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poem [wip maybe]

deacon
-
thorns cut into my wrists .
the roses no longer visible , though i can smell them .
i can smell the roses , my saint , hes here .
ive quoted the prayer but never asked what it meant .
my priest never wanted to save me , i was a sacrifice .
sorrel eyes glare at me , still as beautiful as always .
the thorns cut into my neck , i wince and beg .
"this is what you were born for , my love"
he loves me , the priest .
he holds on to my hand and he praises me .
he tells me ive done so well and that now , ill help everyone find Him .
he never loved me , the priest .
im just a deacon , an offering to Him .
i was always a varlet , but he'll forever be my saint .
my perfect martyr , my saviour .

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  • > Bacon Brilliance sick

  • > ⭐ cult loser ⭐ I think I've been writing before kindergarten cause I was a very lonely child lol

  • > Bacon Brilliance ive been writing sonce i was like 9

  • YOU WRITE POETRY TOO!? THAT"S OS AWOMES, I LOVE WRITING POETRY TOO

h left a comment!

poem [wip maybe]

deacon
-
thorns cut into my wrists .
the roses no longer visible , though i can smell them .
i can smell the roses , my saint , hes here .
ive quoted the prayer but never asked what it meant .
my priest never wanted to save me , i was a sacrifice .
sorrel eyes glare at me , still as beautiful as always .
the thorns cut into my neck , i wince and beg .
"this is what you were born for , my love"
he loves me , the priest .
he holds on to my hand and he praises me .
he tells me ive done so well and that now , ill help everyone find Him .
he never loved me , the priest .
im just a deacon , an offering to Him .
i was always a varlet , but he'll forever be my saint .
my perfect martyr , my saviour .

Read more

  • > Bacon Brilliance sick

  • > ⭐ cult loser ⭐ I think I've been writing before kindergarten cause I was a very lonely child lol

  • > Bacon Brilliance ive been writing sonce i was like 9

  • YOU WRITE POETRY TOO!? THAT"S OS AWOMES, I LOVE WRITING POETRY TOO

poem [wip maybe]

deacon
-
thorns cut into my wrists .
the roses no longer visible , though i can smell them .
i can smell the roses , my saint , hes here .
ive quoted the prayer but never asked what it meant .
my priest never wanted to save me , i was a sacrifice .
sorrel eyes glare at me , still as beautiful as always .
the thorns cut into my neck , i wince and beg .
"this is what you were born for , my love"
he loves me , the priest .
he holds on to my hand and he praises me .
he tells me ive done so well and that now , ill help everyone find Him .
he never loved me , the priest .
im just a deacon , an offering to Him .
i was always a varlet , but he'll forever be my saint .
my perfect martyr , my saviour .

Read more

  • > Bacon Brilliance sick

  • > ⭐ cult loser ⭐ I think I've been writing before kindergarten cause I was a very lonely child lol

  • > Bacon Brilliance ive been writing sonce i was like 9

  • YOU WRITE POETRY TOO!? THAT"S OS AWOMES, I LOVE WRITING POETRY TOO

h left a comment!

just a ventity-vent-vent
i'll feel better eventually







body image problems coming to attack me againnnn~~
like bruh i'm trying so hard
exercising almost every day, stretching, plus the sports i do, ect ect
but nothing's working, i still look like a... fat thing
my face looks too chubby, and so does my body
like why is my body so... wide ? and chunky ? why am i STILL FAT after so long of exercising regularly ?
i get many compliments from people (my mum says that people come up to her and say that my performances in my sports look great, and i'm this, and i'm that), but.... i literally dont know why or how but i just can't agree
i still end up crying, and feeling insecure and ugly around everyone else
like why is my stupid brain so mean to me XD--
i know that i just need to stop being so hard on myself, think more positively, accept who i am, stop getting so upset of not doing everything i need to do that day, ect ect
but... it almost feels like i dont do any of those things because i hate myself too much, and that i don't quite... deserve those things
or maybe because i let out my frustration, sadness, and emotional pain on being mean to my body and mind, therefore i've built up a habit of that or something
so now i'm... stuck. cuz if i can't practice my self love and stuff, how am i going to ever improve ?
i'm just...

so jealous of other people and disappointed in myself.
=(

anywayyss have a nice day/night/avo, you didn't have to read this yknow

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jesus leigh another ?

that gross bean smell
-
i twist and twist , the can opener is something i never learnt how to use .
finally , the can is open .
my hand slips , i cut my palm on the sharp edge of the can , the beans spill out aross the floor .
the beans dont stop spilling out of the can .
its overwhelming , it just wont stop .
the juices flood the clean , white tiles .
my socks have been soaked , why wont the beans stop ?
eventually the beans fill the room , suffocating me .
ive always fucking hated beans .

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FUCK ANOTHER ONE

wear me out
-
something sweet , as promised .
something small , as desired .
lick the chocolate off as you wish .
swirl your tongue around the lollipop .
keep eye contact with me .
connect our lips , our pink tongues touch .
it feels like popping candy inside your mouth [ electric ] .
i can taste the sweetness on your lips , perfect , candy stained .
fingers lightly touch my waist , travel up to my chest .
it feels , oh , so sweet .
my red gummy heart swells , i hope you feel the same .
sweet , just how he likes it .

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WHAT !? ANOTHER POEM !?!?

flowers
-
i choke on the scent .
the smell of roses taking over my lungs .
the petals of sunflowers brushing against my skin .
the beauty of the flowers keep me distracted .
the vines grab onto our limbs and pull us together .
the thorns cut at our thighs , our wrist .
the scent is overwhelming , roses , sunflowers , tulips .
the colours keep us in a trance .
the vines cover our bodies , keeping us warm .
it gets dark , hard to breathe .
the last thing i think of is the flowers , not the vines , not ur cold , limp , lifeless body .

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ANOTHER poem abt him

confesser
-
seaweed , rough against my skin .
seaweed , pinning me down , keeping me from moving .
slowly traveling up my arms and legs .
i hear my sirens song , hes here .
i feel his hand on my cheek , i look over to him .
he smiles , perfect like a sweet poison .
ive always listened to the song but never the lyrics .
my siren never loved me , hes a curse .
his eyes , his song , his warm hand on my cheek .
the seaweed travels further up my body , scratching my skin .
the seaweed has a grip on my neck now , squeezing .
seaweed covers my eyes and pours into my mouth , down my throat .
i was never his sailor but he'll always be my siren .
my perfect curse , my siren .

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ignore this








so ur upset with me for not letting u call me baby while we were dating
but now that we're not dating someone else [MY FUCKING FRIEND] calls me baby
U FUCKING BROKE UP WITH ME
AND UR UPSET THAT U FUCKING WERENT ALLOWED TO CALL ME BABY !?
i dont fucking care if u call me baby i actually would prefer for my friend to NOT call me baby bc he just makes me uncomfortable
fuck ur so fucking insufferable
if ur upset that we're not dating just fucking ask me out u stupid fucking cunt IM GONNA SAY YES like fuck cunt i hate u sometimes BUT I STILL WANNA BE UR BF

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