"I don't know if it is a good thing to relate to tragadies, but I know that is what turned me into a poet.'®

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  • the_story_weed 4d

    The best part about talking with myself is that I don't have to say it outloud.
    I'm afraid that when I utter the words, it all becomes too real. And I know me, I was not made for this reality.
    All through my life I've been proved wrong, about things that should've been right.
    I've loved the wrong people and hated the right ones. Ever since, I've tried a thousand times to find someone who thinks alike and empty-handed I've returned a thousand times too. Maybe it's the debt of my sins.
    I fear that when I grow up and look back, I'll look back to regrets and half-fulfiled life; a life that I actually did not 'live'. I fear that I'll become a person that the present me is so desperately trying not to become.
    I fear that the people I am trying to prove wrong will end up being right and in the rocks of eternity, I'll end up being engraved as a failure.
    I know I've ended up hating the people I've loved. Something just happens and I know it's me to blame. I fear that the fear of leaving another someone I love, I won't be able to love anyone, anymore.

    A few years down the road, and the world will seem too familiar and all the wrong will feel like right, and I'll know I've changed but I'll be too tired to care.


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    I'll just not care.

    Living is a gamble, baby,
    Loving's much the same.
    --'Blues run the game' by Jackson.C.Frank

  • the_story_weed 1w

    --We all burn, but only our feelings melt--

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    When the wildfire melts.

    Let him meddle with fire,
    and burn his finger.
    Maybe he'll know than,
    that fire never forgives.
    Maybe he'll know that,
    when I say, 'Don't',
    I always mean it.

    Little one, maybe you'll know,
    what to keep away from next time,
    or you might want to know,
    what the fire holds instead.


  • the_story_weed 2w

    I will write for you tomorrow,
    I promise.
    But tonight let me explore
    the horizon and the beyond.
    Let me cross the river,
    and climb the hills.
    I will not forget about you,
    I promise.
    You'll be with me all throughout,
    like my shadow plastered to the Earth,
    but I fear the nights,
    for you shall go away.
    But the sun shall always rise,
    and we'll be together again.
    Let me write about the wilderness,
    but honey, I'd be lying if I said
    I hadn't already felt it in you.
    It's just today I want to know the world,
    and what it holds,
    I've spent too much time,
    knowing the known.
    I will write for you tomorrow,
    I promise.
    But, this one time I
    want to know the unknown

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    --Today, let me go--

    --She ventured to the unknown, as if it was the only home she knew.--
    (Please read the caption)

  • the_story_weed 4w

    --Because the night always brings me to you,
    but oh! the day always gets in between.--

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    The night always brings the worst of us.

    It's nice to know that I cross your mind now and than. It's nice to know that when the world sleeps, and you should too, you stay awake instead, and think about me. Days are easy to pretend you don't give a damn, but night always brings the worst of us, doesn't it? You sit in the balcony, enjoying the cool breeze, with a warm beer in one hand. You could've been thinking 'bout; how your day had been so bad, or how unbelivably cold it was, even thought it is the mid week of July. Out of all the things you could think, you decided to think about me. Because the night always brings me to you, but oh! the day always gets in between.

  • the_story_weed 4w

    --And we'll walk side by side,
    hand in hand. Someday.
    Till than, you'll be just a
    fragment of my mind.--

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    You never know when.

    And day-by-day,
    you let yourself go away to a person,
    who did not love you even for a day.

    And day-by-day.,
    you let yourself go away to despair,
    knocking on the footsteps of lonliness.

    You think you'd know when your
    soul left your body, don't you?

    But honey, I don't blame you,
    I can see that love has blinded you.

  • the_story_weed 4w

    Remember those fairytales that tell us,
    how your first love should be.
    You showed me how first love is;
    Young, wild and almost always incomplete.

    I never had the finest of everything,
    but one touch of you,
    and I had eveything of the finest;
    You, me and love.

    I relive those days every single moment,
    even if I know that visiting
    you even in my memories,
    is going back to the devil himself.

    You have taught me so many things;
    but mostly that love don't stay.

    I have been many kinds of foolish,
    but with you I shut my eyes,
    trusting you with my everything.
    Is that why it was so easy to fool me,
    or was it because first love almost always is incomplete?

    P.S: Only one more post to go for me to reach 100 posts...Yay!!����
    Thank you everyone❤❤

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    Almost, Always Incomplete

    If only we knew what's toxic for us,
    maybe we'd be less heart-broken.

  • the_story_weed 5w

    --When thousand rocks could not break me,
    Devil sent you.--

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    Let's re-think Love

    Today I've been broken beyond repair,
    Tomorrow I'll smile again.
    Today I saw that people don't care,
    Tomorrow I'll just not care enough.
    Today I realized how fake people are,
    Tomorrow you'll see me wearing a lie.
    Today you broke my heart,
    Tomorrow I'll forget how to love.

  • the_story_weed 5w

    --Story of a writer--

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    I will loose these words,
    if only him I could gain.
    And if that doesn't tell you,
    how much I love him,
    than nothing ever can.

  • the_story_weed 5w

    See everyday he slips from me, a little more farther and so, i slip a little more to come close to him. I wonder how can u love a person that u have never even talked to, than again, isn't that what love is; stupid. To be with him, i'd love to be, but again to be with him is also a dream. You always ask whom my poems are dedicated to, than today I shall tell u the truth. It is written for him, even though he is someone I don't know, even though he is the future I cannot have, I can make him stay in my poems, somewhere he'll never be able to slip.

    (Inspired by a real life conversation)

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    Can I cage you in my dreams?

    --It was so easy at first,
    than why is it so hard to end?--

    (Please read the caption)

  • the_story_weed 6w

    I can hit you where it hurts,
    and watch you bleed.
    I can stand there undaunted
    by your cries,
    and think, 'Oh! What a relief'.
    Love, you've heard all the
    poems and stories I wanted you to hear,
    Seen all the things I wanted you to see.
    But what about the poems and stories
    I wrote sitting beside darkness,
    that only my pen and mind knows about.
    What about the times,
    the blood-wrenching scenes that unveil
    before my eyes,
    that I do not write about.

    Darling, I can kill you with my words.
    So, stay away from me.

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    So, will u make me feel loved?

    --But if you come too close,
    you'll see that I can love you;
    with a love that even heaven dreams about.
    I promise you, I am not a poet with
    words of love and heart of stone.
    I'm just a person that has felt no love.--