, and not being enough always smiling not knowing that it was just strong to get through the tough times that she believes isn't She learns that a chance she doesn't take is to miss it A girl to be sensitive is a girl to be unheard because it becomes unimportant when it's her words her tears slur To be noticed by only by her work, her assignments always trying to be better, always trying not to not fail it But even then this path is a blind one, and told that she needs to work on it, she needs to get it done A girl to be sensitive is one who is burned one left behind in bathrooms until one's cries are quiet or worse in a closet without light and a blanket by the wall to shut up, to go to sleep to pass the time without a clock A girl to be sensitive is one to be unwanted And everyone wants to be wanted and desired to be missed and to be held but she learns that that's too desperate and she can't risk the love so push them away, and lock those feelings in her own closet in her own mind, herself shunned just like in real life A girl to be sensitive is one doomed to be alone to be in a grave in a forest, one marked by a stone One dug by her fingers until her fingers become ****** and stiff And for her to lie exhausted, to lie there unmissed.
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Sep 10, 2025
Sep 10, 2025 at 11:12 AM UTC
Sensitive
For a girl to be sensitive, is a girl to be noticed To be held back out of class to not disturb the others A girl to be sensitive, under the tables in early grades Crying and screaming for a sister who raised her To be avoided from the teachers, to be avoided like the plague To be avoided by the people, and friends that left when it took so long to make A girl to be sensitive is one who is made to cry To not know what it's like to be free, what it's like to fly A girl to be sensitive has the fate of being broken for she doesn't understand boundaries and times right to be spoken A girl who was locked out of her mother's room Face pressed to the crack only to ask for permission and for food To see her mother's face only in the morning before dusk when the babysitter came to take her place And to see her mother's face in the drive to the gym the place to be set again behind a wall, dividing them again A girl who is sensitive, learns through many mistakes but not known for learning, her stuff taken away She'll never learn, it's not in her nature but it's her social life that was shaped by crying and hurting and for her to be called dramatic and immature A girl to be sensitive is one of trial and error To not tell a teacher when one is trying to be fairer To not tell somebody when one is afraid of the big wide world and to not tell somebody when her smile begins to fail And when she awakens and realizes that what she does is a mistake She wonders what it'll take to fly, fly far away A girl to be sensitive is for her tears to be silenced and told to stop being a baby, and to just be quiet A girl who learns to forget because it hurts more to remember and a girl to be known for someone who is never not lying, not trying, and not being enough always smiling not knowing that it was just strong to get through the tough times that she believes isn't She learns that a chance she doesn't take is to miss it A girl to be sensitive is a girl to be unheard because it becomes unimportant when it's her words her tears slur To be noticed by only by her work, her assignments always trying to be better, always trying not to not fail it But even then this path is a blind one, and told that she needs to work on it, she needs to get it done A girl to be sensitive is one who is burned one left behind in bathrooms until one's cries are quiet or worse in a closet without light and a blanket by the wall to shut up, to go to sleep to pass the time without a clock A girl to be sensitive is one to be unwanted And everyone wants to be wanted and desired to be missed and to be held but she learns that that's too desperate and she can't risk the love so push them away, and lock those feelings in her own closet in her own mind, herself shunned just like in real life A girl to be sensitive is one doomed to be alone to be in a grave in a forest, one marked by a stone One dug by her fingers until her fingers become ****** and stiff And for her to lie exhausted, to lie there unmissed.
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There is a world all of my own I make the rules It is my home There is a world Where nothing has changed Only myself There is no cage I am never alone Or feel that I have no one There is comfort that remains constant I am sure and true Just and swift This is the world where I am a gift But here in this world I feel like a burden Nobody to go to They always draw the curtain I am a child without a mother In this world I am always unfurled Undone Unmissed Out there where the other world is It misses my name That's where life is So I stare in the distance Of this windowless room Nothing to distract me From this world of gloom How can one live? Must I seek escape? Negativity kills me Hope is a little candle That I must use Pray that I arrive Safe and whole As I journey on Toward that place I am alone now But not very long There is a way To belong Sometimes I think I can live on my own I'll surely miss your presence Even though I journey home
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Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 10:03 AM UTC
Home
Sean Hannity American insanity American Catholic hater Like an ignorant Darth Vader Trumpfuck found on Fox Bootlicker of Trump's socks Send him to the Abyss Unmourned and unmissed Adios Thanos!
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Feb 11, 2020
Feb 11, 2020 at 9:22 AM UTC
Adios Thanos!
Gloria Vanderbilt died today princess Diana, was on the news beautifully dead, walking the dusty trails of Angolan land mine fields, without protection of any shields. "I cried the day that Bowie died" (and the world cried with you) we shed our tears our sighs & why's, when a famous one dies, but what of the good human who slips away without any voices, without any words, to say? The one who gave much more than they could spare passes away, shown no care the loved yet forgotten, once fine the downtrodden. The mother who sang lullabies dried millions of tears, hushed thousands of sighs with warm embraces, with loving care, slips into the nothing, exits an unaffected world. The lover once lovely dead in an alley a ditch, too many hits, too many scars, unseen unfelt unmissed(sic) by hundreds of passing cars Beauty rotting cold blood clotting, passersby passing by unaware, would they even care that she was broken long before dead, by a world callous and cruel undid her lovely head? I understand fame, I understand célèbre, I understand shame, I hang my head. J.C. honey-baby 18/06/2019
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Jun 18, 2019
Jun 18, 2019 at 3:42 AM UTC
cause célèbre