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Pocket Rocket

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Pocket Rocket last won the day on January 16 2008

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About Pocket Rocket

  • Birthday 11/02/1985

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  1. Beautifully written piece, the small glimpses of imagery are very much reminiscent of Autumn. Not my favourite season, but you speak well of it
  2. I love Sylvia Plath's poetry and this is absolutely amazing. Better to rage and rip apart, than fester in silence, 'blackening the time'. The violent passion of all those terrible emotions. Such an incredible poet, I wish she hadn't died... thank you for posting Daddy Bear
  3. This really made me smile and broke my heart at the same time, this is beautiful. For anyone who is contemplating taking their own lives, stick around for it all. As someone who has been there, at the very edge, I can tell you life is WORTH sticking around for. YOU are worth all those wonderful things and more. Thank you Daddy Bear.
  4. I like the first poem, it seems more like lyrics than a poem. Would you really sacrifice so much for others to be happy?
  5. These are pretty good but not always easy to read through, you sound like you're in a lot of pain. I forgot to tell you the other day there is a great site for people who cut where you will find others who also go through the same things. While everyone's pain is individual, you may find people who understand better what you are going through. You can also post your poems there for others to read. If you do post them there however, you need to add trigger warnings (e.g. is your poem mentions self injury, put *si* in the message title, or *su* for suicide). I found a lot of kind and helpful people there when I used to cut years ago. No one there will judge you as they are likely going through or have gone through similar things. Here's the link: link removed
  6. Hi Allie, thank you so much for the kind words, I'm glad you liked the poem. I know you say you're a little rusty, but even if you haven't written in a while, the inspiration is all the same inside, if you had it in you back then, then you'll always have it in you good luck!
  7. Broken, Broken, Disconnected, Touch the ground Because it’s home, And vow your breath, Until it’s written, Hold back fragments of your whole. They said you couldn’t reach perfection - Weep, my love, for this alone, Weep (my heart, my dark, my daylight), Weep my child, you didn’t know. And if you’re leaving for perdition, Live because it’s all you own… -------------- Not entirely sure about the rythm of this one, let's say it's a work in progress. Just me dealing with being a TCK, homesick for a place that may not even exist. Whatever it might mean to you, enjoy it.
  8. Sunshine; when it breaks through the gaps between the leaves, when it wakes the morning haze, when it brushes past the fields of wheat in sway. I love just the right amount of rain, the way it coats the ground; I watch the footsteps of the public dance above the sheen, and when the lights come on, the pavement turns to gold, glittered over everywhere; the drops like silver bullets through the air.I love the contours of a silhouette against the misted reaches of this city’s winter shades, sullen in a pretty way. I love the sea, grey like stone and flowing - vast, untouchable, untamed. The bird outside the window at 3 (a.m. that is); a love-hate thing, he keeps me up and keeps me company. Feeding the squirrels every week, delighted at how they pick my gifts between their teeth so gently. I love blood because it bleeds. I love that I can smile, love still more that I can feel it stretch when it’s received. I love the pain, I have to; it won’t leave – I love that someday it will. The silky sound of music on someone else’s breath, the smell of freshly baked bread. I love it when I understand. I love pretending I hear crickets in my head; I miss them on days like this. I love it when I feel the breeze touch against my back on a hot day at the beach. I love that I’m alive; love that I live; I love that I can give and give and give.
  9. You sang for nothing through the quiet streets Of London fair - The rain came pouring, gold and cold, So trembling past the injured and mundane. And round the misted contours of your breath Your sense of wonder lay in wait, For there was love beyond the dark, And life beneath your gentleness. I dedicate this one to everyone and anyone who has taken the brave step towards building a beautiful and happy life for themselves. We'll all get there someday
  10. Ah I see, I tend to do the same when I write. Keep 'em coming
  11. This is verywell written, and for the record hun, I care, and there are many people here who care too. Is this still happening to you?
  12. Your writing doesn't suck, I actually liked this and I tend to be pretty picky with my poetry
  13. Thank you, that's one of the nicest things anyone's ever said about one of my poems. I love Robert Frost
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