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Tag: blues
Poem: Paranoid and proud (10,000 times)
Paranoid and proud (10,000)
Enigmatic, or desolate
I knock on your door slowly
Trembling
I don’t want to interrupt your work
You tell me to crawl over to the desk
I said babe, I’ve got a headache
My hair is a mess
I can’t pass your tests
I’m stupid and paranoid
None of your answers make sense
Where were you last Tuesday
Who was that in the car
You reach for another cigar
You’re the most beautiful boy but your personality is tar
You’re mean about my scars
A variation of you and me (but it’s just a fantasy)
The white roses have died
Is it me or my pride
That I always remind you of how my favorite man died
I know I’m a burden, I scream on the inside
Walking on eggshells
Tiny glass fragments
When you threw the vase at the wall because you couldn’t find your glasses
The white roses, they’ve died anyway
Entered a state of decay
Quite like I have, and it’s how I will stay
The light has left me, what do you make of my remains
I’m more revolting every day
Chaos and butterflies
Surprise me with flowers
Plant a tree every time you yawn when I talk about my interests
If this isn’t love or lust then what is this
Why do I sit on your lap every time you come around
How come I put my face to a pillow so that I don’t make a sound
How come you told me that the next time I get lost you hope I won’t ever be found
Like pitch black surround sound
I turn to the other side
I do my best to hide
Is that another exhibition of my pride?
You told me you loved to listen
You lied
Ten thousand times
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Instragram: @Lilacdovee
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Poem: 3 missed calls
I want to fall in love
Would you rather keep all the memories you have up until now?
Or start all over again
I ask you while we’re walking alongside the fog, the mountains
The sea on the other side
Would you want to live this life over?
I pick at a four-leaf clover
Come over for dinner, and let’s go out for dessert
I want to fall in love
But I don’t want it to hurt
I dig through the dirt
The sea on the other side
But I don’t want it to hurt
I feel lost and alone
Statements I never thought I’d share
I’ve shed enough of my personality to the point where I’m rebuilding it
Look at me in this black dress, how’s the fit of it?
I have panic attacks, I can’t manage it
But I do
I do
Sunday evening, watching the news
Holding the baby
You come in, new vinyl in, midtown Blues
Just thinking, I think I found a clue
About what you’re about to do
You feed off opportunity, I’ll catch up to you
Going 120 miles per hour, I need the sky to go from blue to grey
I can’t stand up straight when things don’t go my way
I fall into the warm bath
Slip under, wet my long hair
Blue and blues and blue again
Turn me into someone I’m not
Tell me it’s my phone number you’ve forgot
My voicemail at the end of your beat on SoundCloud
Think you can bring a tough crowd?
You, and your life — are you proud?
It’s 500 Fahrenheit
Am I shouting too loud?
Too distracted trying to deal, barely making a sound
In a daze- it’s a familiar haze
I slip and fall into the bath
Wash my hair, scrub my porcelain face
Trying not to have a third panic attack
The dial kept going, you said you’d call right back
I’m a masterpiece in God’s eyes
I’m a drug in them guys’ eyes
But when I look at myself
(And I’m screaming and shouting)
And I pull my hair out
(And I’m screaming and shouting)
And the fog rolls in
(And I’m screaming and –
3 missed calls
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Poem: Wisconsin blues
I’ll be next to you
Wisconsin blues
I’m sitting right next to you
To be creative, you need to be able to respond to pain.
I read the news as I wait for the train
CTA baby, ask me out I’ll say maybe
I’m in need of something refreshing
Something to soothe me
Coax me out of this identity
Let me relive the past but only the brilliance of it
Please don’t send me back there
Not the facility
I can’t give up my tranquility
That appears only when the atmosphere fades to black
My insecurities are under attack
Hold on babe someone’s on the other line, wait for me, I’ll be right back
Since the dawn of time
I can’t even remember that far ago
I like it in Wisconsin when I look out the window at the mounds of snow
I give you a kiss on the shoulder and you don’t have to say you love me, I just know
You did it again
You made my day
Took the somber right out of me
Molded me like clay
I think I’m going to be okay
I think I’m going to be okay
I think I’m going to be okay
I think I’m going to be okay
I think I’m going to be okay
On another day
Poem: 1933-1945
We would like you to enlist in our services.
For some people, war is war. For others – dear mother. Russian Proverb
The painting of slogans on buildings
Young people were attracted to a group that offered adventure
Distinctive military appearances
Who achieved more?
We were all keeping score
The unquestioned leader
Officers and politicians
Ugh, so nationalistic
My brother, he had
A stern political career
Damaged
In the postwar years
He blamed his associates
Secret meetings
Apocalyptic trains
That would combust all of a sudden
Confidential minutes of a downhill argument
When you’re Russian they think you’re very clever
All a hoax
From the flood, a new world will be born
Signs and wonders are seen
From the unruly flood
Come Holy Spirit creator
Salvation is to befall
Ukraine
Liberation of humanity
Whine about wretched nest eggs
His lack of success
No chance of survival
Less-than-mediocre poet
He died just like that
Nobody cried about it