#poem? idk
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palestinegenocide · 10 months ago
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Everyday I think about Gaza
When I go to bed, warm and comfortable. I think about the freezing people in tents who barely have scraps to keep them alive
When I take a shower, unafraid of the water stopping or going cold. I think of the people in gaza who havent showered for months and barely have clean drinking water.
When I watch my brother play with his race cars and my sister with her dolls, I think about the children, who despite all their hardships still find ways to smile and play
When we sit down to eat dinner, never having to fear food on the table the next day. I think about the starving mothers who can't feed her children and the older siblings walking miles to feed his siblings. I think about the people who died of starvation. I think about the people of gaza
When I go to my school where my friends chat and my teachers teach, I think about the universities demolished and the aspiring students who are no more
When my parents leave for a few hours and I take care of my siblings, I know they'll be back in a while to take over. But what about the teenagers turned parents? What about the orphans caring for toddlers? What about the children in gaza
Every day I think about the hopeful people of Palestine. The brave people of Palestine. The relentless people of Palestine. The stubborn and beautiful people of Palestine.
When I look at my house, the buildings, the sky, the water, my family, the lights, the sun, the internet, the food, my school, my friends, the children, the parks, the birds, the cats, the toy stores, the supermarkets, the bustling crowds, the heavy traffic
my world so full of life...
I think about Gaza
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real-hot-grl-shi · 6 months ago
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I hate how people shame me for being hypersexual. I hate how people shame me for being honest about my feelings. I hate how people laugh in my face when I try to explain them. I hate how people hate me just because im like this. I hate how my actions always come first before I think. I hate how sexual I can be at the smallest things.
I hate how draining it can be just to hold myself back to not say anything. I hate how people go and "support" me for what im going through just to turn their backs on me when they see the hard truth. I hate having to change how I act around people just for them to like me. I hate how draining it is just to go a day without putting my hands on my body. I hate how hard it is to keep composure and not let my thoughts spill.
I hate how I look in the mirror and know that im at the end of the day im a sexual slut with 0 control over my body. I hate being hypersexual.
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shakaprio · 9 months ago
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i’ve been sleeping so much and so little that i do not know when a new day begins and ones ends. the only time i can be sure is when i’m alone on early morning walks that only contain fuzzy memories of blurred dreams. i feel my mortality.
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nothanksjohnny · 6 months ago
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I dreamed of you again
Would you have dreamed of me..
The sky felt warm again Both of you right by my side
I can't remember the commands
I said All I remember is wanting to cry But I didn't. I have a title damn you.
You've left me to the sky alone
His wraith makes my frame ache. You'd be the only to know
Sometimes he remembers you to. He tells me to leave when he does
I thought I heard you
It was so clear
But then I opened my optics and you were no were near
I'm worse than I was Can you believe it?
I'm sure you can Fraggers the both of you
If my pride wasn't so drowning Maybe I'd join you
I'd like to say I fight for you both But you'd just laugh at my face and drag me down to hall
They're empty now. Cold and quite
I'm cold. Although I've yet to quite
I'd say I miss you
But to miss is to wish you were here
I'd never want you to see me again
I'd betray you to
I did
And I'd do it again
So I'll just dream till Megatron grows sick of my spark
I'll dream of flying with you both
I'll dream that you'd still want to see me
I'll dream with my optics open saying I'm fine
I'll dream forever until I hear you both again
Goodnight
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thesadlesbian120 · 1 year ago
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my roman empire?
Laika, that little space dog.
beautiful girl,
touch the nebulas’ and staurn’s rings for me, and may the stars and the moon provide you comfort and light that the human race never could.
sleep well beloved Laika
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cult-of-the-eye · 1 year ago
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Can I stand in the doorway of the bathroom, watching you brush your teeth, haloed by the warm light above you, blocking the darkness from the hallway behind me? Can I lean my head against the wall, knowing all is well in that singular moment? Can you grin at me with rows of tiny crooked teeth, toothpaste smeared over your chin? Can I love you, forever, even if things change?
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axarmae · 4 months ago
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Names are such foolish things
why must I be referred to by what I want
by anyone, I care an ounce about
but the accursed overbearing corporate shithouse
that reigns supreme gets pissy
about such a foolish thing as a name.
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icedcoffeeandcreatine · 8 months ago
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I often gazed wistfully at the stars and begged them to turn the hands of time, making me older, wiser, more grown up. Now I scream at them, throw things and cry like the little girl I used to be, and plead with them to take me back to those days.
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muchadoaboutsofie · 3 months ago
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anyone ever feel like you're the one caring more in the friendship/s? get overly anxious whenever people don't say goodbye before leaving a place, scared you don't inquire about their lives enough, just caring for so many people. putting so much effort wondering about people when they leave. I don't know. maybe it's just my anxiety. or emotional neediness. I just need to be told everyone cares back. because I hate that I care too much. I like to think I'm a lone wolf but I'm really not. I need other people. I need people to care for. to care about. and I hate thinking that I'm not cared for. because I can't love myself the way I love everyone else.
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captainwaffles · 2 years ago
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We are all just little animals
We waddle on the ice so we don’t fall
we snuggle in for warmth when it gets cold
Just little animals
In this world together
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tumlbr-trasher · 11 days ago
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In another universe,
I am reaching my potential, challenging myself and growing- and I'm not tired of it.
