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N.x

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To commit slow suicide is to be close to death as much as possible
N.x

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The way to love anything is to realise it may be lost
It hits me in waves,
You're gone, you are there,
You're lost, but pretending
You have found the love that
Heals everything before
You even know where you
Are hurt, Yes, waves,
I don't blame you,
The next, I am screaming,
Then I don't feel anything
Cause I'm drinking,
Distant memory you and me,
But you say you haven't thought
Of me once, but I know you
Would never let your soul feel
The pain of losing me cause you
Don't know how to tame
Your devious little illusions
Of life, You're beautiful but lifeless
To the act of empathy, you are
Pure love but tantrums of rage flood
All my memories of you these days
You are attention, and comfort
But all that is lost in your indecisiveness
Of me, you are endless lust, days in and days
out, but I can't find you even when
we are
This close.
-N.x
“They ask, “Are you in love?” And you sit there quietly, realizing you must not be if you had to think about it.”
— N.M.Sanchez

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How can someone call you weak when they cause you so much pain
Ecclesall, 4th March 2018
We stand tall side to side,
Ecclesall, once a nostalgic breeze,
A summer love, a cold iced drink,
A home before my home,
Lights and sunsets, many sunsets
I have experienced, passing
With a lust for sunrise, waking up next
To a dream, a royal bed for a humble
King, peaceful and patient,
Now I see you like I see love, a street that
Once felt like everything that is close
To what breathing felt like, has now become that, breathing,
Nature, a second home, my actual
safety, and like the changes of love over time, I grow to admire the beauty in the
Ordinary, the beauty in the everyday,
My forever happiness displayed in summer rays and now in winter blues,
I hold on to the sweet memories like a
Newborn love, the obsession,
The passion, the blissful creation,
Our love that grew, I question do I love
The crowed streets like I used to?
But just like our love, yes I do
In a content manner, an appreciation for
Growth, from which came strength,
Praying time can heal, what time
Has caused, I love, I still love what
I have always loved, a home,
A heart, A dream.
-N.x
Poetry
I hate poetry, how it frees you so much that you’re unsure what you have left in you but traps you with your new ideas of how alone you have become. I hate how much of the ink portrays who I am as a person, someone I don’t know and would not like to meet. I hate that I needed poetry when I was at my darkest and when I was so out of my mind in pain, love…emptiness. I hate how I allowed myself to be associated with poetry that it brought me down to my knees sometimes and made me feel cold in the warmth of my bed. Poetry, sometimes, and I’m only admitting this once, has this undoubtable power to make me feel worthless in some way; I can’t explain it. There are so many words strung together to mean so many possible things but I can’t find the words to describe how I can feel my mouth filled with blood that doesn’t feel valuable enough to fill my bleeding veins. I fucking hate how I compare my poetry to ones more experienced when deep down I know I am no Sylvia Plath. I can’t stand how poetry allows you to lose control to the point you don’t know where to stop or worse, why you started.
-N.x
May your last breathe be
heavy,
Your eyes enthrilled,
Pupils dilated,
A black hole concealed,
May the knife be cold,
And your heart be ripped,
May you not fight back,
Collapse,
Into a black hole concealed,
May I not be the one
holding the handle,
May they take it lightly,
May I live
-N.x
He said
I wish I had stayed
And she responded
I wish you had too
Time had passed in eaches life
But the memories resist ever being the past
When eyes are glaring into what only they
Could call the future
But time
Is also Time
And it is Changes’ best friend
And now is not then and staying
Is not the same to me
He looks, his eyes dancing around
The room, thinking of anything
That could mend hearts, maybe
Fill some space that hadn’t been filled for
Quite some time
But all the room was filled with was
silence
And after all these years
It was still enough
-N.x

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Love is a lie. A delusion
N.x
(a six word story)
Wake up at 1 Sleep at 5 I can see the garden from above I can see the stars that remain and I can see the stars that don’t
What happens next I can’t tell you Cause iv never let myself Get to this point
Would you give up pure euphoric elusive love if it meant you could find ur way out of mind? overtaking. heartbreak.
That's all this could ever be.
-N.x
Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
Boys will put you on a pedastool just so they can have you on your knees later
and after he will not treat you the same
Ha Long Bay - Vietnam (by Aftab Uzzaman)

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Don’t explain your philosophy. Embody it.
Epictetus (via thinksquad)
I’ve been having weird dreams
About you, where you don't return
And I'm waiting,
but you seem
Gone for good
- N.x