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brianne-everett
American
The happiest day of my life was the day I knew I was gonna die sooner rather than later, this time. Because I'd been dying all along it was just nice to have a tentative date, gave me some time to RSVP And then I was fine, and just like that the grave filled itself in, lonely again and my skin was still just skin So I drank up my life, like the hours and minutes were chai tea with soy (no water, please), poured over ice because I'm pretentious like that. I'm a little sorry, that I'm not at all sorry because not much has changed since my due date has passed I haven't rotted away, but I'm not any fresher. I just really like the way the stars look now that I no longer know what day I am.
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Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 3:02 PM UTC
Pretentious Death
You were bad in bed, I’m talking from the outside looking in. You never could push against me Quite right, never quite long enough And it was never as rough as I, Or any sane woman, Would want. We all want to bleed, you see, Convulsing between ***** sheets. Castles are for princesses and I’m not royalty. Don’t ask me why, then, It’s your clumsy, hasty touch I crave Here in the stupidest hour of the black, My irritated fingers pressing Into half-hearted folds. I can taste you on my lapping tongue, I wish you’d come here And be bad in my bed. Turns out, I seem to miss your incompetence Most of all.
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Sep 13, 2013
Sep 13, 2013 at 3:36 PM UTC
Porch Light