This is the other version I made:)

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@poemsofsarah
This is the other version I made:)
Pretend you are not bitter. Pretend that everything is fine. You are fine. Buy your own damn candy, flowers, hugs. Take care of your own damn self. Pretend the blankets are a person. Pretend you are a person. Person in love. Person better then you actually are. Pretend you love yourself. You are not bitter. It is a day like any other.
Write about love.
How you never really thought about marriage.
Played a version of The Bachelor with Barbie but they ended up killing Prince Charming.
How you haven’t ever really had a boyfriend.
How February and its constant reminders of love only seem to exist to remind you of all that you lack.
A hand full of kisses.
Not much more.
Maybe people can see the insult of dyke written across your forehead or psyche.
I’ll be dead long before the grave takes me.
(via cataclysms-womb)
i’m not against vaping, but man, vaping two inches from my face on the subway is a ridiculous asshole kind of move. this dude was billowing like he was auditioning for the role of haunted house fog machine. the humidity in the whole car changed, he was ruining haircuts. just jump starting the water cycle. condensation was dripping down my glasses. people were slipping off poles, it was chaos. it was like watching one man try to terraform the moon. a planet with one dense, root beer scented atmosphere blocking out the sun and choking all life.
i consider this a sort of prose poem to be honest
Days
Some days I am perfect. Not a flaw even in those that could be. Some days I am broken. Every bit wrong even in those that aren’t. Some days I fail to even exist.
It All Began When..
I suppose it began
when we first met.
The sun was shining-
At least, it probably was
behind all those clouds.
I really couldn’t tell
with the rain pouring down
getting in my eyes-
I mean, my hair.
That was falling over my eyes
as it does when wet.
It was pretty cold as well-
Well, not really, just windy.
The wind was like
a whip against my skin
blowing everything around
as winds does, you know.
Branches, leaves, dust..
Thoughts, questions, feelings-
Nothing unusual.
I remember squinting
against the sharp rays..
Oh, but it was raining wasn’t it?
Sorry, I meant the rain.
Or- I mean the wind. I think.
I don’t know, it’s all been a jumble.
I can’t make sense
of my words anymore
(Or do I mean my thoughts?)
with all these strikes through them.
It’s been a whirlwind in my mind-
I mean my heart- I mean- Both.
I think.
I don’t know.
But I suppose it began
when we first met..
It’s always the same. The lier lies. The monster dies. So it’s not a surprise when I meet this demise.
Ready
I wish to slow down time. Maybe even make it stop. Because despite this smile, I’m not ready. For anything.
Forever Bleeding
I’ve grown accustomed to picking myself apart. Bitting lips till bloody. Picking at scalp till bloody. I bath in red. Only satisfied when sipping on copper. Compete in the pinpricks of pain. No need for bandaid. They make wounds obvious. Scratching till they bleed, doesn’t. Maybe tomorrow I’ll finally be bloody enough. Though I guess, not. For what would my hands do otherwise?
Back
Lets go back to first page, book one. You’ve read it too often, already. Look at new hate, this lost love. New favorite. Or at least new least favorite.
New Self
Lately I find myself slipping into new self. Never before seen footage. It’s funny, how quickly my body finds herself. How fingers just know exactly where. How favorite hairbrush is always close by. I count seconds till school ends. Seconds till I’m home alone. It doesn’t matter if I’m fully alone. Sometimes it’s better if I’m not. Lately I can’t find myself enough to care. Leaving stain in my wake. Just clean up like I wasn’t there. I never was meant for this. It’s too late to change.
Father.
I’ve been trying to be better. Prepare myself. Stop cursing. Using backwards peace instead of middle finger. Guess what. I’m done. So fuck you. Middle finger far more then prepared. Because you are a waste. A lier. A cheat. Waste of money, space, time. I’m done. Can’t breath. Guess what. I don’t care to be better. Why should I. When you wasted anything we had.
Remember when life was worry free. How tall were you? How easy was the smile? The laughter? I can’t. So could you do it for me?
Snow Globe
When it snows sit by a window. Watch as the fluff spins and swirls. Speeds up and slows down. Sit in your warm house. Imagine. How closed off you are. How safe. How untouchable. You are snow globe. The little people stuck in a story. The happy smiling faces. From the children's tales you once told. The snow speeds up. Some child must be telling the same stories. The snow slows down. Maybe the child is board. They put you down, walked away. Sit by a window. So someday, someone, takes notice. Someday, the snow will swirl again.
Adrift
Cut me adrift to set me apart. Cut me apart to shape me anew. But there's a problem this final problem. Too many. Every soul already adrift. There's never room for me.
He died.
My hairdresser died. Today. Or last night. It all depends on the question asked. When he died? When I found out? Either way my heart didn't bother skipping a beat. Death is natural. My normal. "Oh good you're not dead." Answer when friend returns. Because death doesn't last. Can't last forever. Unless of course it does.