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#spilled thoughts

Giver/Taker/Hider

Ocean, pond, pool, stream, River, waterfall Tributary, lagoon, sea, lake–

The one that changes most, From raging, whipping winds And violent beating down of rocks, White-spray bullets cracking ships’ hulls Drowning out their death with its own Inspiring songs and songs, lulling, relentless (Some might say awful)—

To deepening stillness, Hung with drooping evergreens Concealing dark roots underwater, Sliding under cover Of a reaching mist, Unstirred by passing breeze (Some might say stagnant).

The ocean/lake and everything else With rushing, pausing, stilling. (The changeable)

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𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞

𝐈 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐞

𝐈 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞

𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐞

- 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐉

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This isn’t a poem

You know I’d write better, if it was

And I know you won’t read this

Because you literally can’t

Because I’ve blocked you on every

Avenue of the Internet

And I know I can’t undo that


But every fiber of my being is shouting

I’M SORRY!

Want you back, kinda sorry

Standin’ outside your favorite

Sports bar

Belting the lyrics tattooed

On your forearm

Kinda sorry.

Learning country songs

On my tired guitar, kinda sorry

Wishing to be your “Southern Belle,” 

Again, kind of sorry


But we’ve reached an end

And all I can hope for

Is to resemble that woman

You spot at the train

Station

Looks like me

Runs away, like me

But I hope like hell you follow her

And that you fall in love

Right there

While the train’s waitin’


Pen

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i drank my coffee,
and felt
the high that comes
with caffeine 
and a new day,
and i believed I could solve
all the world’s problems
if you gave me
a pen
and a piece of paper,
but by noon,
the coffee was fading,
and I began
to wonder
why
anyone
in the world
would ever
want
to talk
to 
me 
about anything
because
i was a fraud,
and a nobody,
and 
that is when
I knew
I needed
another
cup
of coffee.
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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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The way I knew how to love

was by taking care of things.

Doing your dishes,

rubbing your feet,

dusting your dried up plants,

watering their fragile leaves,

going where I did not want to go,

doing what I did not want to do,

saying what I did not want to say,

all for you.

“You’re the mom friend.”

The mom friend?

Is that a thing?

I suppose to a deranged,

drugged up,

pathetic slip of a human being

a real person with real feelings

who takes care of you and your things

must be just a mom friend

who needs to mind her own damn life

and do her own damn thing.

But I shouldn’t be judgemental

and I should stay on my own side of the street,

but I didn’t know that then,

and now,

I care only for me.

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Your mouth poured so many lies that i can no longer recognize the truth from the lies, And for the first time i do doubt every time i called a ‘moment’. I no longer believe you or wait for you to come back, cause when you left it was a one way exit , and you knew there was no coming back but you left anyway- And so i won’t wait for your calls, texts neither your return , you no longer belong into my life even it a part of you will remain in my heart, the person i used to know once was probably a fantasy, another beautiful lie , or a version of someone you could have been, and whoever this person was , he left , dissapeared with no coming back and so am i.

@the-emptysouls

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They told me I seemed to heal fast. I wanted to tell them that every single day I wake up I have to pretend like it’s not real. Like you’re not gone. That you’re still only one phone call away. Because if I faced the truth at 8 am on a Tuesday morning I would not be able to function. I would sit in bed paralyzed, unsure how to appropriately morn the loss of my favorite person. So yes, I’m doing okay right now, because I’m living in a delusional reverie. One that gets shattered throughout the day, and I’m stuck with stained bloody fingers picking up the pieces, trying to survive.

-C.C.

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You finally realized that the place you called home was not just built beneath your skin.

It is found in the inner sanctum of someone’s heart, but this time it doesn’t feel transient like you have had once.

You spoke a language that has yet to be spoken—and never will be—but still someone understands you and was never bothered by being you.

Sometimes you feel like a stranger to your own self like a flashing red light in a night sky that is mistaken to be a star. But for someone, just by your existence, you are always enough.

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For the first time in a long time, I’m looking forward to Christmas and the new year, and I’m feeling this warmth inside of me that tells me everything will be okay from now on. Because even if things don’t go well at some point, I know I will overcome anything life throws at me.


This is my moment. Finally. And it feels so damn good.

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