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yam-kaplan
Russian
I build a blanket fort and name it Olympus with a wishful thinking of you coming over. Smoking is forbidden in my celestial hall. Take your shoes off, I don't mind your stinky feet. Let's play war- I'd be your Hera and you'd be my Titan. I would bite your neck, kiss you on your shoulder, **** you with kindness, call you Atlas and make you hold my sky up forever and a day.
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Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 3:18 PM UTC
Untitled
She is raving and unfaithful, judged to die of insomnia but I love her. She dances four tangos with demons in her mind but the fifth dance is mine tonight. Instead of singing her love songs I scream in agony "Baby, your blood tastes like Tequila", but she pours me a cold Jager hissing. She was never a person of tender touch, rolled up her sleeves and showed her scars and bruises like a warrior. She is ******* and restless, a street cat fearing strangers yet chasing cars and I love her.
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Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 2:16 PM UTC
Tequila
I need a good lawyer for I am about to start a custody war, dear. All the mess I make in them sheets alone having those restless nights, reminding myself of the Xanax era - I've counted to 1575 trying to fall asleep last night. Since you've filled my cup and opened me at an unfinished chapter, crucified my sanity and ditched a grave for my solitude I've lost the vision of where you end and I begin. Look what you've done! You took my songs on my special playlists, now my favorite sweets taste like your morning kisses and my favorite dresses are now your favorite ones to remove and my favorite everything is now yours, even morning air and ice cold fingertips. As soon as I get a good lawyer I will have my favorite records, movies, house slippers, positions and pizza toppings- only mine, at my place on Tuesdays, please.
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Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 2:35 PM UTC
Pat II
If you dip your naked self up to your chest in the Mediterranean sea and you flinch and yell sensing the burning salt on your scratched skin incasement, would you die in pain dipping your soul?
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Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 2:26 PM UTC
Sea
I touch words: I touched Azure and saw clear blue sky and sunflowers and cows chewing on some chaff. I touched Gentle and saw my kitten's paws curled while he's asleep and fresh straight- out- the- dryer laundry and a long embrace. I touched Heart and saw its measured yet persisting beat. I touched Wadi and I saw me and my loved one walking our dog wearing sandals and the ugliest of hats. I touched Horizon and saw the sun kissing the soil. I touched Bell and saw a Sunday mass in my hometown church.
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Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 1:58 PM UTC
I touch words
Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. At first I only wanted his words - sweet and flawless, warm like fuzzy socks and blanket forts, simple yet adorable like those Dr. Seuss books. As time passed I had become greedy and asked for them lips kissing mine. Son, help me reaching him, let my feet dance all the way to his porch wearing my favorite dress and perfume. Tell the Holy Spirit to guard my love tenderly, to kiss him goodnight and no sugar in his coffee, please.
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Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 1:41 PM UTC
Pat
At first I was a little effexor, though my pulse hurried to get cipralex. My dreams were ****** and clonex, so trazodone I could barely feel my fingertips, yet zodorm enough to wake up in a cuckoo's nest. Pulling me out of my psychiatric diagnosis was never as easy as pulling me out of my morals and clothes.
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Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 11:21 AM UTC
Borderline
My breath would love to have a randevu with your lips. It screams in every single language I know "Obey me! Obey me! Obey me!" and keeps my mental equilibrium in a dungeon, leading me to hunger pains with no hugs and forehead kisses to feed them. My heels keep on clicking towards somewhere you might be, wailing loud enough for all the love deities to hear. Just come here already. I'll arrange us some fine hot tea and buy your favorite bakery, we'll keep it proper yet overwhelming and I'll let you wear my house slippers so you won't get cold feet.
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Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 3:17 PM UTC
Ugh
Look at you, an atheist addressing God, a fairytale beast caged and force-fed with Prozac, awaiting redemption. You won't let me spill some light on your spectacular murals that you've been hiding lately behind "loneliness is a bliss" and "goodbye". I want my "how was your day"s and "take care"s and caressing mutual core. I want my greyscale back and all of my pages blank, serene and sober. I want to peel you off the arteries' walls as easy as I peel off my nail polish when I get anxious unless I get to be Goldielocks once again.
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Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 1:58 PM UTC
Tony
I wish each blunt I'd smoke would erase a letter of your name from the top of my lungs. You see, you've changed my name to "C'est la vie, Darling". My mother died later that year so the phone calls addressing my forgotten self stopped eventually. Two Thursdays ago I had cinnamon buns with Hades. He was such a flirt with these benevolent eyes of liquid brown mirroring my self hate and bad dub; casting me away from your smell in my apartment right before you wash the day off your mortal flesh. He bought me scented candles and invited me to where the roots are, and there wasn't enough oxygen to lit up my blunt.
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Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 2:08 PM UTC
Hades