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About Varied / Hobbyist Xanatos-LeoUnknown Groups :iconpoetry-for-the-soul: Poetry-For-The-Soul
Poetry that tugs heartstrings
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Literature
white china
Sunflowers grow up from within your lungs into your esophagus and choke you
When blooming in the fall
Yet you grinned all the same pressing the needle under my skin
Ink swelling between flesh layers, sloppily imprinting your name too close
To my humerus and forearm.
Poppy seeds flooded your arteries and derailed you with shakes
When their numbers dwindled
Almost as if instinct you became nails with rancid eyes
I wonder who would love you, if they knew the varmint sewn under your lacey
Skin. Would they still hold you when you sweat and bleed, thrashing in defense
Moonflowers open through your irises and glow through early morning chills
Blooming when the only source of light dies
Yet you hummed all the same flicking the lighter alive under metallic curves
Bubbles rising between lemon juice and powder, briskly sucked through
A needle and tube.
Orchids arch around your spine slowly pierce their shoots through your dermis
White blossoms tainted with blood
Almost as if living in denial you
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Literature
.
Pump vomit from my guts,
Oh, precious, we’re chained again
Handcuffed both wrist and rib
You never move while I writhe
I hated you. Dwelled about you and blamed you
This blood thirsty worm, eating me from the inside
Of my brain out.
Defecating sand into my veins and ink into my eyes
Years after years I ripped at your shackles
Clawing your flesh under my nails
You pulled me out of the water screaming
Let me to shrivel on this dry earth
Cracking my bones with your smoky breath
Drawing me close to caress my capillaries with your claws
Felt my flesh shiver and break
Squeezed till there was no more air, and deformity lingered
Oh, precious, make me vomit
Crumble my bones to dust
Drain me of my blood and fill me with gunpowder
Chew my arm with your teeth, wrench my rib from my chest
Be free from me, for I have fought to be free of you
We both cannot reside in the same soul
Anymore
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Literature
purple freckles
there's blood on his knuckles
and purple spreading across your freckles
his words whip you, ripping and stinging
pressing you against the cold wall, trembling
there’s bourbon steaming from his tonsils
and his spit spraying your nostrils
vibrations bleed out of your bones
as if the marrow itself coughing from the tones
there was a bottle in his hand, long and dull
and it shattered upon contact to your skull
skin splitting, plaster cracking, wishing adieu
you know he can kill that too.
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Literature
how to write a sentence
Settling dust from an uproar
Timid trembling after an outbreak
A sentence wavering and sore
The verb’s mask painted fake
Subjects totem pole tall
The direct object deceiving
Ambiguity fast and crawl
The preposition bleeding
A broken statement
A weak complete thought
A subject, verb, and a vacant
I am. Therefore I’m not.
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Literature
pray for me
One day I’ll come clean
And it will tear you apart
There’s a reason why I’m at war with myself
You’re in love with the idea of me
But if I stripped down
You would barely be able to look at me
I fall for the people who I can’t have
I lie so you will love me too
But when I fall in love too deep I realize
You never loved me, but someone else
I understand if you must go
I understand if you never want to hear from me again
I can’t promise I won’t get over you soon
I’ll still write you heartbroken letters every couple months
I’ll still dream of you and wake up crying
I’ll hate myself for having hurt you
I’ll hate myself for lying in the beginning
We both could’ve been better off
But I loved loving you
And I loved being loved by you
As much as it killed us both, you more than me
Please know that I’m slowly dying anyway
I swear one day I’ll take my life
In the middle of the night, at some abandoned subway
I pro
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Literature
integral
Ashen rock pressured from all directions
Eventually becomes the most valuable material
A misshapen seed placed in literal feces
Grows and eventually blossoms into the most expensive flower
A meaningless flower in the field
Can be crushed into powder from the heavens
Maybe you haven’t been found to be valuable yet
Maybe you haven’t bloomed yet
Maybe you’re not from the heavens yet
But you have felt pressure
And you have lived in feces
And you have been found meaningless
But you’re ashen, misshapen, and meaningless self
Fits all the empty places that I have
I need to you to become integral
And that makes you priceless
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Literature
too much
If you were my stitches
I’d be your bandaid
If you were a complete sentence
I’d be a fragment
If you were snake skinned high heels
I’d be duct tape flip flops
If you were a flower
I’d be your soil
If you were a complete puzzle
I’d be your pieces
If you were my ignition
I’d be your flame
If you were ganja
I’d be heroin
But you never felt love
And I felt too much
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Literature
I
I used to write
I used to bleed out every ounce of pain I felt
That I couldn’t express in real life
I screamed about frustration and fear
I cried about being hurt
About being angry
About being confused
I pointed fingers to my family
To my attackers
To those who hurt me.
I used to pour words on pages
Dumping everything poisoning my heart.
Then I met you.
Let’s be honest, I’m far from a perfect person
I’m stapled together with a dash of hot glue
My coping mechanisms are not even close to good
And I lie, sugarcoat, and laugh my way into
My own deception.
Only I pulled you in on it too.
I started writing to you instead
I pulled up flowers in other people’s gardens
Painted over my own face
I wrote sonnets and love songs
I wrote to you.
And then I wrote after you.
