Posts
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What I want
I wasn’t
Sure.
Not one hundred percent.
I knew I wanted it
But I wasn’t prepared last time
We weren’t ready last time
I’m surprised I was ready this time.
But I was -
We were.
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Hindsight is 20/20
I am here to say this
in only facts
because I don't rely on feelings.
Fact:
Your Mr. Remarkable is quiet.
Cold.
Closed off.
Didn't interact unless
absolutely necessary
smiled maybe twice.
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Island
I would feel -
relaxed if I were
on an island by myself.
I could forget about
my life
forget about overdue math
and whether I'm behind or not
doing the right thing is always wrong
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Auditions
I like auditioning. I like it because it makes me feel special - I like the anticipation, walking in that room, and just getting to play what you've practiced. It's predictable.
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Deja vu
I've been here before
I know this feeling
the impending sense of
happening.
It's going to happen
it's inevitable
is this a mistake?
I will back off so fast if you tell me you don't want it.
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Remarkable
I don't know you
I want to
but not yet.
I know you are more useful to me as a faraway rival
of extraordinary difficulty
than as a friend right now
I also know I won't have a choice next year.
Loves
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It's Eating Me
I'm right behind you
I'm in your walls
Saying you're ugly,
Fat,
Too tall
I'm everywhere
I'm in your phone
I like to kill
Things I own
I'm your conscience
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Accommodate Until I Break
I started accommodating at 2 years old
First it was just normal stuff
Staying quiet
Being careful
Make sure the baby is happy
I thought it would stop
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Stream of Consciousness (Jasmine)
Your hair is blond like the sun kissed your roots and long cause no one told you you could cut it
My hair is dark like I mixed every paint on my head and buzzed cause I was angry
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sensación de fin de semana / end of the week feeling
(disclaimer: i am not a fluent or native Spanish speaker, obviously. i just enjoy it and am learning it in school so i thought i'd share a short poem i wrote in class.)
jueves
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1/18/26
You sit in the middle of your college cafeteria—top floor—and things become very apparent to you, very quickly.
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Mourning the Memories
Dear love,
The night you slept in my room the first time you were wearing one of your white cotton shirts.