-
plucking hairs from my sweater even in the middle of summer
-
I never realized my thighs milky white; were never supposed
-
with all the letters addressed to me but really want my bank account,
-
his lips were sugary sweet with bubbly enthusiasm,
-
I am gutted, spread out against a stark white table,
-
I've longed for a solid line to hold my hands down and the kind of control that doesn't take blood to power,
-
the sun has melted into the earth
the music still jingling across the wind
-
my heart will always hold you, even though my arms will never
-
I waited and waited, with you still beside me, hiding and wishing you could see how lost you were.
-
The tree sustaining me has withered, the leaves
-
the faucets of a diamond a razor in my hand
-
My hands are animated, tugging at the ruffles in my dress,
-
The dance is continuing on
without me,
-
The plants upon the table grow,
rising green and pink, they bloom.
-
her hands smoothed
the corners of his face,
-
I am not a master
of love poems
-
His hands trace my scars
both seen and invisible,
-
Twenty years seemed too distant,
like a small star glittering in the sky,
-
For two thousand, one hundred and forty two days,
I cursed you, I took out my failed redemption,
-
-
I was born to follow
their lines,
-
She becomes a whisper
that runs against the wind,
-
I pray one day you can forgive me
for everything I didn't say
-
-
In the beginning of my rebirth,
I carved another canvas, I feasted on the moonlight
-
Your voice, like a fallen angel
the broken feathers slip through my fingertips.
-
I can hear my body shifting
creaking along to the song
-
Dance!
into a thousand heartbeats;
-
I'm wrap up our painting
in silk and tuck it away,
-
this emptiness inside me
doesn't scream
-
-
She keeps a gun underneath her wings
tightly pressed against her ribcage;
-
I wish I could sew my memories
in a quilt, maybe they would be useful
-
my words are wrapped
in longing
-
Call me into your storm
I'll gladly greet you
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