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becca-calvillo
American Becca isn't quite there yet.
how can I describe the sweetness of your breath as I inhale it the roughness of your chin when you kiss me the stubbiness of your nails as you clutch my hand in yours the tickle from your diaphragm against mine as your bed time breaths steady and deepen the softness of your eyelids always hidden by your glasses the coarseness of your hair as its laced between my fingers your dynamic eyebrows the gaps between your teeth your long second toe I can't sleep, I'm hyper aware of your presence next to mine.
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Feb 11, 2012
Feb 11, 2012 at 4:05 PM UTC
On more pleasant terms
Entangling my fingers on the curly q's across your chest You're nibbling on my ear as you help me get undressed My heart is pounding, mind is racing You kiss me fiercely, we're embracing On my back, we're on your bed You've pinned my arms above my head Hold me, squeeze me, kiss me, please me I am yours to be led.
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Feb 11, 2012
Feb 11, 2012 at 4:00 PM UTC
I am yours to be led.
Invitation to my First Exploration of a Neighborhood I now call My Own My Gateway to Assimilation My Window to the World My source of Freedom          when the Streets , the City are otherwise Unreachable A Place for Habit           that Cannot be carried back A Record Player of Noise, Music, Conversation   Foreign and yet Familiar A Home for my Drying Rack   of Thoughts, Ambitions, Fears An Escape from the Chaos A Last Glance at the Reality I Will Never Forget
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May 4, 2011
May 4, 2011 at 2:53 PM UTC
Μπαλκόνι μου
I didn't need her to tell me not to. The tubes running from her nose, behind her ears, across the floor they speak for themselves. But there's something about being here, knowing she was. And that we both enjoyed this landscape as we lit, an end for her and a beginning for Me.
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Apr 6, 2011
Apr 6, 2011 at 4:33 AM UTC
This European Nicotine High
Rumpled sheets Stacked dishes Heaped clothes Agenda Script Novel Novel Novel Slipping shoes on Arriving almost Staying after Dedication Perserverance Optimism Did anyone ask you?
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Oct 30, 2010
Oct 30, 2010 at 2:13 PM UTC
Unappreciated Judgement
your protagonistic role in my life hinders my ability to live. your constant state of self loathing dampens my chances at. optimism. and yet, your charming appreciation for  my ethics impassions me to strive and yield.
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Oct 29, 2010
Oct 29, 2010 at 8:41 AM UTC
Untitled, I guess
I speak I write I sing I yearn for something more than just discern cannot grasp, not tangible what I long for's impossible to find if you are trying to seek in the mean time I must fill my need I speak I write I sing I crave to be the best without delay learn the most and fill my brain speak the truth without refrain have the fame, know where it's at hope that others will know that I speak I write I sing I wish for someone who will share my bliss ful tendencies, who will want me rely on me to fill their need tell me that they know I can cause I speak I write I sing I am
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Oct 28, 2010
Oct 28, 2010 at 10:50 PM UTC
Greatest Desire
More? You want more? Look at you, you drunk ***** Mess. You're a mess. Letting his hands run up your dress. Fool. You're such a fool. Getting **** drunk cause you think it's cool. **** You filthy **** Stumblin around with your eyes all shut. End. Now it's the end. Slur 'goodnight' to all your hook up friends.
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Oct 28, 2010
Oct 28, 2010 at 10:39 PM UTC
drunk *****
She was mystical                             beautiful                                         an angel in the flesh. You were gullible                            swoonable                                       a romantic, nothing less. I was tired                    unwilling                                a friend at its best. Her call was alluring                                     entrancing                                               a song to summon all the rest. And it was too late                              hopeless                                        you didn't have too far to fall. But she caught you                                that demon                                          with her deadly siren's call.
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Oct 28, 2010
Oct 28, 2010 at 10:35 PM UTC
The Siren's Call
I think it’s funny how you wear Your hair pulled back just right With your necklace lying perfectly On your fake-n-bake skin. I know who you’re trying to impress, Gooping your eyes with mascara, Coating your face with bronzer That makes you shimmer ten shades darker. It’s not your boyfriend. You’re not fooling us. It’s as exposed as your cleavage.
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Oct 28, 2010
Oct 28, 2010 at 10:17 PM UTC
Exposure