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I think I found Jim Hawkins.

He wasn’t a regular specimen of a boy, he was a rarity and I could feel the sun and stars and everything in between when he looked at me. 

He was nothing but a stranger

Yet somehow his face felt familiar 

There was a song in his eyes 

But I fail to recall the words 

For he's stolen every thought that has ever bothered to exist from my head

It was quite evident that adventure wasn...

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Ooh Child.

 

 

There’s this movie I watched as a child. It's deeply sad and the themes are heavy, but an eight year old with a bag of liquorice wouldn’t be the wiser. After that day in the theater it became my favorite movie. I still watch it from time to time and even as the tears begin to fall something about it makes me feel whole. I think that's because I resonate so deeply with the two main charac...

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Death of a Poet.

No man had ever ignited a flame strong enough to spark my soul. The greatest thing a man has ever done for me was crush my heart- so much so that I couldn't help but write and with such fierce vigor it nearly brought me to death.
He drove me mad and that is where I found real passion.  

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Lions Land.

She thought for a bit
Maybe trees never really could speak and hide in seek was only game not a story to be written
Could it be that all the while it was just in her head
Maybe by happenstance they got lost in the woods and nothing ever happened otherwise.
Was it a fever dream or Perhaps her imagination was far too complex
And without knowing any better she ran wild
Playing along
We'll neve...

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🌷(8)

Homesick

I came back in time to see the apples change color. 
Shades of crimson dripped from such delicious skin, only to be left to dream amongst the branches
Too majestic to eat
I waited for the feeling to return but it was buried so deep I no longer could find it. 
So I poured myself some coffee and forced the pen upon the page
In search for the words once again. 
I ponder here 
Still waiting 
B...

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Pebbles.

I'd write you a poem if only I knew how
The words I need to say gets stuck inside somehow
You haven't much use for poetry
Since you're young and foolish now
But one day
You'll live to remember everything you wish to forget
I remember you small
Full of speed
Knee deep in grass wallowing in your own laughter
I suppose that's all behind us
Since then you've figured out the world isn't so ki...

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23

I remember the days...
Trapped inside despair
I hid within
A blur of grunge aesthetic
The darkness dared to carry me away
My life became a heap of drunken misery
I wasted most nights away with tear soaked remedies in hope that your face would dissipate from memory. 

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Jack Daniel's.

In moments of desperation I consider him
It's not at all that I want him
Not really anyway
And it's not that I don't
He's a fascinating shade I've never seen before, like honey
I think maybe it's that I'm completely irrational and I crave someone
Someone who would be enamored by all I have to say
And he is entirely enamored
That's only half the problem
You see
Without words I render myse...

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A taste of irony

I drank from your lips and tasted your soul
A delicacy that must be savored
Tension crawls through the sheets the way oxygen builds in my lungs
And with each breath I wished I’d die, because every second without you is a waste.

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May 1st- (Another song reference.)

She cried to a song that lived in her soul
There's a thousand way to sing it, but none of them seem to fit
Love made a mockery of her fragile heart
Yet somehow she survives
Was it the sacred words she rehearsed so long ago that caressed the ache upon every scar-
Or something more?
She'd never tell
Instead she turned her face to the wind and smiled something hopeful.
"Hold on till May." 

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Wild Woman (22.)

In her garden she wasn't alone
The wind was her compass and the dirt was her soul
Birds sang
Trees wept
All that surrounded her made her feel at home.


-Happy Earth Day! 🌱

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"I'll take coffee and a shot of cynicism."

I'm alive when the strong smell of coffee welcomes my senses.
It is enough to bring me to me feet and forget my slumber
Such a bitter aftertaste washes my tongue
Through sleepy eyes and clouded thoughts, it is the most wonderful thing to behold.
True love is cream and sugar swirling in a mug
I'm not Lorelai Gilmore but I do declare myself an addict of piping hot caffeine. 

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Alter Ego

My hands are not my own
When I stare down at them it is not my flesh that bleeds.
It is the skin of someone different entirely.
I've become an alter ego of sorts, wrestling with my anger until provoked by a whisper. This identity I carry is far beyond my control.

If I were to rid myself of it then I'd find myself all alone. 

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Ceramic.

I want to crack
I want the sadness that so desperately clings to my soul to seep through and dissipate.
That is the only way I'll survive; by breaking. 

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Deep.

I’m falling ever so slowly my heartbeat dissipates with every passing second

Every thought is about him 

Every breath is wasted if he’s not around 

His words leave me thirsty, begging for pointless rambling so that my soul may be quenched. 

What a feeling it is to be alive

Is this what the beginning of love is like?

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Insomniac

I'm dead

My bones rusted long ago

I'm not ashamed of what I've done

Just who I am 

I've become a nightmare

Screaming in my sleep 

Doesn't anyone hear me anymore? 

Am I so insignificant?

or am I just alone? 

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harsh reality

After a while I saw myself and how miserable I’d become. 

I didn’t like it, I didn’t like the discomfort it brought me or the inner conflict that always seemed to scream. 

But that is my world. 

What a harsh reality. 

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Barren.

I stared long and hard at the tea stained mug in front of me
Remembering my age whilst pondering untouched thoughts
New life
The idea overwhelms me but not entirely so that I'm repulsed.
I've never considered myself a maternal being, I'm hardly the type.
My soul feels otherwise, she craves the journey, she longs to nurture. I carry so much love only for it all to go to waste.
I'm young but g...

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