Category: Poetry
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We are not cuts waiting, to be stitched back together by the right person but, Each person we meet is a thread, A link in the chain, that helps you mend yourself. You are not helpless.
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Hate me, go ahead, Hate me with all you’ve got. The more you hate me – did they not tell you? The closer you keep me tied to your heart. So with Christ, or Buddha, the universe or the circus, Whoever it is you believe in… Thank you for the love.
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Monsters are real, But they bare no snarling teeth, No sharp horns, or red evil eyes, But they will still snare you when most vulnerable. They won’t growl or hiss, They’ll come with promises and the sweetest words, They will bare the eyes of a thousand rotting lies, They will win your heart, Only to…
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I have a strange love for untied shoelaces, and old maps. Chipping paint and disasters begging to happen. Ponds believed to be oceans and gnarled, twisting trees that could tell tales a thousand years long. I have a strange love for childhood scars and ink stained hands. bumps on noses, faces with ancestry and lines…
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I tried to write a poem, About a phoenix but, I didn’t know how to get past, The part where he burns. I write more poems, About healing that I am familiar with. I wish I had more poems, About healing, That I learned from experience. This is me, Trying to write a poem brighter…
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I do not look much like a butterfly, If I were to fly, I’d be more of a blimp, Been going through my own phases, Metamorphosing I may not glide like a butterfly, Gracefully, I’ve always favoured the snail, But still with a purpose, I was born to love, I am not colourful, I’m shades…
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Comfort clothed in Music A film silence Loved ones, Chaos of a city Serene a top a mountain Laughter The hush of morning The crickets at dusk The space……between thoughts Where God resides.
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I can fold, enter the rabbit hole of words, books, stories. Disappear for a time, Emerge alive…. ….Rip words off the tattered pages, Splatter them on spotless parchment, What’s left, The dregs; Are me. Parts and bits, Of me.
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Stay golden will you? Like mornings, when the sun peaks between the trees, Like dusk, when it waves behind the mountains. Like honey, sweet, sweet honey Like sunflowers in the morning Bright and beautiful and golden.