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9/21/19

writerscreed prompt: an honest mess

an honest mess, bones knitted by worry. sitting on a ledge built of fuzzy, scratchy tension.

honestly, a mess. just a mess standing in front of a girl. 

messy, honestly, all the words spilling out, sludge slumped in the corners of text messages. things said, messily, while she’s smiling and tossing her hair, things unsaid, honestly, while her back is turned, while she’s distracted

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“What if you are the love of your life?”

Oh my god, I hope that’s not true, I am absolutely not my type.

But let’s say for a moment I am.

Let’s say I’m my dream person and I’m standing on my front porch ringing my own doorbell waiting for me to answer;

Let’s say I’m so charmed by the radiance of my own anarchy, wondering why I never knew I’d been cast for the lead in my own life.

When it comes to love the only thing I am certain of is: I am the best thing that has ever happened to me.

And I’m still learning how to stay alive, I’m still yet to get my worst tattoo. I know there are things I haven’t survived.

- Andrea Gibson, Boomerang Valentine

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I Want To Be Inside You by Pierre de Ronsrad

A hundred times I wish I could transform myself

And become an invisible spirit that hides inside your heart

And seeks to comprehend your scorn

Which seems to me so cruel.


I would become master of your emotion.

I would discover the pulse of your nerves

As they flow through your flesh and change

Your disdain. And then I would know you.


In spite of yourself, against your will

I would be a part of your desires and your terms.

And I would chase the coolness from your veins.


So perfectly, love could set fire to you,

Then, when I saw them burst into full flame,

I would step out and be a man again.

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“I’m the only one of me, baby that’s the fun of me.”

it’s the 5th of september

and i am writing instructions

on how to miss me

every bare back

is not mine

every girl

with her hands

in a poem

is not me

but you’ll wonder

you’ll hope

you’ll tap that

hope on the shoulder

and it’ll feel like a brick chest

every time she isn’t me

if you see a yellow

flower pressed

between pages

if you see a broken

dish, shards of something

no longer beautiful

i am missing you too

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Ours is not a romance. It is a tragedy. History made it so. Not to tell a lesson. But to make people feel…feel something. Love is not always good for the heart. It is not always butterflies in the stomach, or a bouquet of freshly picked roses. It is a game that we have to play sometimes. Even though the rules are not always fair and you have to die a death you don’t deserve to give life to the other. You can’t complain. Nor file an appeal. That’s not how it works. For the jury, it doesn’t always give its verdict in favor of the hopeless romantic. The judge passes your sentence with the pound of his gavel. And the next thing you know, you’re being thrown in a faraway dungeon. No, it is not a romance at all. History has its own messy twists, don’t you think? And love…it is not always blissful. So if you have to drink from that cup, make sure you are capable of enduring unspeakable things. For that’s the essense of everything love has ever put forth for the sake of its own godly name.


-Love isn’t always good for the hopeless romantic,

Katie, 20:00

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We’ll always be waiting for our first love

Now, i forgive people

Like mature people do,

I learn from my mistakes,

Like mature people do,

And now i dont trip on my words,

When i am looking for an outlet,

Like mature people do,

But i still wait,

For that love that was never mine,

That was wind and i can still smell

Now i can lie like fluid,

Convincing and yet adored like a goddess,

And now i don’t look back,

Maybe only at the darkest of nights,

Maybe when i am all alone

Because that is all i want to be,

Like mature people do.

But still,

I am waiting for my forst love,

With my eyes on road,

At every place i go,

And in everyone i meet,

And everything i look upto,

Its a maze i am not able to solve.

And everyone of us,

Long for the day,

For the longing to end,

And the epiphany to dawn.

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Originally posted by binders-and-beanies

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You have the right to remain silent

You have the right to remain-

Oh heart

The law isn’t wrong

But you followed the song

Telling you

To spill it all out

All of it

Like water

And drowned him

In a stream

Of confessions

You could have just stored

Inside

Let them boil down

With the cold truth

Memories you don’t remember

Forgetting

Now the flashbacks

Are coming too fast

A dizzying speed

Of moments in polaroid pictures

//

His face floats

On the mess

Of stark honesty

Breaking free

From your mind

Why did you say

You love him

Like you could hold on

To this promise

Forever

Why did you say

You care so much more

Than anyone will ever do

Why did you say

You are scared

To lose him

In the crowd

Scared he will

Let go of your hand

And be swallowed

By the fiasco

Why did you say

You will try

You will try to remain

Bounded by the things

That made you, you

Once upon a time

When the world

Was warmer

Than it feels now

Like Pleistocene is here

Playing on repeat

Making you cringe

From a touch

You used to like

So much

//

It’s weird

How your life

Became so messy

Well honestly

You could have

Remained silent

Intact with your soul

But you flowed

With the raging current

And told him

At first instance

About the chaos

All those moments

No one

Would care to listen

//

You have the right to remain silent

Yet heart, you talked

//

You have the right to remain

Yet heart, you fled

//

You have the right

Yet heart, you waived it

//

You have (it)

Yet heart, you lost-

Everything

Now all you got

Is the mess

Of collected

Confessions

About how you used

To feel about him

These of course

Are just phantoms now

Frightening you

Even more

Making you hide

Behind the veil

Of repressed memory

An escape plan

Time devised

To free you

From the horrors

Of the past


-An honest mess,

(It is right to remain silent)

Katie, 16:30

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I’m standing under the clear skies, blue like the day you left

in the lavender fields where we made our vows

and I couldn’t help but wonder, 

what it’ll be like to love you now.

- M.L

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“There were so many mountains in her eyes, so many past years of self-made endless valleys carved into her soul. Darling, didnt you know I love to climb and hike? I will build fires on each of those mountain tops to warm you. I will place lanterns along each endless valley path to mark the end of the word "alone”. My darling, hand me those daunting task and I will fill them with this never ending love I have for you.“

-J.River

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“The night is lit by the blushes of stars, as they are wooed by the dark: and the blue so loves the Sun, that her joy warms everyone.”

‘Suns and Stars,’ - Megan’s Poetry #655

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I am ever growing

I don’t need your fake glitter to shine

My skin is blessed every morning with cosmic glistening holy water

I was liberated by supernova herself

Watch as her stars shoot from my skin, falling to the Earth

Every step I take sunflowers rise to greet me

Listen one more time

I’m ever glowing

Constellations shine through my skin

Honey I’m the goddamn MilkyWay

J.River

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