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 Jan 2023 Scarlet A
Sara
When you kissed me, I lied.

I let you kiss me because I wanted someone to love me.  
I was selfish, I wanted to soothe my craving for attention, soft and kind love.

It’s because you’re warm and safe, I still do get the urge to trust you with love.
In fact you’re handsome while so insecure.

But I shouldn’t have kissed you, because I knew I didn’t want you but your aroma.
I chewed it and played with it to spare your feelings and to ebb my shame

but believe me, I’m happy to have made your acquaintance on that awful day that appeared on paper as perfect.
On the day when the last one I loved, introduced me to you
My poems have started taking sound of a prose?, not sure where it came from
It's like the entire world feels right
whenever I see you.
 Jun 2019 Scarlet A
shamamama
if i could pay you in poetry
would you prefer
fiery and feisty
loving and longing
crazy and crafty
scentual and sightful
playful and pranking
guru and gonzo
singing and songing
listening and lightness
softing and sensual
tender and tinder
laughter and limitless
insight and winsight

tell me,
what poetry would you
put in your bank?
On the notion of money in the bank, I wondered if he world would be different if we paid each other in poetry.  What do you think?
 Jun 2019 Scarlet A
J
Started writing how I feel, so I’d channel all this pain
Thought that maybe it would heal, all the **** inside my brain
Being lost became too real, pretending it was just a phase
No way out the doors are sealed, oh the monsters I create

I’m not proud with how I’m coping, it’s the only way I know
Substances run my emotions, welcome to the life of a broken soul
On the outside I look fine, but really that is just a show
‘Scars will heal give it time’ but life is moving way too slow

Patience ain’t a trait of mine, quickly losing all my hope
This life ain’t what I thought, wasting time is al I know
I got voices in my head, I got thoughts I can’t control
I am losing all my friends, guess I’m better on my own
 Jun 2019 Scarlet A
Naveen Tiwari
A writer writes to hide his pain.
And a reader reads to find someone who feels the same.
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