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You know I hate cigarettes…
I can’t ever breathe.
I hate the smell of them.
You can’t ever get the stench out.
you’re car, clothing or even your hair.
But you know when it comes to you,
I love you.
I feel like I can always get a breath of fresh air.
I love the smell of your jacket,
And the night we drove around in your car
I can ever get those memories out,
Even your clothing or even your hair.
It’s stronger than cigarettes…
.・。.・゜✭・.・。.・゜✭・.
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oresteias-heart · 3 months
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I am not me.♥︎♡
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I will never be able to write something original, something new, something that has never been created.
I lack skills, I lack sincerity, I lack everything that should just make me, me.
I have no empathy, I lack compassion.
I fear I may no longer be human with how I stand and look out to the world.
I fear, that I. Even I will never be an original, never something new. That even my bones, my humanity, are stolen. 
I will never be the art or even the artist.
I am no van Gogh, and I am no Picasso. 
I am not even me.
— Oresteia…♡
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poems-to-read · 8 days
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Once upon a time there was a witch who destroyed the stars because she lost hope.
In a world where there was only darkness, she was the only one who shined, but in a wrong way, she just didn't know it.
She made friends with animals that liked the cold, damp and dark, as they were ugly and dangerous and preferred to stay away from everyone, she somehow understood them.
The witch began to adopt and protect them, keeping them away from everyone who saw them as a threat.
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Artist's: Annie Stegg Gerard.
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poems-of-madness · 10 months
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In another life I would not have fought the state I would simply be a poet loving a man who does not believe in the government I would have shed more significant tears I would have been a poet whom the politicians would resent. I would be famous for my love, establishing laws and national anthems, with my hair braided in perfume. In another life, I would be a poet—an artist devoted only to the affair of summertime The summer, a holiday for the romantics. For the wild. For the obsessed ones. I would have been a poet without a diploma, without certificates, or credentials. And I wouldn't have implicated my heart in politics. I would give my heart solely to this man, kissing his hands and requesting all his summers. I would become his first lady, waving to a country that desires and is obsessed with me.
Mr. President by Royla Paula Rădița Asghar
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inked-soull · 1 month
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//Soft Dreams//
Kiss my lips
Bite my nape like you're hungry
Leave your mark
In the darkness
Whisper all that you wish to
Do to ravage me
I've been enchained
Tied up in throes of passion
Set my yearnings free
Melt me awake from
My half awakened soft dreams
And I inhale stars
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— "Outsider," Pepper Young (2023)
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cosmicbirch8 · 8 months
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Sunset Rapture
You flourish beneath apricot skies
Glacier eyes melting into shimmering skin
Honey dewed like the morning
You dance into rainbow lakes
Heartwarming
A vision of late summer days
A forest nymph
With an ancient glaze
A harvest of scented meadows
Adorning the evenings long lazy shadows
With sunflower smiles
And trinket laughter
A rising moon
Sunset rapture
Cosmic Birch
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putah-creek · 8 months
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more than 20 years after my father's death I dreamed of him shining down on the earth in a blue beam of light he had no body but I could see his face in the light we were in an empty field at night he said this is how I am now this is it I love you but I can't visit you here again when I woke up the next morning I felt a closeness to my father that we never had in life through death we had found each other at last
james lee jobe
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rymiersnape · 18 days
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Blind
I become blind when it comes to you
I don't know why, don't ask me, just I'm blind about you
Crazy huh? No, I don't think so
I even ask myself, what's wrong with me, but it's always you in my mind
Please call the police if you don't see me within 24 hours, and ask them to find me
It could be means I'm falling, not somewhere
but falling to you,
because,
you make me blind
— rSnape
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GHOSTS
We all have phantoms in our heads
Unseen shades that whisper fears
And secret threats that cause us dread
Echoes of our most painful years
They live hidden in our friends’ names
And between the silence of words
Filled with semblances of shame
A blank page where our sins record
Every possible retaliation
And each awaiting knife that aims
For our backs in retribution
These ghosts insist we are the same
As we were at our worst, no change
Allowed, no improvements made
No matter where we roam or range
We’re always back within the shade
Of graves we’ve dug and gallows hung
Suspended on anxiety’s tether
Hearing lies in each song sung
Forever under gloomy weather
No break in clouds our own heads carry
The new day’s sun just seems to taunt
That we can work or simply tarry
But make no home that ghosts won’t haunt
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꒷꒦꒷︶˚︶︶꒷꒦˚꒦꒷︶˚︶︶꒷꒦˚︶˚︶︶꒷
Hey it’s me your Favorite Chick,
I’m just callin cause I’m feelin pretty homesick.
Hasn’t been the same without you since you left.
I feel like a lunatic or someone who feels seasick.
Could you be home maybe by a quarter of six?
The way I should’ve kiss you with the same shade of lipstick that I left on your white collar,
Filling the holes of my sweater and maybe other things that feel sweeter,
“I swear this can get better.”
From that night with my voice as a soft whisper.
Rolling throughout your head “ you stupid just kiss her.”
I just want you to miss me,
Cause I know you’re up past 3.
Working till you’re fingers bleed.
And I’m just drivin’ tryin not to over speed.
Because baby I’m a thousand miles away,
And I’m just sitting here pretty.
But I’ll call you up to say “Hey there fuck that girl named Delilah”
What’s it’s like in New York city?
꒷꒦꒷︶˚︶︶꒷꒦˚꒦꒷︶˚︶︶꒷꒦˚︶˚︶︶꒷꒦
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oresteias-heart · 4 months
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Conversations with the moon, wishing it was you.
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Sometimes I drag out my conversations with the moon and I pretend I am talking to you,
Luminescence shining on my heart, there is nothing left of you I could love anew? You have stolen my words, my truth, and my fate.
I wish we could talk and talk the night away, my love. Why must life be so cruel? You have turned into the moon, and now my conversations never consist of you.
—Oresteia…♡
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thequotewaveslibrary · 9 months
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you are the knife I - turn inside myself
-Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena
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invisible war
let me knock on the door
trying to find something within
something hiding, something crying,
let me in to explore
everything and anything within,
till there is nothing left anymore.
only finding faith and hope dancing
no music to them is amusing
as though nothing else exist inside,
but let me see all the things within.
let me slowly break them apart
find out how they tick inside
perhaps then I can find a cure,
the lovely, beautiful, one pill cure
for we only ever would need one ,
to bring an end to this war.
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inked-soull · 2 months
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//Unseen terror//
Lurking in the shadows
Invisible horrors rise
Mysterious & eerie
Haunting our minds
Sighs of unseen souls
Of fractured dreams
And broken hearts
Lost in the dark night
Untouchable, ghostly
Yet deeply felt
Unknowingly, we carry
The weight of unseen terror
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