Welcome to my poetry blog!

I am a twenty-four brown-eyed Aruban wanderer;
forever questioning where I'm going
and where I've been.
And when I'm not reading,
I'm writing. When I'm not writing, I'm reading.

Furthermore, writing has always been my
way of captivating a deep thought, grief,
lost love, depression and even hatred (sometimes).

Feel free to read and comment on my weird,
puzzling, obsessive, reckless and sometimes
confusing poems. It's all about what you
interpret from them that gets me buzzin'!

Thank you and have fun reading y'all.

-Lily Clarisa

Wednesday, July 3, 2013


He hates the world,
he’ll let it burn,
but he loves me.

He pities the damned,
only to see them hanged,
but he loves me.

He hates your guts,
he’ll spit all over your grave,
but he loves me.

Secretly, he hates himself,
he’ll put it all in a bottle,
save it for a rainy day.

He is his own demon,
but he’ll rather see the world burn,
than see his misery uncorked. 

So I’ll be his rock,
I'll be his glass.

And he’ll be the pebble in my shoe.

But I love him.

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