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 Jan 9 yv
Alex Smith
 Jan 9 yv
Alex Smith
My mistake
Was loving you too hard.
My regret
Was never telling you
That I needed love back.
 Jan 9 yv
A Room
 Jan 9 yv
If you look through my eyes,
I lie curled in the corner.
 Jan 9 yv
science claims
that your pupils dilate
when you look at someone
you love.
you told me
that you loved
how mine grew
when i looked at you.
but when i would look back
into your eyes,
i could only see
 Jan 9 yv
 Jan 9 yv
A gas giant
nine times the size
of the planet we call home.
175,000 miles of ice rings,
spanning almost the same distance
between our world and the moon.
With the ability to contain
764 Earths,
Saturn makes our planet seem
Our world
is so large to us,
yet so small
to other planets.
And even smaller
to the universe.
Seemingly endless solar systems,
and light years
composed of dark energy
and matter
make you look
this is another poem i wrote last semester and it's about saturn, my favorite planet.
 Jan 9 yv
 Jan 9 yv
You are a drug
handcrafted by the Devil.
Addiction came after
a single touch,
always craving “just one more.”
Everything used to feel like a dream,
but I don’t think
I’m dreaming anymore.
Traces of you still flow
through my veins.
I don’t want to be addicted anymore.
i wrote the original version of this poem two years ago (and published it on here lol) and rewrote it last semester, so it's better now. this is about a boy i no longer love and it shows in this piece.
 Jan 9 yv
 Jan 9 yv
you knew i hated cigarettes,
so you started smoking a pack a day.
eleven minutes of life
being stolen with each stick.
you were always afraid of commitment,
but don't you know?
death prefers long-term relationships.
this is a poem i initially wrote two years ago and rewrote last semester about a boy i am no longer in love with. the irony of this poem is that my current boyfriend smokes cigarettes.
 Jan 9 yv
the salty smell of summer beaches,
and crashing ocean waves.
a clear autumn sky,
and september’s birthstone sapphire.
crisp winter air,
and cold stinging against your skin.
vibrant hydrangeas in spring bloom,
your eyes that last time in may,
and the salty taste of tears.
i wrote this last semester about a boy that i am no longer in love with
 Jan 9 yv
 Jan 9 yv
you are like ******,
the devils drug.
one hit and i crave you.
i crave that feeling of euphoria.
you make me feel happy, good, mellow.
but i grow accustomed to you,
and i crave more.
more interaction, more contact.
i need more of you to give me that high.
but my body aches, i cant sleep,
and i get waves of nausea
when i cannot have you.
i go insane for another hit.
“just one more.”
but one turns into two,
which becomes three,
and they keep adding up.
i cant stop wanting you.
i am addicted to you.
you are ******.
this isnt my best at all and i just wrote down what i could think of so its just a string of thoughts separated into lines. i couldnt really find the right words but this gets the main points of my thoughts.
 Jan 9 yv
 Jan 9 yv
your words,
they have the power
to rattle around in my head.
but your silence,
that has far more power.
the power to rip apart my ribcage.
extract energy from my body.
force waterfalls from my eyes.
and spill worries from my mind.
i'd prefer your harsh words
over your unspoken words.
totally lame late night ((11pm)) thoughts
 Jan 9 yv
The most fragile thing is not
Your mother’s favorite china
Or your family's crystal glasses
Or a teenage girl’s heart
Or even your most prized possession.
But what the most fragile thing is,
Is your own life.
In loving memory of Mandi, Paige, John, Garrett, and Mrs Mallory.
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