imaginary futures
My mind is a maze of "what ifs" and "could've beens", hopelessly entangled in the labyrinth of our imaginary future, never to be.
There is nothing more devastating than a story left unwritten, I am convinced, as my pen drips with the ink I longed to spill for you.
It breaks my heart to think of all the ways I could have loved you but never got the chance.
What I mean is, I wanted our love to fill every page of every book in the library of our hearts while you were content to settle for mere sentences.
-you were the novel I never wanted to end in a sea of tabloid magazines.
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— Elegy for My Sadness, Chen Chen
[text ID: Maybe the centipede in the cellar / knows with its many disgusting legs / why I am sad. No one else does.]
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Chen Chen, from "Elegy for My Sadness," When I Grow Up I Want to Be a List of Further Possibilities.
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Chen Chen - Elegy for My Sadness
Maybe the centipede in the cellar
knows with its many disgusting legs
why I am sad. No one else does.
I want to be a sweetheart in every moment,
full of goats & xylophones, as charming
as a hill with a small village on it.
I want to be a village full of sweethearts,
as you are, every second of the day,
cooking me soups & drawing me pictures
& holding me, my inexplicable & elephant sadness,
with your infinite arms.
But isn’t it true, you are not
always why I am happy. & I promise
it is true, you are almost never why,
why I am sad. You are just
in the same room with me & my unsweet,
uncharming, completely
uninteresting sadness. I wish it could
unbelong itself from me, unstick
from my face. Who invented the word
“ennui”? A sad Frenchman?
A centipede? They should’ve never
been born. They should’ve seen me
in Paris, a sad teenage
exchange student. I was so sad
& so teenaged, one day my host sister
gripped my hand hard & even harder
said, SOIS HEUREUX.
BE HAPPY. & miraculously,
I wasn’t sad anymore.
All I felt was the desire to slap my host sister.
See, I was angry in Paris, which is clearly
not allowed. One can be sad in Paris (I was)
& one can be in love in Paris (I was not),
but angry? Angry in Paris?
Now, I am in love—with you!—though sometimes
terribly sad for no good reason, & not so much
angry as guilty when you say to me,
Don’t cry, don’t be sad, as if my sadness
could sink this room, this apartment, this
whole city not Paris. But does my sadness
always need to be your sadness?
I wish I could write an elegy for my sadness
because it has suddenly died. I wish I could mourn it
by kissing you again & again while neither of us
can stop laughing, a kind of kiss where we sometimes
miss the mouth altogether, a kind of kiss
I think every single dead person
in every part of the world must crave
with violent impossibility.
- Elegy for My Sadness by Chen Chen
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my emo poem
alone in this world
only darkness lies within me
secrets that i hold
what else can it be truly?
i've held back my doubts
i've held back my tears
i've kept my head high and stout,
throughout these years
underneath the surface
enveloped in my shadows of woe
my heart is locked in a case
for i am the only foe i know
hidden in the corner
dreaming away
i find life too sober,
so i run away
through the thickets of regret
through the webs of lies
all the things that i had set
fade away no matter how many times i had tried
no one knows me
i am a shadow of my past
no one has seen me
till the end shall my sadness last
lies and rumors i had made,
just to keep up with the game
the life i wasted was such a shame
since then, i've never felt the same
no one really cares
nothing really matters to me
i try to ignore all the stares,
even though what is unknown can be seen
the young child i once knew told me someday my deeds wold be true
the young child i once knew made me promise that i'd never be blue
but, young child i once knew,
i am sorry
i have failed you
young child i once knew
t'is time i told you the truth
i am nothing
no one who loved me never really tried
i am nothing
the old me i once was has died
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"You said you'd read me like your favorite childhood book. Cherishing every word as they mimicked a story you knew so well. While evolving over the years into something much more. Studying my eyes as the illustrations of my soul poured out in tears like rivers you traveled. Yet instead of flowing with the currents of happiness you forced me to bend my pages at your will; fraying my already delicate edges, tearing me apart and leaving me waiting for days on end... -jdr/withinthesplendor
Man Ray - Tears
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this room was built for one chair only,
i'm not empty, i'm just lonely
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he asked her what she wanted to be, she told him i want to be a village full of sweethearts, as you are, every second of the day, cooking me soups & drawing me pictures & holding me, my inexplicable & elephant sadness, with your infinite arms
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most likely won’t be polishing this any time soon if ever but I wanted to put it down on paper so 🧘
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I am looking for a version of our story
Where we don't break each other into pieces
But we both knew our love would shatter us from the start.
I didn't mean to take my sledgehammer, love, to your crystalline heart
But the words came out faster than i realized
and whats been said can never be undone.
Mostly, the only words I can think to say are,
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
But sometimes there's no one to blame when beautiful things end.
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RosErik poem once again
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—tag drop
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Chen Chen, "Elegy for My Sadness", When I Grow Up I Want to Be a List of Further Possibilities
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i cannot do this right now someone hold me
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