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 Jan 9 Vesper
Thirty Nine
He was a sculptor
She was his inspiration
Never a Human
Always his muse

So when she died
He tried to resurrect his muse
With clay

He couldn't sculpt her face
He couldn't remember
He had lost his muse
 Jan 8 Vesper
Nobody
hey everyone!! i would like to make it stated that i am not supposed to be writing this, yet here i am. i am currently in residential treatment. i am not going to go into details because there are some things i would rather to keep private. i have my school computer so i am able to write this, but i am technically breaking the rules because they haven't approved this website yet. that is why i havent been posting. i am still writing poetry though, so when i get out (which might be in a month, 2 or 3) i will post them all  :) thank you all for your support so far and i will be back :D
 Jan 6 Vesper
lizie
it’s snowing,
but not enough to cover the ground,
not enough to stick.

just like me—
falling, trying to matter,
but never enough.
 Jan 6 Vesper
lizie
it’s snowing,
but not enough to cover the ground,
not enough to stick.

just like me—
falling, trying to matter,
but never enough.
 Jan 6 Vesper
Thirty Nine
So I looked at you with confusion
The theater curtains were down
The lights were off
No one is in the audience
Empty Seats
So why do you keep acting?
 Jan 6 Vesper
Thirty Nine
Your flowers died last Monday
But I couldn't bear to throw them out
Sad and Looking down
Just like me
Wilted, Rotting and Brown
Just like you
 Dec 2024 Vesper
Liana
Nothing is ugly
Like nothing is beautiful

These are mere ideas
Just concepts really
Opinions

So when we could easily be
A beautiful concept
We choose to use the word
"Ugly"

Both are wrong
Both are right

You decide
Which one you call yourself
In the mirror tonight
Just today I heard a girl looking in the mirror in the bathroom and calling herself ugly and a few minutes later girls called her pretty. She didn't know. And honestly, both are wrong, and both are right.

(This note was written by a special grain of sand)
 Dec 2024 Vesper
Thirty Nine
"All parents are like this"
You said annoyed at your child's 'sensitivity'
Then wonder why your child wont become a mother or father
They won't risk becoming the thing they fear
 Dec 2024 Vesper
Nat Lipstadt
“We could never see tomorrow
No one said a word about the sorrow
The Bee Gees

a simple rhyme, a plaint familiar,
for those who have never stared
down train tracks, which is a lesson
in recognizing
the uncertainties of
living,
even if linearly visualized,
t h e o r e t i c a l l y

can veer to destinations unknown,
worthy of being dreaded, thinking
what are the odds today is the last,
and maybe now and then, not just
dismissing,them so easily

but it always brings on pain old
and familiar, recollecting of the
way life never asks you first, the

swiftness of two life lines colliding
with the
s u d d e n e s s
unfathomable
of 2 locomotives crashing,
head on
and leaving behind
a desolation breathtaking

it is a well lit winter morning,
cold light, but the direct sun
leaves a general okayness,
and you trudge along,
head bent, respecting the chilling,
calculating the distance to
the warmth of a planned
destination,
but here I remind
all of us:

”No one said a word
about the sorrow

Dec ‘24
i have to be

smaller

skipping

breakfast

lunch

dinner

eating

never

i­ weigh myself

constantly

can't

the hunger

a beast

i cannot

give in

i must be strong

but then why

the less

i eat

the weaker

i

feel?
if you couldn't tell, im not ok
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