Nao - Hello Poetry

Let me rest Let me melt to fit the curve of your stomach. Let me feel the warmth of your gut. Let me bend and fold to dissolve in your shadow, Holy water and sins of flesh, incensed and fascinated all at once by the way your body changes, Let me sink my teeth into the tender skin, Perverse intimacy, made so blatant By limbs intertwined, Fused.

0

Oct 16, 2025

Oct 16, 2025 at 10:13 PM UTC

Intimate

Let me rest Let me melt to fit the curve of your stomach. Let me feel the warmth of your gut. Let me bend and fold to dissolve in your shadow, Holy water and sins of flesh, incensed and fascinated all at once by the way your body changes, Let me sink my teeth into the tender skin, Perverse intimacy, made so blatant By limbs intertwined, Fused.

10

Your fingers make their way in my mouth, wrapped in my tongue like a gift, digging my waist and softly ripping appart my psyche. I am unwell for you, too ripe and too ready, The sweet ache of my teeth holding down my pleas makes itself known What is love if not ruin

0

Mar 8, 2024

Mar 8, 2024 at 5:43 PM UTC

Nature morte

Your fingers make their way in my mouth, wrapped in my tongue like a gift, digging my waist and softly ripping appart my psyche. I am unwell for you, too ripe and too ready, The sweet ache of my teeth holding down my pleas makes itself known What is love if not ruin

4

He made me repeat over and over his name in the night a prayer for safety every time I woke up night terrors and sweet salvation he became preacher and I believed This incessant ritual his name on my lips, my desperate whispering, I whimpered his affirmations, waited for the miracle to come.

0

Mar 2, 2022

Mar 2, 2022 at 10:13 AM UTC

Night terror

He made me repeat over and over his name in the night a prayer for safety every time I woke up night terrors and sweet salvation he became preacher and I believed This incessant ritual his name on my lips, my desperate whispering, I whimpered his affirmations, waited for the miracle to come.

14

Let me rest Let me melt to fit the curve of your stomach. Let me feel the warmth of your gut. Let me bend and fold to dissolve in your shadow, Holy water and sins of flesh, incensed and fascinated all at once by the way your body changes, Let me sink my teeth into the tender skin, Perverse intimacy, made so blatant By limbs intertwined, Fused.

0

Sep 27, 2021

Sep 27, 2021 at 6:34 PM UTC

Intimate

Let me rest Let me melt to fit the curve of your stomach. Let me feel the warmth of your gut. Let me bend and fold to dissolve in your shadow, Holy water and sins of flesh, incensed and fascinated all at once by the way your body changes, Let me sink my teeth into the tender skin, Perverse intimacy, made so blatant By limbs intertwined, Fused.

10

I never know when it starts. not when it comes to her. maybe it was 2 days ago, when someone didn’t smile at her, or maybe 2 weeks ago when it started raining. maybe it was 2 years ago, on Christmas because **** always goes down on winter break. Maybe sadness was always with her, maybe it never left, maybe it never will. Maybe that’s who she is, a nostalgic smile. she’s somehow infinite, She never really starts or ends, and yet time goes by so fast, She disappears, no promises, and maybe just maybe, if you’re important enough, she’ll notice when you leave, I never know when it starts. She seems so far. Her eyes are always clouded, under those thick lashes of hers, covered in mascara and dried tears. If you’re lucky enough, she might answer your questions, she might laugh at your jokes, and maybe just for a second, she might close her eyes when you hold her hand, And let down her barriers, just for a split second that seems to last forever. She feels so close. I never know when it starts, her sadness I mean. It’s familiar, a shadow behind every ray of sunshine she produces, because she’s an angel this human, Regular angel, with bleached hair and painted lips, soft voice and soft hands, apologetic smiles, when she says she’s doing well but isn’t sure. I like to think I know her, the one who does her makeup on facetime, and plays the piano in the dark. And I like to think I know when she starts to feel okay, this girl who chooses her earrings every morning, I like to think I’m important enough For her to notice when I leave. She’s somehow simple, under her labels of “complex” she’s a very human little angel with her bleached hair and painted lips, soft voice and soft hands, I never know when it starts, not when it comes to her, but I like to think, I can somewhat understand. When she plays, this girl we all want to know, she takes you with her, in memories, you don’t have and moment’s you haven’t lived, places you haven’t seen.

