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4 am feelings
a collection of poetry and thoughts by vinte reese
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Weaving
Hit me with some poetry/prose
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4 am feelings
Chapter 1 of 13
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Ink Love Letters

Write your name on the line, short and sloppy.

Another obsession I’ll soon be over.

I just have to get you out of my system.

Blood oozing from my fingertips as I scribble down my sins.

Yours mingle in, a darker shade of red on the marbled bathroom floor.

Your screams echo like symphonies as the smile digs into my face,

Memories burning my face as they fall as tears.

Blood drips on the porcelain sink, mingling with the left-over water droplets.

My reflection mocks me as I scrub at my veins,

Trying to get your blood off me and making myself bleed in the process.

I wrote love letters on the palms of your hands

But you smudged my emotions while touching other things,

Other people,

Mindless of the pain you were causing.

Bruises and stitches.

Band-aids and heartache.

I’ve had enough.

I’ll get past these glittering memories that sparkle

Like gold in the nostalgia’s blinding light.

Fool’s gold.

I’ll get you out of my system.

Even if I have to bleed out to do it.

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Challenge
make me *feel*
make me cry; make me laugh; make me smile; make me *feel* the things you want me to when you write your words. write a poem or a piece of prose, but, most of all, have fun with it:)
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4 am feelings
Chapter 2 of 13
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inquisition

praises linger on the tip of my tongue,

cut short by the blood-curdling scream.

shivers race over my skin,

spidery legs digging into my flesh,

stabbing into the bones.

the hands of the clock remain still,

frozen in that hell-sent second.

prayers roll off my tongue,

dropping to the ground as stones,

ricocheting off the cold floor.

rain falls from the heavens

as if the angels are crying with me

but only i know that they’re crying out of pity,

not grief of what has happened.

gold coins sound as they fall into people’s purses

like rotten apples tumbling to the ground.

the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

it rings in my ears, deafening as i struggle to stand.

the heart quakes beneath me,

shaking with its own rage.

the sky shudders as it unleashes its anger,

raining down fire upon the heathen.

screams, like ice, stab through to my core

as i waver, my hands numb to the frozen reality around me.

i will make the world burn

and watch as it slowly melts,

lava dripping through my fingertips.

just to get to you

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Challenge
beautiful
tag me so that i can see your entries:D @Sadwinistic
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4 am feelings
Chapter 3 of 13
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just the two of us.

blood drops adorn the fringes of my paper. my hands tremble as i grip the pen and book, heart racing. icy air bellows down the nape of my neck and i shiver, your presence strong as ever. ghostly white fingers glide over my arm, discovering the scars on my wrist and lace with my grip water-swollen fingertips bringing a strange comfort, shrouding me from the darkness around me like an unwanted hug, smelling like an eerie basement filled with disregarded memories.

isn’t that all you are? a forgotten moment, an abandoned emotion, a long-since lost feeling that rests in the pit of your stomach, as heavy as a stone. your grip guides mine, scratching out words you and i have longed to say but never dared to murmur.

it’s unintelligible from both of us shaking but we know what it means.

just the two of us.

you and i - shared secrets between our once close souls and now lost strangers. your touch slips away, your ghostly comfort ripping from my shoulders as you disappear into the foggy shadows. only my writings remain on the page, lonely and small against a startling white backdrop, stained with crimson tears, crinkled from my desperate clasp.

empty, unreadable words that carry the load on my shoulders. you shudder against my spine like the quick and gentle flutter of a butterfly wing. oxygen stolen from my lungs, i gasp for air as my body obeys your faint touch, desperate to pull you close and hold you to my heart, never letting the cold abyss claim you again.

your bright laugh is faded as it echoes in my head, the sudden image of you enveloping me in your arms washing over me like a fresh spring day mist. flowers bud in the topsoil of my heart, watered by the tears from my eyes. they’re delicate - fragile - yet their roots dig deep, clutchingto the faint reminiscent emotion of love. of belonging. they swear to never let go, tendrils grasping at every crevice of the hardened emotion, the same as i’m holding on to the memory of you.

