justkiddiing

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Joined: September 27, 2010
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user id: 126598
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Quotes by justkiddiing

When I was 18
a guy of 23 told me that
I couldn't know misery yet
when I reached his age I'd know 
why you drink to forget
He drunkenly held on to his pina colada
and I got mad
A friend told me that it's true
that you change a lot in those years
as I would have hoped because 
it would be sad to stay stagnant
but I didn't count on this

When I got 19 I've slept in some
unfriendly bedrooms of unfriendly men
I ran of abroad and told a boy
that I'm the youngest girl alive 
in my head, cause I was
he thought that was weird
because he always felt old
and he held me trying to sip up
my youth

I was on a plane with a man
who told me my loud voice could indicate
that I was uncertain about myself
I said no, that's not an option, I just like
being heard and don't worry,
you didn't put me in a identity crisis
because I'm only 20 and it's a state of mind

keep on embracing that feeling
and now I'm 21, I still lie in bed with boys
who I won't marry with but who think
that I am beautiful and I think I am
beautiful
And I'm still not clinging to pina colada's
but I have two more years to catch a trauma
that makes me so bitter that I stop trying
and colour black insides
with sweet liquor
but until then, I'm drinking
for nights to remember
instead of forget
I do not remember all of what happened
I see the bruizes , the marks that come
and go and sometimes stay
on my skin
I do not remember where they came from
the accidents, the pain, the glow
all of it is lost on me
so I torture my memory
look for the years that have worn me down
in this state of constant obivion 
to the suffering I have endured
is it possible to become soft again
covered in this hard skin?
if day old scabs remind
you of years old trauma
is it possible to start over
when your skin refuses to forget
what your brain refuses to remmeber


Social media tells me
that there has to be a lot going on
while still standing still
constantly moving forward
and documenting that
while drinking thee and doing yoga

But I'm still writing poems
with the soul purpose of getting laid
and while my fitness progresses
so does my waistline because
I started feasting where I used to starve.
there's a lot of loud going on in my life
that I wish stayed quiet, 
wispered only to me

I should be the queen of this technology
but I feel more like a servant
so I log out and check into my brain
it's still there
and that should be enough
no hashtag encompasses this passion
no picture captures this disire
and that should be enough
There is a kingdom in me,
and sometimes it is burning.
Sometimes, I let it.
I promise never to hide this from you.
That is my vow.
I promise to be an open mouth.
I promise to stay fractured.
I promise to be imperfect.
I promise to be the bravest .
broken window you’ve ever seen
I used to have hands in my hair
from dispair
and it was soothing
my calm in my storm

and it stayed the dispair
so did my hair
but I've lost your hands
let the storm rage on

I tried to fix it
got myself a robot
reminding me of btter times
and nothing like you

as he pierces my skull
blood flowing
soothing
I am sick of nuancing other peope's mistakes
I don't care they had a bad day
I don't feel like standing above the flames of frustration
I let it consume me, from ashes to ashes

there is no place here for external reflection
The blazing arrows pointed at angry eyes looking at me
soon to target everybody who's even closeà
my rage undiscriminating, from dust to dust

My anger powers the phoenix in me to rise
the fire, consuming everything, has left me alone
just like me, nobody coated themselves in compassion
just like me they let the inferno roar


This crazy is

An ex lover,
A neglectful parent,
A small screaming child
A little girl with nowhere to go
A dissease
An illness, 
A condition of the mind, 
A mindset, 
A flaw of carracter
A cage I never tried to escape
A shadow over all the rest,
A blanket to cover up the fear
A murder with no body
A smell of rotten silence
A place I left years ago, 
A past I forgot to forget, 
A meal eaten alone
A dinner served cold
A sick society,
A sick calling from God,
A brilliant novel, 
A poem
I've read so much
I have read too much

they have written me a dessert
they have written me an ocean
but even when I'm standing in that mud
somebody will write me a city or a forrest
I can never be in one place anymore
because I have read too much

told me love would sweep me of my feet
and carry me trough any situation
told me love would leave
told me love doesn't exist
every person I meet is a persona
I can't see faces anymore
because I have read too much


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