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julie-grace-1
Life has taught me to: embrace my awkwardness, enjoy my triumphs, and always remember to turn off the stove.
i. hands grip, tug leaving unseen marks fingers crawl, creep under skin lips heavy, move deep in and out it’s sensual, snake wrapping around prey i move with complacency i came here for this cold, empty self destruction “i want this, i want him, i want—” ii. no one taught me the word no i learned it on my own too late after it had been stripped from me my voice sniffed out before i could scream no one asked me what i wanted or if i wanted anything iii. *** is violent destructive damning unrelenting controlling useless power iv. careful lips and careful caresses paper thin like one of us will break i don’t want it here where my heart trills at every brush where my feet feel grounded where i know i fall into safe hands my mind doesn’t want or wander my feelings never waiver but my body wonders if there is a touch it is meant to know
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Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 1:48 AM UTC
***
When our lips first met, The fragile sky did not collapse The vast heavens did not open up The resting birds did not awake to sing There were no momentous shifts Of the earth between our feet. The world did not change in an instant To memorialize the moment. When your lips met mine, I could feel your warmth in my heart I told myself that I could do this forever With you— just you. And I was surprised by the permanence Which I wanted to create together, Like the ink on my skin but deep in my bones. When my lips met yours.
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Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 11:33 PM UTC
When our lips...
the sky like fragile glass breaking when i reach out i grasp and claw a hand on the corner when it all comes tumbling down
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Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 12:28 AM UTC
sky
Today someone asked ‘Did she love you’. Because my love for her was stolen A brush of hands, of fingers tangled together but always in the dark A press of lips to her collarbones, her cheeks, her neck but never her lips It was bruised shoulders and bruised egos, Lost declarations and lost promises. It was the words I whispered in her ear while my hands danced across her ribs Or the words requested in the deep of the night when sleep was to far and nightmares not far enough. It was second glances and curious friends And stretches of silence and hushed arguments in the vacant corners of rooms. She stole my “I love you"s and stitched them into her skin like armor. And then she wore her armor to kiss other girls in the dark and to press promises into their skin, To hold them the way I held her, To love them the way I thought I’d loved her. I thought I could protect myself from the pain, But when I looked, I’d found that I’d given all my armor away. Today someone asked ‘Did she love you’
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Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 11:55 PM UTC
Did She Love You
You said you couldn’t love me Because eventually, I would leave you Or people would come between us And force us apart. But I guess you had to know that in the end Your cold indifference pushed me away Anyway.
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Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 11:54 PM UTC
Untitled
I wondered if I could be enough for you If I could whisper love into the fractures Of yourself you hid away If I could hand you bits and pieces So you could rebuild anew. But the foundation you rebuilt, Was made of pieces you took Until I was no longer enough For both you and me.
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Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 11:53 PM UTC
Foundations
I always thought when I left I’d be leaving you behind I’d be leaving us behind and moving on Without you by my side. And you’d resigned yourself to that I think. You said I was destined for great things: To see great things To do great things To be a great thing. I thought we were a great thing. So maybe that’s why you left Before I could ever say goodbye.
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Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 11:50 PM UTC
Great Things
we were still, quiet things, twin drumbeats among hoofbeats, background noise against a steady foreground. we measured our brokenness like flour in measuring cups pure and white, skimmed and leveled off at the top. some things aren’t supposed to overflow; blessings are, but we weren’t blessed, not in the ways we thought we wanted. so we found a new covenant in each other in soft words and soft lips and soft promises broken against skin made soft. still. silent. but the cacophony grew too loud, discordant, dissonant, our drumbeats discrepant. distance. disaster. we were still, quiet things, two drumbeats among hoofbeats, background noise against a sporadic foreground
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Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 11:49 PM UTC
still, quiet things
i was okay being marked ‘damaged goods’ because i was yours and you let me believe that you could possibly be mine. you found me beautiful, remarkable, understood me in ways that no one else could. i thought with you i found meaning - i was made whole in your embrace, my name never sounded sweeter than on you lips. 'no one will ever know you the way i do’. i was unknowable the way most broken things are the pieces were all there but in no discernible way. no way anyone but you could look at my jagged edges and find beauty and strength and love. love. it’s so strange how the first time the words left my lips and pressed themselves into your skin 'love, love, i love you i’m in love with you’ yours only grew silent. i could pick apart the ways you twisted my love made it something perverse and ruinous. 'you don’t know how to love someone’ and maybe i don’t but i thought with you i could try, that i could learn be someone worth loving. i was never one for fervent prayer but i got my knees and i prayed to God. i prayed for guidance and assistance. i prayed for patience and wisdom. i prayed to be absolved of the sin of loving you. we were great, beautiful, and terrible things. and i wonder if you ever truly loved me the way i thought i loved you.
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Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 11:48 PM UTC
untitled
I memorized the way you spoke my name. the way your lips curved around the vowels, like the soft kisses you used to brush on the tops of my cheeks; even the harsh consonants rounded out to soft sounds. soft lips, soft hands, soft sighs. you said my name like a prayer, reverent, as if holding a communion with God and only He knew the right dips and sighs in pronunciation yet He decided to share them with you. there was teasing and jokes and nicknames, but alone you whispered my name. it had power. it had grace. it had meaning. you were the only one who truly knew it. sometimes i wonder, if when what we had died my name died on your lips.
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Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 11:47 PM UTC
names