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#poets

(i’m gonna miss my) stupid fucking hometown

i’ve always hated this goddamn town.
filled with know-it-all freaks and hard r’s and acres and acres of endless corn
stretching out into oblivion like the seaside rendezvous i never earned
stinking of the shame of indifference rather than that sweet sea salt breeze living in my
half-baked memories, reconstructed like trying to shape taffy sat too long in the sun.
the town has always housed the worst kind of people- the uppity kind that have too much time on their hands and absolutely nothing in their brains but their own opinions.
so small minded so little to do everything is small the views are few and far between and there has never been a bike path connecting my neighborhood to the rest of town until this year as if i always had to work a little bit harder to get where i needed to go as if the town itself was rejecting me for resenting it and all that it stands for.
when someone asks me what i do for fun i imagine travel. i daydream daily, and i have always hated, hated, hated this town, this state, this region, this life.
i shriek and shrink away from any kind of pride i hope and pray that no one ever asks me where i am from because everything is so useless here so passive aggressive all “are you sure about that”s and ignoring you in classes who gives a rat’s ass about popularity all i ever asked for was friends but i hold them all to an impossibly cool standard as if i need the best backdrop for my shitty sleepovers as if i will ever be able to grasp at importance like the straw littering my town even with a ten foot pole in the greatest city in the world my goals are unattainable.

but when i stood at that podium.
when i walked out of that stadium.
i left a piece of myself behind.
i was crushed when i found out this state had its clutches in me for four more years, even when i hung my hopes on the thought of leaving to prevent myself from hanging my body.
but.
some of the people there that day i will never see again. kindergarten kids. friends and familiar faces that i will never have again. i spent so long wishing a way out that i didn’t bother appreciating what i have around me until now.
college isn’t “embarking on a new journey”.
it’s a pit stop on the way to a better personality.

i hate this town. everyone else does, too.

i wanted to be anywhere else.

but now it’s like-

it’s stuck in my head.
every passing view, every shared joke, every ocean of stupid fucking corn i pass-
it’s all mine.
i don’t know if i’m ready to let it all go.

a.g.w.

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if you were to go

you should know

I’d wish you well


if you were to leave

you need to believe

I’d wish you well


if you found a new home

leaving me alone

I’d wish you well


if people asked me why

through the tears I cry

I’d wish you well


to everyone I tell

I still wish you well


so with each new day

I’ll get down and pray

I just wish you’ll stay

8 notes · See All

I don’t think bravery is a choice because if it was that easy we’d all choose it. Bravery is not giving up. Bravery is having hope, it’s holding on and knowing when to let go. Bravery is believing, bravery might just be the tiny voice that says I’m going to try. Bravery is I will do this.

hma_writes

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image

when all the light cannot save you

out of the null and void

you choose to be blue.

they don’t ask you of the

dearth of colours you were offered

how all the bright ones were

kept so far that your legs

couldn’t carry you

how your bleeding fingers

reached out to blue and didn’t

taint it purple.


they only saw you, a destitute

they only saw the blue on you.


blue. look up to the skylight.

you’re talking to a silhouette.

a ghost, a soon-to-be ghost.

when all the light cannot save you

i’ve seen you sit in the shadows

not caring if the world mourns

not caring if they look for you

and where will they? in whose cradle

under whose kiss, in whose embrace?


tonight, even if apollo holds me

in his golden arms, i will be a suction

a black hole that he gleams next to

and his tears will burn red over my face

even gods mourn, they scream like madmen

when all their light cannot save us.


when all the light cannot save you

you sort of choose to be blue.

me? a silhouette

a soon-to-be ghost.

like the skylight, like you

painted, hued, tainted

blue.


— p. // when all the light cannot save you

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i don’t know if i’m worthy of being called a poet

i just think i’m a lost teenager who tries her best to be stoic

it’s not convincible and they all know it

but they hand me the title like they bought it for me

i adore their adoration for me

even if i don’t think that it’s meant for me

i owe my life to those that believe in me


thank you // kira malibu

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From whence we came,

Darling, we shall go

Rome has burned

Just like my heart, head, and soul

When may I meet you

Where shall we go

I’ve been waiting a millenia

For a familiar soul

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I found sunshine in the pollen

And I threw it in the air

I found sunshine in her smile,

Sunshine everywhere

I found grayness and darkness,

And white light everywhere

I found the sunshine in the pollen,

falling from her hair

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I am not broken

Because of what

You did to me.


I can still fly,

My wings are

Tattered and torn,

But not stolen.


You did not

Capture the light

Within my soul

When you ripped me apart

From the inside out.


You want to bend

And mold me

So I can fit

Into your scaly hands.

You think I’m frail

Skin fragile like glass,

But after your fire

Caressed me

I became armored

With steel

Impenetrable.


Your heinous words

Bounce off me now

Shatter on the floor

Like glass.


I will watch you cry

Over the mess you made

Unshaken.

Flood my room

With empty promises,

Fraudulent “I’m sorry”s,

And thousands of gentile smiles

Before you throw

A thousand more punches

If you dare.


Never again will I live in fear

Of your shadow

Because I am not blinded

By the gaslights anymore.

I can finally hear

The sirens wailing in my heart,

You can no longer silence them.


Touch me again

And I will scream

From the rooftops

The nightmare

You dragged me through.


I am no longer your shelter

I should have left

When the first crack was made

In my walls of trust

As love does not exist

In a home

Without trust.

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It has been so many days now, where my time has been taken up my empty quotation marks. They are blank, empty spaces with amorphous voices, sometimes murmuring low and sometimes visceral high voices, turning round and round.. An indefinate hum..

When do I escape this? Just a crack and I could jump out

I could do more.

I could live.

-s. nk

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