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to kiss you
I want to kiss you in public
for the world to see
who I give my love to
and who I want to go home to
at the end of the day.
I want to show off my love
and the beautiful human
who chose me to love.
Dancing with your face pressed against
mine,
and it feels like nobody else exists but
us and the world we
create for ourselves.
every moment led me to this one
where I could feel at home
walking around in my underwear and a face free from makeup,
knowing I am loved by your side.
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poetry-byyourstruly · 2 years
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prepared
Nothing could have prepared me
for the way I would feel
meeting you
after spending all this time
listening to the sound of my own breathing.
But as I return at night to you in
bed,
I’m coming home I
know in all of the ways
I never imagined I would be.
Creating a home from a person
is a delicate task,
but nothing has ever felt easier than this.
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poetry-byyourstruly · 2 years
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storybook romance
Too much too quickly,
I don’t crave midnight meetups
or boundaries broken before
I even know your favorite color.
But when will I ever ask if
you prefer green or purple
if the chance never presents itself?
Perhaps I’m destined to
remain as I am,
the poster-child for the single life—too
absorbed in the arts to remember
that humans exist outside of the page
she writes on. But some
days I wish I could fall through
my page and into
the arms of someone
waiting for me.
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poetry-byyourstruly · 2 years
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let go
And suddenly nothing in the world mattered.
My soul craved laughter and freedom
in a way that only the Earth
can provide.
I have yet to find a problem
I cannot solve through writing
underneath the moon
and humming a song
for only the two of us to hear.
Sometimes the best things in
life and uncovered
through secrets
kept between me and the moon.
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poetry-byyourstruly · 2 years
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a reason to love
I’ve always been the troubled child,
the one whose anxiety prevented
words from leaving my mouth and
from making connections.
My mouth stayed sealed because
then maybe I could give you a reason to love me.
If I didn’t say anything, there would be no reason to hate me.
Like a pretty person at the airport,
I would stay in your mind,
always wondering what kind of thoughts
passed through my brain like clouds
and which thoughts remained like rain puddles on a cloudy day.
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poetry-byyourstruly · 2 years
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circle of love
what comes around goes around,
but the circle is broken.
I’m still waiting for all of the love that
I’m giving to
come back around to where
I sit so patiently to be wanted.
Even my own mother doesn’t tell me she loves me
after we fight and she goes to bed.
If parental love is conditional,
where does that leave me
when I’m told I’m difficult to love?
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poetry-byyourstruly · 2 years
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teenage depression
I will not cry over a boy
I’ve known for a month and a half.
I will not let myself release all of the
emotions I feel,
but I will cry and sob
wondering if anyone actually means the things that they say.
Did he actually mean to call me pretty?
or was there an error in translation?
I will feel myself fall apart as I wonder
if I’ll ever be strong enough to love
after being left without so much as a goodbye too many times to count.
Or if Ill ever fully trust after my cries of “no” weren’t heard
and the only responses I received were
lies.
I can’t even explain the way I feel because
I shouldn’t have to feel this pain
at such a young age.
I want my teenage romance,
but all I have is teenage depression.
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poetry-byyourstruly · 2 years
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from the pages
childhoods spent reading
about a dystopian world where
all become powerless,
and we said we would save them.
we promised to save the world
if we had the chance,
and now our voices shake and
grow quiet.
The fear fills our bones and cements
our feet into place,
but we will not cease to fight.
It is not our end.
The pages are still turning,
and the pen keeps moving.
We have not reached our final chapter.
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poetry-byyourstruly · 2 years
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unpaid profession
I’m an actor,
a boy in costume
scouting the life I want
before I can reveal myself.
incognito and on the move,
I deliver my lines without question.
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poetry-byyourstruly · 2 years
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make my home
i hate to say it,
but my future looks brighter
on my own.
counting the days until I move out,
and I know I can find a home
outside of your walls.
someone else will use my
name and hold my body
when I can’t stay standing.
someone else will be there with me
as the drains leak the pain
from my body,
and I will find a home.
I will make a home for myself
with my own walls.
cutting my hair isn’t meant to cut you
from my life,
but I might have to disappoint you to
be myself.
Someone else will be on my side,
and someone else will care.
Someone else will help me make a
home.
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poetry-byyourstruly · 2 years
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who am I?
who am I when I’ve been telling myself
lies for all these years?
crafting a story of the person I wish I was,
instead of the person whose body I
stand within,
whose arms I move and lips I touch.
where does my heart belong
when I’ve been misplacing it
all this time?
pink and orange instead
of yellow and blue.
I wish I knew
who I am suppose to be in this little
village where everyone knows my name
besides me.
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poetry-byyourstruly · 2 years
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I Knew a Girl
I knew a girl who
Always seemed to fit in
Better with the boys
Than the girls.
Who felt more content
Sitting beside a fire
Laughing a the crude jokes
Than getting her nails done
I knew a girl who
Played video games
And longed to join teams with her friends,
But found herself limited
By her parents’ own views.
She wrestled her best friends
Like the brothers she never had,
Never one to turn down
A dare
Or back away from
A challenge.
I knew a girl who
Wondered why she felt
More comfortable around
Gys than girls,
Why she felt like one
Of them
Everytime
They laughed and screamed.
She sometimes wondered
If she had been placed
Iside of the wrong body
When words like “she” and “her”
No longer felt like they
Were connected
To her at all.
They grew distant
From the labels,
Unable to reveal
The secret to anyone else
For fear of hate.
They didn’t know
Who they were,
But they knew
Who they were not.
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poetry-byyourstruly · 2 years
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all you can
and sometimes the best things in
life are never
meant to happen.
perhaps the love of your
life lives hours away
or years apart,
but there is nothing to be done.
there is nothing to make it easier
but know that you’ve tried all
you can and you are enough,
even when you’ve given all you can.
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poetry-byyourstruly · 2 years
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impulse
impulse decision to spill
the thoughts that spent so long
hiding in the attic,
tucked behind the spring decorations.
impulse decision that resulted in
acceptance for the first time
in two years.
he said “everyone is unhappy in their body,”
and they uninvited me from
the group chat and the chosen family I had found for myself as I was left
in the driveway a week after spilling
my thoughts to them.
but just this once,
I found the acceptance I craved
within the chaos I live in.
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poetry-byyourstruly · 2 years
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bruises of yellow and purple on my body,
who said that words never hurt?
I hear them say the words that do
not belong to me
as the nail is pounded deeper into
my skull.
my outfit doesn’t match quite
right today, and
my hair pulls to the ground from the roots.
all I can do now is whisper to myself
and hear the quiet echos.
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poetry-byyourstruly · 2 years
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in between
sometimes one and
sometimes the other,
and sometimes I am none of the above.
my lips stay sealed as tightly as
my bedroom door locks,
but they open every now and then
to get a feel of the world once again.
small pieces of cloth remind
me of who I am
and strings of color on my wrist
lead the way.
one day it will be easier to know,
but for now I will count my fingers and
be thankful for my few.
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poetry-byyourstruly · 2 years
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her name
Her name finally squeezes its way
from your lips,
and I wish I could say I didn’t want to hear
it from you
because I want to hear my own.
I tell myself I can get over the feelings
I harbor for you until I hear her name
and the jealous comes in waves.
I sleep in my best friend’s sweatshirt
to get your name off of my mind.
I text some guy from some other school
hoping maybe I would fall for him instead of you,
but I still want to know what goes through your mind
when I walk past your locker every day
after school,
even when I know you will never return these rare feelings that I feel.
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