Let me.
let me be hurt
let me be angry
let me be upset
that my body’s not working
let me cry
and complain to the wind
you’re supposed to understand
you’re supposed to be my friend.
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I love creating this stories in my mind, the imagination is so vivid, like this is how things will go and I'm so sure it's like that.
Then, it's time to put it on paper and I start getting stuck🥲🥲
So many of my stories end up halfway, I never get it finished😂
Writing is a pleasurable torture🖤
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daisies 🔆
Flowers.
They’ve always amazed me.
Such unique beauty lying in each of them, every another much beautiful as the last.
they seem peaceful to me.
I sometimes wonder what if humans were that way,
not unique or beautiful,
but peaceful.
take the ones in front of me,
purple at best, blooming like all they ever had to was show themselves to make gods vulnerable.
spring bloomers that’s what they’re called - tulips, all of them.
I bet if you look at them long enough they seem like dancing fairies, waving to the wind.
maybe they are, but we just don’t-
“Hey”
I look up,
and he’s staring at me,
the boy with big green eyes, eyes with a bit of coffee in them, just enough to make them milky.
or maybe it's the hair that has me eyeing through my lashes, it's brown, this golden brown that I can’t tell whether it's the colour of his hair that’s that way or the sun hitting him just right.
I’ve seen him around, just never thought of going near him.
or saying “hi”.
I realise that now it's me who’s staring when he states an obvious “I’ve seen you a lot here”. Well of course he has,
I'm always here, looking at the flowers. It's a big garden full of them, I think I have the right to look at least.
“yeah,” that’s what I answer, yeah, that’s all. A simple word that has become so complex for me that I sometimes forget maybe it's still the same simple word for others.
He waits, waits for me to say something more. But I don’t.
I look back at the tulips, again crouching as I once was, not only smelling but feeling them.
he’s still there, I can feel him too, feel him looking at me, at the flowers in front of me, at the way I look at the flowers in front of me.
“what’s your favourite flower?”
a specific question, with the simplest chain of words. Yet, I think, about all the flowers that I’ve ever seen, all the beauty of them, the different fragrances. I could say, that I like all of them equally, but that won’t be so true. In the back of my mind, there is that ONE, the one I would like to call my favourite.
“daisies” I answer without glancing at him.
he seems to consider my brief response, nodding his head, he seems to come to terms with it.
then he crouches down in front of me, and looks at me, studying me like I'm his 5th-grade science project that his mom made for him and he’s trying to understand it and become familiar with it before he presents it to the class, claiming it as his own.
“I’ve never seen you this close. May have noticed those freckles”
my face warms up, and I can feel my cheeks Redding. I say nothing.
I stand up and he follows like a shadow. And for the first time, I notice how much taller he is than me.
“it was nice meeting you,” I say not expecting an acknowledgement back.
“it was nice meeting you too,” he says back instead with a small smile. I turn and yet I still feel it, the smile.
I walk back home deciding that was enough socialising for a day.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
“I got you a daisy”
look it wasn’t exactly my plan on meeting the green-eyed human again,
but he Did bring a daisy for me.
it's that white kind with those yellow spores in between.
my favourite.
“Thanks” I hold the petal, feeling the texture. “Thank you”
he just smiles at me, smiles at me like I'm the only flower for him in this big field of weeds, the only flower that caught his attention.
I like that.
maybe I can be someone's favourite flower one day.
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Quiescent
The morning light shines through the eddies murkily, lighting her surroundings in a thick, dim glint. It reflects off the ripples, moving in gentle circles, like the rise and fall of a beating heart.
The sand too, undulates around her in slow waves, each grain hefting itself off the ocean floor to join its companions in their eerie dance, twisting and turning through the water like acrobats in slow motion, each frame caught and near frozen, in a wash of shimmering gold. They circle her, murmuring in their slip-slide voices, watching, and wondering.
There is music here, though few know to listen, in the thick, heavy voice of the Ocean. She sings to her, in the bursting of bubbles, in the shifting of waves, in the ghostly whale-songs drifting down from far above. She lulls her to sleep, folded away in Her vast embrace, and speaks to her, in the sighs of silken fins, telling stories of dolphins leaping through the air, and turtles, swimming back to their homes.
