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@cedar08
Introduction to Me!
My name is Cedar!
She/Her pronouns (neutral = okay)
poetry exclusive page
I am a nature-obsessed girl who reads and writes a little too often. I am a fan of classic literature, poetry, and philosophy. My goal is to become a 6th grade teacher! . My mother was a writer and now I am, too (except in the opposite way).
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Rainer Maria Rilke, from a poem titled "God Speaks," featured in The Book of Hours
I am the shadow you fear to name,
the fire you bury deep in shame.
I crawl beneath your fragile skin, a war you lost before it could begin.
I taste the blood you try to hide,
the crack inside where you confide.
I gnaw at bones, I tear at truth,
the beast unmasked, reclaiming youth.
I rage, I spit, I drag you down — a whisper turned to brutal sound.
You lock me out, but I break through,
the darkness bred and born in you.
I am the poison, cold and sharp,
the bleeding wound, the shattered heart.
No chains can bind, no voice can quell,
I am your wrath. I am your hell.
– Okeanis
the trees you grew up with have not forgotten you. their branches still whisper your name in the breeze and their roots remember the paths your feet once traced through their shade.
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Skygazer
Fleeting sensations of entrapment Wash over me, strangely; as if I could fly Into the wide open
Blue,
Or starstrewn, When my gaze could wander Ad infinitum.
Confrontational cages Reveal themselves, so that it is hard To breathe; so that I am not at Home, anymore. This planet, this house
This skin; they are
All, Too foreign.
Locked up, I catch myself etching the walls With a silent wishing For a touch of cold fingers, Pressed on heated skin. Just to get me Back in
With a sense of belonging.
Heaven is lost
To an impenetrable looming.
Perhaps, only for a day, And I don't know whether this makes me Face facts, suppressed, Or simply ridden With a fallacious homesickness.
I have never grown wings, And I never could fly.
Or could I?
The pall lowers as mist. Revelation: I miss.
Your fingers, your kiss, and, now, above all,
Your gaze:
The flight, infinite.
The glow to fill up All these empty spaces, And I was Back In.
Home.
Whole.
Belonging.
--- 15-11-2025, M.A. Tempels ©
Do drops of me cling to your atmosphere? I linger as mist in your indigo sky You no longer ask me for anything I'm still trying to promise you everything
Your husbands got a sneaky problem
Sneaking to my songs to solve them
He wants you and your child dead
But he chose to play this song instead
Cause without my songs you'd be gone
Both shot in sleep, burned by the lawn
But your dumbass wants us all to stop
All of us gating your predators thoughts
Where will they go to sublimate this time
When all they have is real life to try
Sure theres plenty who use me as their why
But theres also plenty of me saving lives
I thought you were disingenuous hypocrites
But no you're actually too stupid for this
You're all such insufferable deluded pricks
That people like me gotta sneak in this shit
And play a song to not eviscerate you, in fact
You're just a song away from being a redact
Walking in the door,
stairs will take you
to the white, the blue
it's matching your steps
watching
a mouse and a fox,
stalking
take me with you, through it all
take me with you
it's your call
The pictures on the wall
walking on the stairs
run and fall
it's only fair
Walking in the door,
stairs will take you
to the white, the red
but what you choose,
it matters through
the wreckage of it all
do you hear my call?
those pictures on the wall
stare and care
you stop and bawl
it matters, though
laying on the floor
coaxing
a word, a thought
its all bought
through your commotion
and how you fought
have you earned me?
when you walked through the door
what were those stairs?
those pictures on the wall
scare you
but if you stopped to care
they are mirrors of you
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I am good. I am loved.
A rotting tree
breathing the life of death
heavy, fading
leaning, falling, breaking
down, until he
is resting on the ground,
dying.
He is dead, and
earth will eat him, happy
the dirt will feast
until there is nothing
but new
there, next to this
corpse is a friend, cedar
tree, looking
at her dear friend, tired
of watching them
all fall.
continuous,
she stands, her needles are
a blanket on
the corpse, shielding the eye
from despair, foe
her tears are sharp, a pain
produced from her
that will never rot, nor
falter. the cedar
never rots.
"War and Peace", Leo Tolstoy (translated by Constance Garnett)
Secrets I keep
Like I keep you
Hidden away
From simple views
And dark hues
Of blues
There's no alarm clock like fear
I want to hold you under water
until your end is near
just to show you how i falter.
And when you close around my throat,
lightning strikes and like thunder, i need to scream
Please, just keep me afloat.
The alarm rings and in my mind, there's a gleam
I am awake, my body stings with fear
I am awake, i cannot help but stay frozen
I am awake, my chest is heaving as if you are near
I am awake, and I wish my hair hadn't grown in
I cannot escape you, my mind holds you tight
You're my prison and I'm the bars that hold you, your prison
I don't even know who you are or what brings this fright
but I cannot escape you, I'm in no position
There is no alarm clock like fear
The ticking of my heart and the buzz of my mind
I am weak, tied to a curse that i just can't see clear
let me hold you under water so i can see how we're intertwined.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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I just need a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time a little more time
My heart sinks a little
When I get a text and it's not his.
I love him, but
It isn't that. We aren't that.
But he's my predecessor
He's a version of me I don't hate
He's who I am, have been, may be
And I don't hate it. Once more
I feel guilty that I hate when it's not his.
I feel shameful when my heart sinks
But the text isn't his.
And I feel shit regardless.