My father loves me like his daughter and doesn't shy away from showing it to me every now and then.
My mother and I not just have heartfelt convos, but also intellectual conversations.
My grandmothers have overcame their pasts and live peacefully.
And in another universe,
I am not ashamed of myself.
And if me in that universe is getting all of this,
Then I'll happily live my reality in this one
To that universe🥂
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fancyisunwell · 1 month ago
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TW: Su1c1d3 mentioned, ig. Vent post, ewww...
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This was literally us but NOOOO hes just HAD to sh**t himself
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Damn not like he woulda given the best hugs or anything. wasted chance.
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I didn't care, you knew that. I loved it, the extra meat. The extra skin. The extra you, more for me. You weren't ugly, you were never ugly. You, slim or chub. I would've held you regardless. I would've loved feeling small under you in eachother's arms until morning Why, my love.. You were beautiful. Regardless if the rest of the earth thought you were hideous. You were my beautiful. Regardless. <3
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i-give-u--art · 8 months ago
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Dear God,
I only kissed that girl for shits and giggles
I only lightly stabbed that guy from the 7-eleven
I only hate others when they hate me first
I only want to snuggle never fuck
I only want to go to heaven because that's were my dogs are
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interviewwithademon · 1 year ago
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Loss, and Everything that Comes with: A Short Vignette
TMC squad, how're we doing tonight
I am doing Not Well and neither is Adam so I wrote a lil poem in the second person, please enjoy
Loss follows you everywhere you go. 
 Your life is a series of dances, stumbling around the unavoidable chasm in your heart that tells you everyone you love will leave, a gaping maw of fear that only grows with each passing day.
You’re a child when it begins- when long arms gather you to a cold, unmoving chest in the dead of night, Mama’s scream echoing off tile as you’re whisked away from your entire world.
You come back wrong, different; the world feels muted where it once was vibrant, and Mama is no longer there to coax the warmth from the hearth so the house grows frost. Dad rarely talks on the days he bothers to be home; you learn quickly how to tie your own shoes and sign your own report cards, and then one day he vanishes too.
You’re sixteen years old and an orphan, abandoned to an overloaded system that struggles to stay afloat so when you slip away at midnight there is no one left to chase after you, no one to care what happens to the sad boy with the big blue eyes. You stumble back home, managing to find your way up stairs that threaten to cave in and curl up in the spot that Mama’s bed once rested. 
You make friends classmates who look at you with the same concern that the foster families once did, eyes a mix of worry and pity that makes your stomach churn uncomfortably so you drift away from them too. It’s for their own good, you tell yourself as the shadows of everyone you’ve driven off merge into one ominously looming figure in your mind. I’m cursed.
Maybe it’s true: one sticks around, determined to make you smile, forever ready with a joke and a kind gaze that doesn’t pity you but sees you instead; you tell him about your club and he matches your passion with a zest of his own, and when he pulls out a camcorder to document your adventures you can’t help but give him the grin he works ceaselessly to achieve. 
You feel like a moth to flame; like his easy camaraderie has chipped away at the ice block surrounding your core, hope returning like pins and needles to a sleeping limb. For once, you think of a brighter future: one of maturity, of taking the job at the local videography store and falling into rhythm that slowly echoes your own heartbeat. 
You’re wrong, of course, you always are; permanence and you mix like oil and water, your heavy weight of guilt dragging you into the murky depths as your friend looks down in disappointment. He pleads with his eyes for you to swim but you never learned how so instead you sink, plummeting deeper and deeper until the waves feel foreign yet familiar, a flickering screen replaying memories you wished had remained buried. 
As quickly as he’d come, he’s gone once more. Where you’d once had a shield of frost to protect your delicate heart there instead exists only the wound, exposed and raw to all the guilt that hits you (it’s not the same, you refuse to let yourself feel victimized; how much emotional pain could equate to the wreckage of His car, His life, Your Friend-). You sink to your knees in the kitchen, the same coating of rime that’s mirrored in the shell you once called a heart. 
You’re alone once more, or maybe you always were; the reflection in the tile isn’t one you recognize anymore, skin sagging in a horrifically inhumane way and even you have left you behind; your identity has slipped away like the hoodie that lays discarded on the floor, across from an obituary for a short boy with warm eyes that forever haunt you when you close your own. 
It sits in its own misery, staring at the picture of its dead best friend for an indeterminable amount of time; there’s no one left to chase after it anymore, after all, and it’s lost inside the slowly spiraling mind of a monster. 
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trollarcany · 2 years ago
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i don't know why i don't want children
is it because i fear they'll be too much like me, or is it because i'm scared i'll be too much like you
or is it that they would be how you were growing up, and i wouldn't know
because how can you look past the damage and destruction and see a child instead of a parent?
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justanothershitbagcivilian · 7 months ago
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Are you INTERESTING?
Do you have VALUE?
We know you’re barely surviving, but
WHAT CAN YOU OFFER US?
Flesh and bones? A mind? A human experience?
NOT ENOUGH!
THIS IS A RACE AND YOU ARE LOSING
TO EVERY ONE OF US.
WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?
WE DON’T LIKE IT.
YOU ARE NOT ENOUGH FOR US.
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