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Andrew 4d
I wore apathy like armor
but cracked every time you looked at me
like I was worth being seen.

Even now I blamed timing.
As if clocks are crueler than my own hesitation.
As if love didn’t stand right in front of me
and wait with open hands
as mine stayed tucked in pockets.

I convinced myself I was unworthy
before anyone else had the chance to.
I set fire to every almost
just to say “see, it was never going to last”
like that made it less my fault.

Still, I write this like it matters—
like this confession changes anything.
But all it does
is remind me
that I had everything
and still chose nothing.
Just a short venting poem about my personal frustration with how I handle things.
AC 6d
you, serendipity
i didn't expect you
but you're the best birthday gift i've received all year
and mind you, my birthday's a long time from now.

i didn't know you've waited
since middle school, for this to all work out
but i'm glad you did
so glad you did

we officially met...maybe a week ago when you confessed
so then why do you make me feel like the one having the crush?
so many things i won't understand
but so many things i hope we'll figure out together, levi.
With Levi, the Roseanne Reid song, stuck in my head...I write.
ab ja na Apr 18
there was never enough paper
never enough books
the pens contained me
the key clicks asked to trace back too much
the paint had its own stories too
the dance was too visceral
the film was incoherent
and so i lived and died into them all
the masterful rebellion

and then your skin, when it was my paper
my canvas, my strings, my music
every flinch and gasp and breath was like art complete
dead love feels like dead skin,
it kind of feels nice to peel off
especially into poetry
Bluebird Apr 18
You smell like summer
You taste like moon
Till my eyes opened
It's almost june

You hunt like runner
You run like rust
Till my skin
Turns to dust

So call me drunk
Three am
I will pick up
What a Shame
Then I'll cry
Whom to blame?

I lost my way
As ocean stray
May locate stars
But as it rains
All my metaphors
Slips away
Whom to blame?
More chapters coming
I hope you get that
ab ja na Apr 18
some days i mourn the death of stars,
some days i forget to mourn the dreams i massacred
both days i tell you nothing about it

somedays i mourn the death of stars,
some days i forget to mourn the dreams i massacred

both days i know i can tell no one anything about it
and i didn’t, but it seems like the end

so what if i erupted out all my infections.
i don't know, if i could delete myself, man how many times would i have done it already
Honey never agreed with me
but the bees have never stung
as I brought my white van up
They would circulate me,
but they had this instinct,
of how they knew me.

I wish they stung me to death,
before I hurt the one of twelve,
and of Kate and others several,
in this two stanza brevity.
I deserve and wish for death,
before I can inhale another breath.

Those bees,
if I kicked the nest,
I'll be stung to red.

I was comfortable,
around their buzzing.
What can be worse,
trying to,
**** some-thing,
beautiful.
That thing,
is a conscious
of another
being.
I know
I mean nothing
as the fan,
blows me to
some-where.

Trouble is it
always gets me
and in the lifts
as wind shifts,
will always speak,

Angels are
humbling
and left are
just 4 words,
the hidden,
and arrested.
ab ja na Apr 17
riffed on and on
about these implosions that is the world inside of me
pretty words and raw sketches did not get it any lovers
lovers that only knew to love
and everything else felt so vacuous
so lacklustre

dissect me, let me be your science and god- i plead again
but i thought i am not reaching you because my words were not adept
so i made it better and i was all the more unreachable
until maybe i thought that was fine,
i will be unreachable, sad but well

will you reduce me, let me be an atom that intrigues you endlessly

so i plea
so i plea
shamelessly
i will make you coffees and teas and potions unheard of
i will let you cut into flesh of my dreams,
we will make love in a cobweb of intricately beautiful poetic delusions
but i am tired too
the tired weary man also writes love letters
ab ja na Apr 17
i wanted the world within you
i wanted the world through you
just through you
even if everything
everywhere else was as exquisite as it can be
even if it was all but dark and hollow within you

there is waves inside of me
ready to take you into my oblivious depth
with such voracious passion
i am afraid of it but i am also in love with it
because i am it
and i just wait for you
who is the all consuming dying star
that can devour all of my oceans and skies and apocalypses

will you go to war with me to love me more than i love you
before you **** love, nurture it, spoil it, spill its guts out
ab ja na Apr 17
stifled, i feel
because i am a storm you would forget
the wreckage i leave isn't to your taste
i was not wishing you couldn't withstand me
that was never why i came on too strong
i just wanted to sway with you in the tides
i wanted to savor you in the highs and lows
i just wanted to be your personal storm
just that although i get it, who wants a storm
but i am a storm nonetheless
and no one likes a storm that stays
when it does you find a new home
you tell the world it wrecked you
about storms, within us, without us and the ones that left us, the ones we left and the ones we invaded
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