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sabrina-d
sabrina-d
Australian This is the story of a girl with no soul. / I am Saturnine, I am born from the Earth and I aspire to the clouds of dust which surround the most luminous stars. / Lover of the strange, seeker of knowledge, dreamer of passion. / I love bones. I love skin. I love when you can see the plum coloured veins arise from a human's eyelids. / These are my thoughts, my hopes and stories. And I am here to share them with you. / - Sabrina.
I long for darkened dawns followed by lustrous fingers, the caffeine in your blood, the ripe plum of your veins. I am the aching limbs and tiger-striped hips, cracked lips in welcome of lover’s touch.
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Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 12:05 PM UTC
Awaken at dawn.
You held a damaged girl in your arms, only to let her fall and shatter to pieces.
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Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 7:18 AM UTC
broken
This is one of those rare nights where i just want to be alone, and feel safe in a blanket of isolation rather than unraveled and bare, where others can see me.
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Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 11:43 AM UTC
unravel.
I am your showgirl, the pretty one with a sleigh-bell laugh, whom spoke only when spoken to. I am your accessory, arms around my waist, to add to an image already destroyed by reputation. I am the prize, the trophy, the girl you have touched and the one you have kept. I am your girl you rung the morning after, your selfish pleasure, the first call when you're in need of satisfaction. I am your object, your porcelain doll with moon-shaped eyes, you keep in a cabinet for all to admire. As not only was i beautiful in your eyes, but also possessed a public attraction worth using for yourself.
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Dec 20, 2012
Dec 20, 2012 at 8:58 PM UTC
Showgirl.
I tend to imagine myself, 15 years from now, Being one of those sad people you see In the corner of cafés, Pouring whisky into their coffee, pathetic, Drained. Bags drooping from their eyes, Adding another 20 years to their tarnished appearance. In some low income career, No friends, No livelihood. Just themselves and a dingy apartment, Cigarette butts scattered From an overturned ashtray. What sad expectations, I set for myself.
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Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 2:49 AM UTC
15 years.
I’ll ring you late, about ten. “sure” you’ll say and we meet at the coffee shop, old, wallpaper peeled on each side, but my favourite. One, two coffees, soy latte for me, mocha for yourself. We wander down abandoned roads unsure of the destination, but sure of ourselves, as we are lost in conversation. Cigarette smoke in air, and heartbeat quickened, i feel my love for you grow. Yet how can I love when it is not returned? Why am i stuck to my emotions, grounded by will? Heartbeat is racing now. I want to kiss you, hold you, the air is cold and I wish to be warmed by you, and only you.
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Nov 19, 2012
Nov 19, 2012 at 6:10 AM UTC
Coffee.
I expect it to be like I see in films, that I would be able to call you tell you I am so alone, and within minutes hear you knocking at my door, only to press me against a wall, your lips tracing patterns along my neck, and down my chest. Have our bodies create words, apologies, our mouths were unable to evoke.
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Oct 27, 2012
Oct 27, 2012 at 2:00 PM UTC
Luke - Part IV
Because words meant nothing to us, only when we touched would we become immersed in each other, only when subtle breath would escape us, and only when we join do we become euphoric. Drunk in atmosphere, loaded with ecstasy, you were the guide to every movement, my eyes with prickling fingertips. "Be mine" I whisper.
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Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 8:47 AM UTC
Be mine.
I love bones. I love skin. I love lungs, how they make a chest rise as a person inhales. I love dawn I love running as I pass through mist on cold mornings. I love coffee late at night with a cigarette. I love the little things that people do, such as how they move or how they touch. I love knowing I'm alone consumed by silence and the air is filled with conscious thought. I love dark things, creepy things, ****** up fairy tales and beauty in the most hideous of creatures. I love the colour grey, I love when it rains in the city and every man that passes is cloaked in dark trenchcoats. But mostly, I love waking up when you sleep so softly and innocently next to me, and I feel that everything is safe.
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Oct 20, 2012
Oct 20, 2012 at 3:06 PM UTC
Things I love.
Fingers bound curling softly as to not destroy the skin. Eyelashes bat and bones creak as two lovers shift in a rhythm so syncopated and so in love.
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Oct 18, 2012
Oct 18, 2012 at 8:58 AM UTC
Untitled I