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lrsamantha · 13 days
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It's my 10 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳
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lrsamantha · 16 days
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Unsure of much else,
I wanted to tell you that I was in love with you.
If for no other reason,
because I knew it was true.
It was a truth I’ve held on to,
unable to let it go despite the circumstances.
Truth is a hard thing to find,
and maybe I’ll share it with you
one day.
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lrsamantha · 1 month
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We shower praise on shrinking frames,
applauding as bodies wither away,
oblivious to silent screams
as long as they fit into size 2 jeans.
We fail to see what lies beneath
the facade of success,
the relentless pursuit of an unattainable ideal
driving us to the brink of death.
We search for validation through numbers,
and forget the human beings behind them,
their worth reduced to nothing more
than a measurement.
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lrsamantha · 9 months
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I ache with exhaustion,
my limbs weighted with consequential fatigue
that seeps from my memories.
With ragged breaths
I try in vain to steady up the walls
that strain against this hollowness,
eaten away bit by bit.
One angry exhale, then another-
a futile attempt to rid the stress,
of the futility of it all.
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lrsamantha · 9 months
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Your memory etches its familiarity in my mind,
like my initials carved in your bed frame.
I clasp hands with lonesomeness,
and my stomach coils with realization,
tugging me in dismal directions.
I loathe this unwelcome understanding;
the ease at which loneliness finds me
while I find nothing else.
And I think it makes me hate you,
more than just a little.
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lrsamantha · 9 months
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The ache in my chest is unwavering,  
oppressing me with its weight. 
My heart is worn and weary, 
yet, 
it frantically thumps on, 
trying to search for stillness.
I pray for relief to surface, 
or for fatigue to overcome my conscious, 
but respite never comes. 
This monstrous pain of emptiness won't wither, 
leaving my frantic breaths to lead me
through the night.
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lrsamantha · 10 months
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What was once in vivid color is now muted gray My "hellos" linger unacknowledged in the stillness No longer expecting niceties in return, I acknowledge the burden of their weight It could just be that you know me too well, and you've learned the empty places my "hellos" tend to lead us, backseat rendezvous in vacant parking lots… and maybe you're a better person than I give you credit for, perhaps you're a better person than I ever was
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lrsamantha · 10 months
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The past that was ours was all lost in the midnight clouds And here I am, searching for something that can't be found
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lrsamantha · 11 months
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I’d like to say I thought I’d be over you by now,
But I didn’t.
I knew when you left,
It would be the last time
And I knew getting over you
Would take a lifetime
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lrsamantha · 11 months
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I am, as poets say, a forlorn
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lrsamantha · 11 months
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lrsamantha · 11 months
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My initials remain etched on your bed frame,
and it's strange to think that a part of me still exists in a place I'll never see again.
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lrsamantha · 11 months
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imagine being the subject of someone's poetry .
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lrsamantha · 11 months
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A recurring thought occupies my mind- the hypothetical person I could have been. 
Would my life have been different if the memories of his screams didn't haunt me? Could I have been someone else if my blackened tears never stained the white shag carpet? What if I never had to live with the constant fear that seemed to cling to me like a second skin? Or the anxiety that made every breath a struggle? 
Such ponderings are pointless, mere distractions from the reality of my existence. A distaction from the fact that I am who I am because of what he did to me.
Perhaps there was never a hypothetical person I could have been. Maybe this is all there is to me- a cynical and world-weary spirit, forever bound to the trauma that defines my being.
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lrsamantha · 1 year
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The bitterness of heartbreak has been an ever-present force in my journey toward creating art.
Despite the ache and pain it inflicts, I have come to realize that it is through those shattered pieces that my creativity has been born.
For every heartbreak I endure, a piece of art is waiting to be brought to life, a story yearning to be told.
So, while heartbreak may be brutal and all-encompassing, it is also the catalyst for the most creative moments.
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lrsamantha · 1 year
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Your hands were bigger than mine,
and when our fingers intertwined,
something flowed from you to me.
You leaned back, sinking into silk sheets,
my eyes fixated on your hands tangled in mine.
I raised my gaze to your face, and you met my eyes
I want to let you in, but I'm so afraid you'll leave
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lrsamantha · 1 year
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Sundresses and grapevine-draped patios set the scene for Sunday brunch, where wealthy women gather.
I stand there watching them laugh and chat, but I can't help but notice the thick, gray clouds looming on the horizon.
While they sip on their tea and nibble on croissants with sweet cream cheese, I wait for the sky to crack open and pour down on them in sheets of gut-wrenching, sobering rain.
With my eyes fixed on the distant skyline, I am the solitary figure standing still, waiting for the deluge that will bring the truth crashing down upon them.
But for now, they smile and laugh, unaware of the tempest that brews just beyond their sight.
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