"I am melting
my heart into gold,
so that it will be worth something
when I give it to her. I pick out every
flinch and fear that kept me
from doing this sooner.
I am ready for her.
I am ready."
Ashe Vernon
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I looked to you
With the hope
Of God
I worshipped you
And kissed the
Solid streets of gold
You walked
-God is a woman
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A fist and persuasion
Aren't that different
She's afraid of him
I'm afraid of you
His next strike
Your next move
His screams
Your silence
They take away
The same things
Our freedom
Our love
Trust
And vitality
-of boys that hurt us
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a poem a day keeps the therapist away.
written and submitted by @the-sleepy-poet
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i bent in strange angles
folded, i sharpened the edges
this mind was a paper squared away
to let loose warm water
[ on these origami bones
to let everything fall slow
& have it all melt to a colorspewed mush
...i am papier-mâché, in a way
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Starlings in Winter by Mary Oliver
Chunky and noisy,
but with stars in their black feathers,
they spring from the telephone wire
and instantly
they are acrobats
in the freezing wind.
And now, in the theater of air,
they swing over buildings,
dipping and rising;
they float like one stippled star
that opens,
becomes for a moment fragmented,
then closes again;
and you watch
and you try
but you simply can’t imagine
how they do it
with no articulated instruction, no pause,
only the silent confirmation
that they are this notable thing,
this wheel of many parts, that can rise and spin
over and over again,
full of gorgeous life.
Ah, world, what lessons you prepare for us,
even in the leafless winter,
even in the ashy city.
I am thinking now
of grief, and of getting past it;
I feel my boots
trying to leave the ground,
I feel my heart
pumping hard. I want
to think again of dangerous and noble things.
I want to be light and frolicsome.
I want to be improbable beautiful and afraid of nothing,
as though I had wings.
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this is the poem:
i am here now.
i hang up cuttings from plants in little glass jars to take root on my window, and this is the poem. i bake bread for my friends, and i sleep with the windows open. every winter, i forget how the birdsong carries, and every spring, the birds return.
this is where my friends come when they need someplace to go, and this is the poem. we share meals and music and sit on the floor watching movies together, because what else are you supposed to do in a world like this.
this is the poem: five years ago i didn't think i would ever get here. here, in this life that's soft and calm and mine. sure, i had to carve this out with my bare hands, but it's mine, and i have a moss green rug and i can dance and sing in the kitchen now, i can laugh without thinking about it twice. i don't have to hide.
my life is my own now, and this is the poem.
i am here now.
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Hopefully
Somewhere
in this
Everywhere
seeds of peace
germinate gradually
into a grand garden
of universal
euphoria
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Dear Diary
I write to you
faithfully
but get no reply
So this is a warning:
Either I hear from you
by sundown
or I withhold
the awful details
of my heart’s
dismal dreams
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If You Wish It
You never crossed the Lethe,
so you cannot forget.
I could make you forget.
*
What wins out
when love is strong as death?
*
I remember
climbing a wide stair
straight from an opium dream
to a room holding all sound close
with thick-woven secrets,
the blackened bedstead hinting
of vulnerable skin.
I remember
how fickle time slowed
for a bashful, forceful god.
*
What wins out
when death and love are one?
*
Sleep. Lighter than a feather
is the brush of flesh
with the universe.
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I found your laugh
today, while I was
in the attic. Still
wrapped in tissue
paper, packed safe
in a cardboard box.
I labeled it
'Books’ by mistake.
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The turn of your lips
electrifying
The melody of your laughter
Magnetizing
The curves of your hips
Oh so satisfying
From head to toe,
Darling, you're tantalizing
Giggles bubbling
From my throat
Heat rising
To my cheeks
Energy traipsing
Down my skin
Oh Darling,
I'm falling fast
-Exposing the soft parts
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What if giving another person a second chance
Was the only love you ever saw
What if those who were forgiven
Are the only ones granted names
The only ones blessed
Of the words in our mouths
Happy. Perfect. Memories.
Except those between us
Those memories
Forgiven without word
The scars and bruises
They gave us
Painted over with white
What if that was "I love you"
Would you give your love
A second chance?
-on generational trauma
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From the moment you met my lips
I was salivating
Sipping salaciousness
And sin
As you scoured my tongue
My mouth longs for you
And My body aches for you
The rise and fall
Of your chest against mine
The mountains
And valleys of your skin
Every cell
Erects in your presence
Every nerve
Sets ablaze
I was ravenous for you
-Savory
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Your name stings.
Like a child
I hopscotch around
To avoid the sound
But I trip
Or misstep
And the swarm rages out
Im attacked by
Every smile
Every kiss
Every tear
Our memories like venom
Course through my veins
And for a moment
I remember
What it feels like to die
-yellow jacket love
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"Lil peep is someone you listen to when you wanna off yourself"
I don’t know why that rang so true
I don’t know why I didn’t notice
I don’t know why I let you treat me the way you did for so long
It wasn’t all bad
But at the end everything was clearly crumbling around us
We tried to hold on for so long
But there was nothing left to grab onto
Nothing to sink our feet into
And now I listen to him when I wanna think about you
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I hope I crawl through your brain like a fungus
And i poison EVERYTHING.
I want my arms to reach every deep dark crevice of your mind
Squeezing toxins into your synapses and soaking up every ounce of serotonin sitting in your cerebellum
I hope I travel from cervical to sacral
And you feel me EVERYWHERE
in your fists
In your throat
In the tension of your muscles
I.
Hope.
You.
Feel.
Me.
As the heat
And the knots
And the rigidity in your jaw
I hope I break teeth
And burn the skin of every lover you caress
And that the boiling blood pumping through your chest reminds you of me
-the last of us
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