And after that I wrote nothing
It was as if someone drained my chest
And instead of feeling too much I felt nothing
You would appear and all the pain I choked down that was never closed
Came flooding b
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Literature
Dante lied
Dante lied,
Hell is 38 degrees
In the middle of November
It’s sitting on the curb
And being so dry
The tears won’t come
Being so numb
That you feel everything
And nothing at once
Dante lied,
Hell is 82 degrees
In the beginning of May
It’s laying on soaked carpet
Unable to calm the shakes
The tears won’t stop
When in a matter of days
Everything you’ve fought for
Breaks your face
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Literature
Her
I thought it was you
Standing by the yogurt
Between aisle 3 and 2
In that ugly striped shirt
You didn’t notice me
As my heart plummeted to my toes
Your eyes were dark, skin ashy
Even your bones poking through your clothes
I recognized every mark, every mole
I knew every inch of your canvas
As if I had tattooed your very soul
But that was back when it was us
I gawked at you from aisle 3
My nerves became electric
Anxiety in a frenzy
It was silent amidst the hectic
I saw the grey eating you up
The rough edges protruding
Your pieces put together in a clump
Trying to go unnoticed, eluding
I forgot about the frozen orange juice in my hand
Thrown back 6 years before
When things suddenly went unplanned
And the rest I guess I chose to ignore
I wanted to forget
But you seemed to forget so much sooner
I felt like I stilled owed you a debt
As if I had to pay for who you were
Your eyes met mine
After you moved to the cereal
Paralysis crept over my spine
You didn’t see a person, but a ma
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Literature
house of flesh
Spiders live under my skin
Lacing blue and red web around my bones
When they die a little brown graveyard
Bubbles up from underneath
Flowers bloom in my lungs
Giving me growing pains from their spreading roots
I choke them with smoke
That I inhale from cigarettes
My heart is a phoenix
Roaring, catching fire too fast and crumbling
Only to be reborn from its’ ashes
Constantly resisting death
My eyes are hurricanes
Drowning and engulfing you
And everything around you
Held captive in my prison of blue
Plaster of Paris line my bones
The center is flesh
Bleeding dust between yearly
Tooth loss
Centipedes rake through my guts
Tickling and tensing every square inch
Causing vomit and shakes
That neither I or them can control
Lastly, you are the one residing in my head
Pressing against the beginning of my spine
Weaving insecure taunts
To my cauliflower brain
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-
It took all my strength to open my eyes
I won't reach for you anymore
I had given you the truth to all my lies
Even though my fingers itch for more
It made me numb to watch you smile
I won't whisper your name
I feel unbelievable guilt for being so vile
Eager, broken, desperately full of shame
I won't think of your face
It hurts to think my affections were a crime
Your existence resides under every space
I have loved you for the last time
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Literature
the art of stripping down
The subject hung in my throat for months
Possibly even a year
Kept putting it off because I knew it only took once
And everything we had built would disappear
To be completely honest I’ve felt unlovable
For just about my entire life
Disgusting, unattractive, untouchable
And every time I was rejected felt like a knife
I knew I needed to come clean to you
And after countless nights of crying
I sat you down to fill you in on a thing or two
I wanted to scream, and couldn’t stop shaking
Stepping away, I slowly pushed down my pants
Closing my eyes, I awkwardly lifted my shirt
I couldn’t even look at you, I didn’t have a chance
It didn’t really matter, my heart was already torn apart
My tears were uncontrollable as I undid my bra
The cold sweats of shame stabbed me again and again
Trembling and hurt, my hands exposed myself raw
My underwear on the floor, nothing covered me then
My knees wavered as every insult suddenly tattoo itself on me
I hate myself because I
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Literature
My heart
I’d say I would give you my heart
And all of my heart
But truth is,
It’s not mine to give
For people before you stole pieces
Sliced it into segments
And tore out my arteries
There’s not much left
But I can promise you what I have
You can pick what you like
From the mangled bloody mess
I’m sorry it’s not pretty anymore
(Be careful, cup it in both hands
It won’t stay together by itself anymore)
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*
I quickly learned growing up
Everyone holds knives.
And if you get too close
They'll slit your wrist.
Only when you show your scars
We're told to not self inflict.
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Literature
Red Yarn
We connected through red yarn
But you only tied it around your heart
While I sewed it into mine
I justified each sting of the needle
Repeating your promises with each stitch
Every time I felt a tug
I’d frantically gouge the needle deeper into my heart
Weaving the fuzzy thread with bloody fingers
But you only tugged harder
Till you were gone entirely
Except the course threads
Knitted into my flesh
We connected through red yarn
But you only tied it around your heart
While I sewed it into mine
I had to learn how to unstitch
As pieces of my pulped heart hung loosely on red fiber
No knife would cut it
As you wrenched harder and harder
I’m letting you go
But you have mangled pieces of me with you
Because you never turned around
To see that we are connected through red yarn
(Does it mean anything at all
That you still wear the yarn
Around your neck?)
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:iconmayasadventures:
MayasAdventures Featured By Owner Mar 1, 2017  Student General Artist
Hey! Glad to see you are back even though dA low key sucks, lol. Yay you are alive too!! Haha hey if you ever feel like it we should Rp
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:iconsinging-wolf-12:
Singing-Wolf-12 Featured By Owner Jan 16, 2017  Hobbyist Photographer
oh! Happy belated birthday! .3.
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:iconrechuli:
Rechuli Featured By Owner Jun 13, 2016  Hobbyist
Hello there, friend. *Free Icon/Emote* Molang (I Love It!) 
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:iconrechuli:
Rechuli Featured By Owner Apr 14, 2016  Hobbyist
:heart1: 
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:iconnullibicity:
Nullibicity Featured By Owner Jan 13, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
I just saw it was your birthday, and wanted to wish you a great one!! :heart:
Have a fantastic day! I hope it's the most memorable one, yet (:
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