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It's something terrible to feel But something that is real. Deep inside the heart Where it is painted to be art Love is created By two who were fated.
I want to lie down for a while, Forget that I exist, forget that I am an entity that requires existing to be seen as real I have long been struggling With little demons
When assigning colors to things, I think that: Logic is black against white and white against black.
Introverted and maybe a little perverted I stay inside my room with no plans for returnin' My life is going down and it seems like its burnin'
Pen. Paper. Thoughts. Words. Feelings. Unfinished trains of thought. Wants. Needs. Desires. Plans. All lie within the space between My poetry and me.
I am Unfinished. My edges aren't sanded smooth There are creases and circles worn into my eyes, There are scars and callouses on my hands There are stripes of uneven bronze across my skin
Dominicana. Y gringa. Decidete. So I am both.
What this money means to me Is that one day I'll succeed I'll succeed to achieve my dreams
These days feel like half-empty sheets of paper and I don't have enough ink in my pen My coffee has gone cold but I continue drinking, because drinking is a nervous habit of mine
Every word I say of you Unfinished. Every tale I tell of you Unfinished. Every moment spent with you Unfinished.
i am only branches and leaves you carved into my finite flesh and still used my shade took all i had left me bare and petrified i can give no more for i am only branches and leaves (c.z.)
I’m faking a smile. Is it all worthwhile? Seeing my friends, My happiness bends. I fear it shall end. The stress, it still builds, Though I wish life would gild.