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daylillies last won the day on April 26

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About daylillies

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  1. 2 things today!

    i have to write flash fiction for english but i can't think of anything to write about! suggestions needed ASAP! 

    also, I figured out how to put in a print subscription so that I could like be officially on this site BUT it means i would have to have a new account and like...... i already have stuff on here so hmmm. should I make a new account and just move everything, make a new account and keep this as an archive, or just not even bother with it? 

    1. queenie_flower


      I’m so glad you get to stay! But, I don’t think you can move everything. Maybe change your username here and keep it as an archive? Just be “daylilies_archive” or something?

    2. daylillies


      ooooh that's smart! thanks!

  2. father

    I thought I said I would not write poetry about you I thought I said that your corpse would not become my muse that only death becomes you and nothing else but look where we are sleepless, speechless and gripping too tightly to this pen I thought I said I would not lose sleep over you I guess I was wrong
  3. untitled

    i miss when everything was an achievement when getting out of bed was not a responsibility and things did not start at 6:00 AM i miss when friends were just playground buddies and bathroom partners gossip was just crushes and not who just killed themselves or who is high right now and where can i get some of that i miss when we called hanging out play dates, when we played make believe because we wanted to, and not because we are afraid of real life
  4. little kid closet

    i grow out of clothes often, but i never miss them, quite as much as i miss my horse sweater, all itchy and pink with rolled up edges or my purple dress, that i only wore when we made banana bread or at my birthday party in australia with the sterling roses and tea cakes
  5. Threat (tw, death, implied school shooting) (unfinished)

    i really loved this poem and the tension in it was almost palpable (it made my hair stand on end). a few days after the one in Parkland, my school cancelled the school day because of a threat, but the notice only came when I was already on the bus and on my way to school, so I really know that feeling of anxiety. stay safe!
  6. tonight, i will not drown myself

    tonight, i will not drown myself tonight, i will not spend hours wallowing in my own sorrow. i will not hate the way my body feels or lament about how dresses make my skin crawl. i refuse to. tonight i will not kill myself over the size of my chest, or my stomach. Tonight i will not chastise myself for having a complex identity. i may be a frustrating puzzle, but i believe i am a beautiful one. tonight i will not drown myself. tonight i will celebrate. AN: i saw an article/post/word thingy that was talking about how there is a sad lack of poetry about celebrating lgbtqia+/queer identity, so i thought i'd make something to contribute to that! coming off of a stressful week, this was really nice and relaxing to write, and definitely helped me feel a little better in the moment.
  7. my love, let go

    i wrote so much about you, my love, and like the timeless greeks, i compared you to marble and the gods, and i deified you so much that when i think about your name, i do not know who you are and I know i said i was over you but, i am bad at quitting things and as much as i hate it, i am weak willed, my love, and like wicked ivy, the gorgeous idea of you has trapped me in a firm embrace, and i am running out of oxygen. author's note: back on my bullshit
  8. to the girl on the sidewalk in front me: when you are at the beach, are you one of the people who lets themselves sink into waves, like they are an old friend's arms? Do you let them carry you up and down with the swells? i must admit i love those people. i mean whenever i go to the beach i can't breathe when waves get to big and visions of drowning flash past my eyes. even if you aren't one of these people I still love you. the way you walked like a child seeing the world for the first time made me smile. everything you did: the way you took a moment to inspect the hippie camper that's been parked outside of this one house for forever; the way you hopped onto that big grate in the ground and watched the air coming from it lift up the ankles of your bell-bottom jeans. it almost looked as if you were waiting for it to sweep you away, fling you onto some distant planet where everything is waiting to be discovered. it was a nice addition to my walk home, even though i didn't know who you were. perhaps i'll try trusting the waves the next time i'm at the beach. maybe i'll discover something new. to the girl on the sidewalk in front of me: thanks <3
  9. question (sorry if this has been asked before): If I had a print subscription but when i signed up on here it didn't transfer over, or whatever term is best, where do I put in the subscription number so that I can make sure that it does transfer over? (sorry if this is confusing) 

    1. queenie_flower


      it's on your profile, i think you go into settings? idk i did it awhile ago

    2. daylillies
  10. leave me be

    like everything else, you left, physically, of course there wasn't that much of you left to leave and i didn't even want to see you because i couldn't bear to see your gaunt face. eyes that were so strong once, reduced to nothing but dried up pools. i thought i'd never see you again, except in photos video excerpts that show you happy and healthy, but you came into my dreams last night, and not for the first time. you crashed a car in it. all skin and bones still. i want you to go. i want you to get out of my dreams, you aren't welcome here. i love you but not your hollowed out cheeks, or blank stare. i love you but not when you come to me straight from the pages of a halloween magazine.
  11. from the eyes of the rainbow kid

    could you imagine that, if only for a second, everything you saw, said, read was filled with color? could you see your fridays as icy blue? shimmering to almost match january, february. the clare de lune starts off golden like C and Y, darker than dandelions, and shining. then, quicker than a 32nd note, it moves to friday blue. suddenly it’s indigo and the world sinks into its purple-ish depths. imagine being able to count the rainbow. imagine calculations in everyone else’s black and white, but there are hidden spots of color between your fractions. 2 blue, 3 pink, 44 double dark green. the ones without colors? you say, there must be some. the ones without colors feel like missing keys on a keyboard, like trying to write peach may without the vowels. author's note: just for clarification, this poem is about my experiences with synesthesia! i wrote it for an assignment in english class but i liked it so much that i decided to post it here!
  12. how to trick the captcha beast (and other handy tips)

    @queenie_flower such a shame that quality swords are hard to find these days...
  13. 1. make yourself look bigger than it. YOU are the predator here. YOU are the dangerous beast. 2. distract it with loud noises, bright lights. the beast is stupid 3. show little emotion. do not let it see you are beaten down by its six rejections. do not show your anger at its curving and elusive lines. but show just enough to pass the "I am not a robot test." show enough to remind people that you are still breathing. 4. yell. scare it away. make it hide and cry like you once did. like you still do. 5. try again. deep breath. do not let your fingers tremble on the keyboard. do not let the beast win.
  14. dear love

    dear love, if you knew how much i loved you, you would not need to search for pieces of heart in small corners, for i am overflowing and more than willing to give Author's Note: hi i'm benny and i am STILL pining. anyway, another writer's block piece about a girl i love also i can't seem to write long poems anymore? like i've fallen in love with 5 line poems and its hard to write something that continues??
  15. sun damage

    She remembered the first time she had been sunburned. She was 6, and coming back from a trip to the Caribbean. When she looked in the bathroom mirror, after getting home, she noticed the skin was peeling off her arms and face. "Dad! DAD!" She called, worried that maybe she was turning into a lizard or something. "What's up kiddo?" Her dad had asked. "My skin is falling off!" She had cried. "Great!" She remembered her dad grinning and she remembered asking him why. "It's your sunburn healing. The old damaged skin is peeling off to make way for new, healthy skin." That night, she dreamed that the surface of the earth had broken apart and flowers had grown in the cracks. --- She looked in the hospital mirror. This is so much more than a sunburn, she reminded herself. So much more. She peeled the bandages off her shoulder. There was barely any skin left, just a pockmarked field of muscle and flesh and gooey scabs. Nothing was healing. Nothing new lay beneath that grim wasteland. She puked in the sink. Twice. That night she dreamt that lava had covered the earth and had left nothing behind but a desert of ash and fire, where no flowers would ever grow. author's note: this is sort of inspired by the story "War Machines," by Rob Andwood, that ran in the July/August 2014 issue. I wrote it a while ago, but i just found it again and decided to post it.