0

Sep 27, 2021

Sep 27, 2021 at 6:34 PM UTC

To the girl i hate most

I never know when it starts. not when it comes to her. maybe it was 2 days ago, when someone didn’t smile at her, or maybe 2 weeks ago when it started raining. maybe it was 2 years ago, on Christmas because **** always goes down on winter break. Maybe sadness was always with her, maybe it never left, maybe it never will. Maybe that’s who she is, a nostalgic smile. she’s somehow infinite, She never really starts or ends, and yet time goes by so fast, She disappears, no promises, and maybe just maybe, if you’re important enough, she’ll notice when you leave, I never know when it starts. She seems so far. Her eyes are always clouded, under those thick lashes of hers, covered in mascara and dried tears. If you’re lucky enough, she might answer your questions, she might laugh at your jokes, and maybe just for a second, she might close her eyes when you hold her hand, And let down her barriers, just for a split second that seems to last forever. She feels so close. I never know when it starts, her sadness I mean. It’s familiar, a shadow behind every ray of sunshine she produces, because she’s an angel this human, Regular angel, with bleached hair and painted lips, soft voice and soft hands, apologetic smiles, when she says she’s doing well but isn’t sure. I like to think I know her, the one who does her makeup on facetime, and plays the piano in the dark. And I like to think I know when she starts to feel okay, this girl who chooses her earrings every morning, I like to think I’m important enough For her to notice when I leave. She’s somehow simple, under her labels of “complex” she’s a very human little angel with her bleached hair and painted lips, soft voice and soft hands, I never know when it starts, not when it comes to her, but I like to think, I can somewhat understand. When she plays, this girl we all want to know, she takes you with her, in memories, you don’t have and moment’s you haven’t lived, places you haven’t seen.

67

je t'aime un peu trop peut etre surement je sais j'en fait toujours trop pour toi mais surtout pour mon visage dans tes yeux tes joues rouges oh mon dieu je taime beaucoup trop je sais j'oublie tout, pardonne tout tout ce que je veux c’est du temps une seconde un regard une parole je t’aime, oh je sais que je t’aime je t’aime a mourir je t’aime a rester je taime trop je n'y peut rien et pourtant je me blame je t’en veux un peut trop peut-etre je n’y peux rien, tu me hantes, et j’acceuile ton fantôme avec un sourire aux les lèvres. Je t’aime, beaucoup trop je sais, si tu savais, si tu savais.

0

Sep 27, 2021

Sep 27, 2021 at 6:31 PM UTC

Je t'aime

je t'aime un peu trop peut etre surement je sais j'en fait toujours trop pour toi mais surtout pour mon visage dans tes yeux tes joues rouges oh mon dieu je taime beaucoup trop je sais j'oublie tout, pardonne tout tout ce que je veux c’est du temps une seconde un regard une parole je t’aime, oh je sais que je t’aime je t’aime a mourir je t’aime a rester je taime trop je n'y peut rien et pourtant je me blame je t’en veux un peut trop peut-etre je n’y peux rien, tu me hantes, et j’acceuile ton fantôme avec un sourire aux les lèvres. Je t’aime, beaucoup trop je sais, si tu savais, si tu savais.

34

I love her Just enough To wish I was a man

0

Aug 17, 2021

Aug 17, 2021 at 4:38 PM UTC

Gender

I love her Just enough To wish I was a man

4

You look like an angel Red skin Green eyes Blue lips I think it’s love You look like a miracle Rough hands Cold skin Soft cheeks I think I see your love Or maybe It’s just the lsd

0

Aug 17, 2021

Aug 17, 2021 at 4:35 PM UTC

Drugs

You look like an angel Red skin Green eyes Blue lips I think it’s love You look like a miracle Rough hands Cold skin Soft cheeks I think I see your love Or maybe It’s just the lsd

12

if I am happy, truly happy, is it okay for me to complain. It's all so new, this peace of mind, I feel the need to ruin it. If I am happy, truly happy, and I make it stop at least you won't

0

Mar 14, 2021

Mar 14, 2021 at 1:33 PM UTC

If I am happy

if I am happy, truly happy, is it okay for me to complain. It's all so new, this peace of mind, I feel the need to ruin it. If I am happy, truly happy, and I make it stop at least you won't

13

Every time I whisper my love, it becomes more concrete, a cement between my bones, crushing me with no remorse.

0

Feb 10, 2021

Feb 10, 2021 at 9:01 PM UTC

Concrete

Every time I whisper my love, it becomes more concrete, a cement between my bones, crushing me with no remorse.

5