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#original poem
livrnll · 5 minutes ago
How to put all of these feelings together.
Feelings that, for days, go away with the wind,
leaving me alone in this so intense world
while what I can think of
is life in its purest existence.
Your company can heal
even me in my worst moments.
0 notes
porkiboidoesthings · 13 minutes ago
I always do.
And when she looks at me,
I can't help but wonder if she too has pictured us slow dancing under the stars,
smiling against a kiss and knowing we'd never let go of each other...
Because if I am to be honest, I always do.
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stardustthroughthecracks · 14 minutes ago
Though I don’t think you ever truly saw me,
I still dreamt that you were my fate.
All of those year you stayed in my heart,
The only place of me I never learned to hate.
- Ama.
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rosliwtor · 26 minutes ago
slow burn
in the news, innocent black people getting killed by racists every day, the tension is building toward something important, but i can’t pretend that i know what—however, i would like to see justice for the murders, and we need cultural reformsat every level of our society. – Rosliw Tor Raekül, 202104142017 C.S.T.
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writing-is-a-martial-art · 44 minutes ago
2 am poetry
As the title states, I wrote this at 2 am - expect poor quality. This started as a sort of introduction/mood poem for Ena, a disillusioned goddess character from JYTFS, and quickly escalated into My Complicated Relationship With Religion, the Essay. If you're not comfortable with such topics, you have been warned.
Pray to me, let me help you.
Come with me, I’ll protect you.
I’ll always be there when you call my name.
I don’t mind
Getting my feet muddy.
I don’t mind
Getting my hands bloody.
If that means that you'll be happy
It’s worth all the world.
Pray to me, let me help you.
Come with me, I’ll protect you.
I’ll always be there when you call my name.
Always, times and times again, forever.
That’s how it used to be.
Now, I’m torn
Between a million places.
I see
A million faces.
I hear
A million voices.
Crying for my help.
People turn to me for explanations.
Bloody spots across entire nations
Spelling out my name.
I wish you’d have
Someone to pray to,
I wish I’d have
Someone to pray to,
But that someone isn’t me.
I am lost
Among a million questions.
I am trapped
In quotes and corrections.
I am weak
Because of the people
Who keep speaking of my might.
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heavenlyvessel · an hour ago
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trying to touch someone on their own terms, comforting from a distance is an oxymoron.
Comfort is found in the familiar, I’ve never known someone to be touched by a stranger except myself.
You can only leave behind something you’ve held on to.
Attachment is an enigma
Art: Dr.Seuss
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jojadhavpoetry · an hour ago
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“if you weren’t a girl,
i would hit you.”
“i would hit you,
but you’re a girl
so i won’t.”
i’m sorry i was born
with identical chromosomes,
two ovaries,
and a uterus;
that you weren’t able to use your beloved, “male”, instinctive weapon:
your fist.
// follow me @jojadhav.poetry on instagram for much more! ✨
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xxmeizzxx · an hour ago
I was once a six-years-old boy. . .
that have no care about anything.
I just wanna play toys,
and funny prank games were my thing.
They say I'm annoying,
they say I'm too noisy.
They say I should be changing,
they say I should stop being naughty.
I say I don't want to,
I say I don't care.
I say I'll be like this forever to you,
I say stopping will be rare.
Or more likes impossible?
Well, I want my self.
Staying like this will be the only one possible.
I like my self.
I will be mess,
I will be fun.
I will not rest,
my creativity will not be gone.
But destiny..
plays too effitable.
My impossible thingies. . .
become now possible.
I was sixteen-years-old. . .
when an unforgettable incident happened.
It was really odd. . .
and it cause a dead end.
It was the start of being gone
of the naughty me.
I say I'm done. . .
of being noisy.
I become quiet,
I become cold.
In noise, I'm irritated.
And the untouchable me was mold.
They say I'm annoying.
They say I'm too boring.
They say I should be changing.
They say I should be more exciting.
But now I don't want mess.
I am no fun.
I always want to rest.
If it comes about creavity, I have none.
This is the new me.
I hate my self.
I don't want anything as you can see. . .
but to kill my own self.
I was six-years-old. . .
when I always want fun.
Then I become sixteen-years-old. . .
and since then, I always like none.
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assril · 2 hours ago
10 days left
Do I think that she'll come back?
Not really
Do I feel so?
Hope is always with me
Despite anything
It's hard to find someone so close to your Anima
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rospoetrycorner · 2 hours ago
You’re Gold
Caught somewhere in between She didn't want to make a scene Family was at the top of her list She was always there to assist Still doesn't change the game Family or lover, the pain is always the same Can't make peace A house full of sheep Pull down the blindfold Unmask the lies they told Some of them are made of gold But they lie beneath the mold
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aryas0moon · 2 hours ago
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On being a horny (hungry) bitch help pls i want to binge and it’s so hard not to
I need you to fill me up
From the inside out.
I need you to feed my hunger —
My unending, my all-consuming hunger.
Feed me with your fingers
Feed me with your tongue
Feed me with all of you.
I cannot feed myself.
I will not feed myself.
Let me taste you
Let me lick you
Let me love you.
Let. Me. Consume. You.
Love me loving you
Because you are the only thing
I will allow
To touch my tongue.
And without your flesh
I will starve to death.
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jenkins-poetry · 4 hours ago
I am the incurable romantic.
I am the incurable romantic
Ha how sweet!
I suppose you expect us to dance singing of roses and the beauty that seeps its way into everyday life. You want us to be fuelled by a love for the mundane, flirtations of nature with a butterfly tickelish fever that consumes our every being.
Well little do, you know that we lovers and admirers of the romance of society are some of the loneliest and most hypocritical people you will ever meet.
I can speak for myself in this regard at the very least.
For I adore the concept of the intertwined soul. The adolescent glances and slowly reaching hands that melts into interlocking fingers. This that transcends time it's self.
But unfortunately I have observed that most often in this life the things that we yearn for the most we will most indefinitely never receive.
And thus I remain an observer.
Of pure smiles and warm hands, grazing warm faces pressing against warm lips
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forgottencupofcoffee · 4 hours ago
At times they are like a forest,
Covered in a rich green—
Wander about careless,
And you can get lost easily.
Other times
They remind me of the caribbean sea,
A wonderful mix of jade and teal
Welcoming with the offer of relief.
Captured men are not angry about their captivity
For they are of a captivating beauty
Her eyes are alluring
They are her very own emerald city
Or maybe something dionysian
Lord knows the chaos that occurs in a man
When freed by those viridian eyes
She's only the sweetest of wines.
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mycollectioncloud · 6 hours ago
104.’s about to drastically change, Making it different while trying to stay the same.
Tight squeeze at first, Then it will get better.
With change comes uncertainty, My garden will yet become wetter.
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His gaze
Reminds me
Of moments
Than never were
A memory
That never was
A false hero
A lost nostalgia
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