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Literature Text
my heart keeps binding into rubber bands
stretching and bursting to bitter dust
sweets coated lips bury's my thoughts
drowning myself in the arms of a married man
deceitful desires that conquer my will to please
lustful in a bliss that i can't resist to leave
stretching and bursting to bitter dust
sweets coated lips bury's my thoughts
drowning myself in the arms of a married man
deceitful desires that conquer my will to please
lustful in a bliss that i can't resist to leave
Literature
instructions on never falling out of love
invent countless scenarios where pieces
fall into places and you fall into
his arms.
rip your chest up with bitten nails,
scourge your insides with laser-sharp
self-homing
precision-guided missiles
of unending scrutiny:
what's missing, what's missing,
what's missing.
discard fictions, soft-spoken and faceless.
you've met the real deal
and he doesn't want you.
write songs, write
this poem,
write, sing, remember
old melodies
of the broken loves of your youth.
tell yourself every bit of pain that had
passed through you before
carved a perfect spot
for this love to fill.
tell yourself, you loved him before you met him.
what you've learnt to
Literature
Glass
I always laugh when you refer to me as glass.
Not just because of the way you say it,
(glass-as-in-gas).
Or because I know it's a crack at my fragility.
Glass is pure.
I am like granite -
my body nullified from too many clashing traits.
Glass is transparent.
I am like clay -
illegible from all the plastered smiles.
Glass is unyielding.
I am like chalk -
easily broken and scuffed away by meagre things.
Glass is hung up on walls and in great cathedrals,
tinted for enhancement, but only ever painted on by fools.
I am hidden behind keypads and camera lenses,
coated in a thick paste of deceptiveness.
No, my love,
I was never glass. (Despite
Literature
poem
here i lay beside you
gazing upon you bare before me
and in the curves of your body i can see my future unraveling
every pore in your skin a new adventure
every other centimeter calling out
waiting to be touched
and i cannot resist
i cannot withhold
the desire within me
to embark on a voyage through you
filling every crevise
until i can recall each piece of you as if it were my own
and end my journey
resting my head upon the peaks of your breasts
able to hear your heartbeat
like a song that only sounds when we are together
telling us that in this moment
it is only us
and will remain that way forever
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marriage can be complicated , dont be to quick to judge throwawaygirl