I treat my art like an afterthought. A side piece; I’m ashamed of My 2AM “U up?” texts when It deserves all of me And I wonder how many times I can Cancel plans before it says You know what? I’m done You say you love me but can’t put me first Why should I be around when you…
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Black Dog Scratching
Same old shit, different day I’m familiar with this black dog that Scratches at the door to be let in Before it jumps on my back for a free ride into My thoughts. It’s there now, do you hear it? I’m the one waiting with dark circles And smeared mascara on the mattress Like a queen of dark things…
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Never Enough Time
“I have a theory for why time seems to speed up the older we get,” says Felix. We’re sitting in a little coffee shop. It’s charming. Cozy. It owes nothing to Starbucks. Felix and I are drinking some random house-special concoctions; this is before we became wary of putting sugar in our bodies. I take a sip, savoring the…
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A Whim, A Whim, A Whim
Unapologetic in her pleasures Selecting them like flowers Like clouds puffed away; an exhale Ecstasy A whim, a whim, a whim No need to compare to others No such thing as betters Just different talents; inspiration Learning More, and more, and more No greater joy than growing No greater triumph than knowing Tomorrow could the best; believe it Hoping…
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Please God, Let Me be Great at Something
Assembling images, constructing themes Why won’t the words come when I’m proving a point? I prefer my rage with a pen’s edge Knives are for posers Resorting to blood Instead of destroying the mind. Don’t they know The mind bleeds more? So I write my anger and I do puzzles Clicking pieces together Why can’t my brain click into…
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The Fruit
Crush my heart to pulp between your fingers; I’ll smile through the blood in my teeth and ask you to do it again, harder this time. I’ve realized it doesn’t matter if I make love to the wrong person with my words. The words don’t care. They want to be written either way. Either way, I’ll bleed. We’re all…
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Your Pain Wants Answers. Answer It.
I understand the thoughts you’ve had. If you’d been a certain way, maybe you’d have been loved. If you’d been smarter. Better. You’ll think others have it figured out and are more valuable, but it’s never been about them, and their own hidden worlds don’t indicate their worth any more than your own struggles mean you’re unworthy. I’m here…
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The Alone
The greatest gift I gave myself Is the pleasure of my own company To find in that calming, accepting presence, The grace to exist completely. – Sara Myriad, 2022
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Stripes
The way I see it, there are two types of people The first appreciates the tiger for what it is Rejoices when the animal is alive and fierce in its element, Respects and adores without confining The second wants that striped pelt for themselves Hunts, takes, proudly displays, Not caring the essence of what the tiger was, is lost…
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Slam Poem
I’ve tried to write Succinctly, brutally, Vitally, seductively, But apparently, “Poetry” simply means Writing Like This – Sara Myriad, 2020