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4 am feelings
Chapter 4 of 13
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Cover image for post The Sea in Watercolors, by Clarity
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4 am feelings
Chapter 4 of 13
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The Sea in Watercolors

{Yellow}

We walk along the seashore, the sand underneath out feet.

The waves washing around us.

Salt water makes our skin tingle as we giggle,

Watching the sunset.

The sun turns molten red and orange,

Tinting the sky a beautiful shade of pink and blue.

A cotton candy sky-scape.

{Blue}

We hope and pray that our lives stay like this,

A beautiful scene.

But we know it won’t last for long.

The sea has claimed many for her own,

Pulling them down to the depths of her deep,

Swallowing them whole

And leaving us to wander.

{Grey}

The darkness falls quickly once the sun is gone

And we sit in silence, listening to her roar,

Screaming into the night because the world is so cruel.

Wind colder than ice tears through our thin clothing,

Digging into our skin and biting at the very core of our being.

Lost in the darkness we stumble,

Feeling only the coarseness of the sand beneath us

And the pull of the sea at our ankles.

{Silver}

Beams of moonlight reflect off the surface of the sea

Glinting in the sky above.

Stars twinkle in their glassy reflection,

Unbothered by the churning darkness below.

Shooting stars swish by and we foolishly make wishes

-Wishes of a better life, of better days

Wishes of a brighter day and a stronger dream-

But just because someone hears them

Doesn’t mean they’ll come true.

{White}

The foam froths on the edges of the waves,

A warning to all that go there

That the sea is a horrible being

And capable of many terrible things.

But we pass on, ignorant and naïve,

Thankful that it’s not us that’s being dragged below,

Into the depths of a lost and forgotten dream.

{Not yet}

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4 am feelings
Chapter 5 of 13
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obsessed

writing love letters on the palms of my hands

using the blood from my bleeding side as ink

i capture the stars and teach them your name

i harness the sun and make it smile for you

i trap the moon in the depths of the night

so it’ll lull you to sleep with a song

the universe quakes at my fingertips

shaking and shivering as if i am a monster

i only want them to know how much you are loved

but they call my love an obsession

as if i am a monster, creeping under your bed

or a skeleton in your closet, hid away from the light

brittle fingernails and peeling skin

bruised ribs and shredded knuckles

dried blood in the crevices of my fingerprints

tear stains on my pillow case

your blood matches the red carpet beneath me

squishing beneath my bare feet as i walk

dragging your stiff body behind me

the soft ground cushions my footsteps

making me giggle as the moss tickles me

the universe sparkles with horror at the sight

the moon hides its face as i look up

teeth bared and vision blurred with unrequited love

i made the stars hum for you

the sun and moon danced in their zeniths

at the very sound of your name

but it was never enough

so never again

lesson learned bridges burned

maybe next time i’ll listen

when the moon tells me all your secrets

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4 am feelings
Chapter 6 of 13
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i want to lay in bed next to you

and watch the sun set through the window

overlooking the busy city below.

but right now it's 4 am

and i miss your smile and laugh

the way you'd hold me tight

the light in the bathroom went out

and all i can think about it how

we used to lay in the empty bathtub

wrapped in a blanket i sit at the

top of the stairs and stare down into

the darkness of the livingroom below

the thing about being the last person

alive is that you have to watch the

sunset alone without someone to hold.

