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February angelShow poetry

23rd February

I turned 21 years old today and as I was listening to a favorite song,recreating in my mind bits of fabricated dreams I promised myself that I'd stop sharing my poetry.

I'm going back at the time when everything started,back at the primal stage,where there were no misconceptions,no desires or mute feelings.Just a sense of freedom,existing in its silence ,molded in my being.

Existence is what I want it to be.A vast concept of misconception,lost in stains of  nix.Existence is a tragicomedy,trying to decode itself.

To you I'm just a virtual conception.To myself I'm simply me.
To you I was an ignorant.You smashed and broke the feelings blooming in.My corpse is just a wanderer of existence,imperfect ,sacrilegious as it is.

It hurts me so much to hear you say that.As much as it hurts to stay.I'm not a shadow of yesterday and I do not want to be treated that way.It seems that I'm not as good as them,yet you hold on me and want me to stay.

I'm going away.I'm free.Distance helps those who can not think.

Feb

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    • on untitled by , on February 23
      Thanks for reading

    • on Rust. by Twila-, on February 21
      I liked your poem.It had some powerful lines and looking at your picture made it easier to imagine.I don't like the part when you say you're sorry and I'll miss you.Other then that the poem worked well.