Through much of this, she sleeps, her moments of wakefulness, rare and ephemeral. There is little to disturb her, but the skim of sand across her skin, and the slight churning of the water as She rages far above, but this too, subsides quickly, and she has long grown used to it.
When she does wake, though, and tastes the tang of salt in the water, and feels the glide of brine against her belly, it is to recall, with nostalgia, the feel of swaying wood beneath her feet, the breath of the air against her face and the steadiness of gunmetal in her hands. She remembers people too, remembers hands, and eyes and countless nameless faces. She remembers the shapes of their smiles. But they are from days long past, and she soon returns to her slumber.
Her resting place, known to few, if any, lies deep in the Ocean's most hallowed spaces, protected in Her arms from one and all. There are no legends of her, no myths or tales or fables, but those that were spread during her mortal life. Thus, she rests, her peace undisturbed, waiting.
Always waiting.
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A Creator’s Spell
Swish
Flick
Pull
Yarn over again
Swish
Flick
Pull
Create things for all my friends
Swish
Flick
Pull
A hook, a needle, some thread
Swish
Flick
Pull
Tie off, the end.
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What is one poem that you wish the whole world could see?
omg wow. That is just like so powerful.
Ohhh I have so so many
I’d say, it’d be the one I’m working on for a competition buuuttt I can’t really show that YET. I’ll post it in a couple weeks tho!!!
so, in that case:
Before I Drown
Before I drown,
I have a story
A tale of a man,
Lost in glory
He lost everything
For he was out of touch
He wanted it all
It was never enough
And now he rots,
Turning to dust
Before I drown,
Sing me a lullaby
A song of simplicity
Of truth
Tell me you love me
Like I never even knew
Tell me stories
Of your past
It’ll make this slow death
A little more fast
Before I drown,
Kiss me goodbye
Tell me you love me,
How you’ll see me tonight
Before I drown,
Walk away slowly
I was never going to change
You know me.
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we used to be
we used to be happy
shiny and clean
you used to be
all I’d ever need
we used to know
how far along
it’d last
we used to love, yknow.
we used to be whole.
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I am stone, a mix
of lime and love,
petrified
by Medusa herself
my body is bare
the wind catches my hair
I live forever
in this mineral world
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don’t listen anymore
His head is a safe, no one
can get past the door
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I’d do it for you.
Find me in corners
Alleys and photos
Places you know
Where I don't belong
I hated to sing
So you find me at karaoke
Nervous and shaking
As I sing your favorite song
I hated the mornings
So I watch the sunrise
Waiting on you
Find me in libraries
Though I hate the quiet It was always too boring, But I'm browsing the shelves
If you're wondering why
I always seem
To be changing my mind
I can’t answer your question
Until you tell me the truth
Cause if you like it
Then I do too
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30 Day Poetry Challenge - Day Three!
Today’s prompt - our own world!
I see it in my dreams
A place where we can be
Left alone endlessly
I see it in my mind
I hope it’s a sign
That we’ll last to infinity
I can draw the blueprints
Not a single detail to be amiss
Perhaps my reward should be a kiss
It’s a house with a porch
It has so much in store
Cabinets and closets galore
It’s a world of our own
A house, each others hearts to hold
To watch our kids as we grow old
I see it in my dreams
I guess that’s why I couldn’t see
That the only one who wanted it was me
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Tippy
Tap
Hear my keyboard clack
Tippy
Tap
Watch me write while | eat a snack
Tippy
Tap
Spew words out while I can
Tippy
Тар
Before my brain and hands clash again
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I’m lost in time again
a world of creation I
live in, drown in hours
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If I didn’t matter to you
You could’ve just said
I’m tired of your bullshit
And how you talk like lead
If you’re a bitch
Say it and leave
Be a jerk
But let me be
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30 Day poetry challenge - Day Two!
Todays prompt… reflection!
You can find me at a pond
With narcissus and his shield
Staring at the water
Like it’s my last meal
Look at your pupils
I see me in you
I hope it’s a question
And not a clue
See myself
In different hues
Wondering always
If I’m like you
I wish I was
You’re so perfect
But only just now
My feelings surface
I find myself in your skin
Being more than I am
It’s a hard comparison
Not what I planned
To break free of your shadow
Is all I would ask
But before the shade was nice
So that’s why I basked
But now I sit
Staring at the clouds
The feelings I have
I finally say aloud
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