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4 am feelings
Chapter 7 of 13
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gold

badges that cover bruises

fixed on my upper arm

hiding the scars from last year.

it’s difficult to breathe right now

as if someone’s pressing on my chest

hugging me too tightly.

the air escapes my lungs at

the sight of you standing before

me as if nothing changed

as if you didn’t stab me in

the chest and then in the back

when i turned to walk away.

they said ‘walk away’ ‘be the better man’

‘take the higher road’ so i did

i tried but where did that get me

a year in pitch black darkness

surrounded by monsters that

whispered my greatest fears in the

dead of the night, their voices

chasing shivers up my spine,

through my body, and touching

my core as if it were base and

they’d be safe there. as if i would

protect them with everything i had

and hold them close, to warm them

to a burnt golden color. i wish i could

but i’m not strong enough. my

cold hands twist around their

words, icy fingers prying

the lies apart and pressing them

to my bleeding heart as if they

will stop the infinite bleeding.

yet nothing gold can stay

but not all that glitters is gold.

and as you stand there, your

fake smile plastered on a facade

you’ve been holding for too long,

i force a smile and walk towards you,

embracing you in a hug

and stab the knife into your

back, watching you bleed gold.

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4 am feelings
Chapter 8 of 13
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people point the finger to often

at someone else making mistakes

-they're human too you know,

cut them a break-

someone else who's tried their best

to make something good out of themselves

even though they may have messed up

at one point or another

you think you're so much better

than them, than others because

you're 'educated' and 'would never

do things like that' but you tend

to forget that you're human too,

just like them you bruise and bleed,

cry and scream, make mistakes

and i was going to say 'learn from them'

but i don't think you do.

see the finger that you're so shamlessly

pointing at others should be broken,

snapped back against your hand until

you learn your lesson. did your mother

not teach you that it's wrong to point

and stare at others just because they

made a mistake or because they look

different then you do? should i point

a finger in your face, jab it into your

chest and write your sins out on the sands

of the sea? maybe i should hold a mirror

in front of you so you can point your

finger at yourself for once and realize

that you mess up and screw up time

and time again but we give you a

second chance. so take a break from being

a judgmental brat and sit back and think,

'have i done things that people could point

a finger at?' and if you don't come to the

realization that you're just like them,

maybe you should just keep your mouth shut

because nothing but crap is coming out of it.

so here, look in the mirror, look at your

judgemental self glaring into your own

conscious and tell me that you're better

than them. go ahead. i'm waiting.

i hope you crumple to the ground,

ashamed and defeated as you realize,

your just as wrong as the mistakes

they made in the past only you're not

over yours yet. maybe you'll learn

from them, maybe you won't, but i

hope you hesititate next time before

you so easily point the finger

at someone you don't

even know

-jj

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4 am feelings
Chapter 9 of 13
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y e l l o w p a i n t

drifting in and out of sanity

drawing my dreams on the walls with crayons

as if i were a child, trapped in a nightmare.

painting my insides y e l l o w as if it’d

eventually make me happy.

y e l l o w is the color of joy and a smile yet

no matter how much pain i injest,

it does not stain my insides with everlasting happiness

maybe i am not consuming enough?

they’ve locked me from the paint cabinet

and restrained me from going into my studio

yet i long to be happy no matter the means

even if it means i must die to reach the unattainable goal.

how i wish the sunflowers would rain their petals

around me and drown me in their pollen.

may the wings of the bees carry me away into the

burning y e l l o w ball that is the setting sun.

if it means i must be scorched to feel happy so be it.

and so i pray that the rain would turn to g o l d

that the tear streaks on my face would melt away

that i would truely feel y e l l o w

instead of b l u e.

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4 am feelings
Chapter 10 of 13
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stolen emotions

there's something about

missing someone you've never held

about

having borrowed memories of someone else

about

wishing on a dying star

about

counting a never-ending stream of sheep

that makes the nights almost unbearable like

holding your hand when you're not here

like

staring at my phone waiting for your texts

like

waking up at 1 am without you

like

listening to our songs at odd hours

like

missing you.

i wish these were my memories

instead of fantasies

maybe then I'd be sane

and not pining over a stranger.

but what is love

besides insanity?

i wouldn't call this love because

i've never met you

but I know your favorite color

and your favorite food

that you prefer strawberries over blueberries

night over morning

milk over orange juice

milk chocolate over white

and yet you don't know

me.

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