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Miesha 3d

breeds like vines

hugging the

parts of me

I try to set

When everyone around you is a better writer than you. How does one keep up?  Why bother?
Miesha 6d
She will touch
Beyond your flesh
Triggering your soul
Bathing in its’ warmth
You’re her Apollo
And she is your
source of energy
and when she is away
her lingering touch
on your skin
will be the only
that she truly exists.
I wrote this while at work. I tend to drift off to la-la land more often at work.
Miesha Apr 9
Her wrists were forever
with the stains
of narrow-minded
members of her
Miesha Mar 21
Your lips spilled familiar words but with a foreign feeling behind them.
A natural feeling that weaved throughout the tone of your voice.
Yes, your words grazed my heart, but the truth shot through my soul like a determined arrow.
Aiming for eternity instead of temporary.
More ramblings about my Twin Flame
Miesha Mar 9
I dream of a heart nestled in its cage, enjoying the protection around it. It’s been hurt and battered. It’s been cornered and neglected.
I dream of a heart resting in its enclosure, singing lullabies to no one. It’s been humming a tune for so long that I hear it in my dreams. Is the song meant for me?
I find the heart in its confinement beating slowly as it stands alone. I walk to the cage, and the song is louder and beautiful. I'm mesmerized and haunted by the melody. I touch the cage and the heart thumps...and thumps. I hear whispers of pain and hope.
To my Little Wolf
Miesha Feb 25
Her eyes lingering
Touching is forbidden
Our mouths whispering
Words that are hidden

Twenty four seven
Seven days a week
She speaks of heaven
I breathe in ****, so to speak

An unborn kiss
Begs to come alive
A reborn reminiscence
That needs to die

Twenty-four hours
Seven worthy sins
She slowly overpowers
While I try not to give in

She wields a bow and arrow
Pointed at my heart
Playing me like a broken piano
I should’ve known better from the start

An open-heart surgery
I beg for no more
Seven major arteries

Everything severed without remorse
She plucks my chords with disdain
While I travel a dangerous course
Seeking the love she feigns

Twenty-four seven
Seven days a week
Her tongue shoots a signature venom
I cannot cry nor speak.
Miesha Feb 21
My head hits the pillow as my eyes adjust to the stars on the ceiling.
I hold my breath as my legs are slide apart feeling the fresh air hit my ***.
I moan lowly as the intruder uses their teeth to rip my soaked ******* off me.
“Mine,” they say.
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