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driving past the
dead grass
against the grey clouds
my heart turns to metal and
my lungs begin to deflate
as
i get farther from you
i feel the sick start to continue
without your scent to fill my head
and
with out your eyes to steal my dread
i become a boulder
rolling down a steep hill
to be a boulder is treacherous
i hit the small rocks
that
wreck my exterior
breaking off clumps
im losing pieces of myself again

its a mystery
of how you wrap me whole
of how you give me worth

my throat burns
from holding in the sobs

im electrified
when im given your attention
my metal heart melts and
becomes warm
while my lungs inflate with
what smells of sweet cedarwood
and sweat
your skin is hot against mine
and i love the tickle of your body hair
the moments where you squeeze me
are when
my entire being is awoken
shocks of energy
convulse my nerves
and i feel alive
you are my sun
because
without your warming rays
and without your light
i am left cold and blind
When you feel love for the very first time, you become attached, that love is so addictive that when you must stop it, your cravings build. The desire is pungent, one cannot fathom reality without their lover.
missing you is the most difficult part
at night i lay in bed and cry
my mangled heart
it fills with melancholy
and it yearns for your love
i miss your eyes
and hearing your sighs in the night

i pull my car to the side of the road
i see the moons light through the grey clouds and i roll my window down to smell
the waters salt
my mind urges me to run to the water

I don't like the cold,
but the cold has always liked me
the cold entices me; just as you do
My mind urges me to run to you

my heart breaks
when i cant remember how you smell
Im feeling heavy
without your
strength
that lifts boulders off my shoulders

All I want is you
the stars don't seem to shine
as bright when you're away
my eyes burn from the tears
but i don't understand my emotions

I miss you
im sad
yet content

night invites my passion for you
my room is plenty warm
but shivers roll down my arms and back
i dont have the words
to describe
how bad it hurts to be in love with you.
curious hands
travel my ticklish ribs
squeezing my skin into clay
smoothing my insecurities
stretching my limbs
and as if alone in a meadow
breeze kisses my red cheeks
and daisies hug my short legs
rugged hands trace my chin
such a touch
sends me flying
swimming in the air
floating in lust
breathing in wildflowers pollen
im left lightheaded
lingering lips to forehead
i awake
to a fervor gaze
and fluffed blankets
" goodmorning "
i have a passion for poetry as i do for writing, but i have a hard time creating it myself. some criticism might be nice.
i feel red
i have a lingering dread
always standing out
as if in a quiet crowd
i were a shout
but i do not stand proud
i become still in fear
imagining im on the edge of a pier
pondering the jump
imagining my heart losing its pump
i would only be another domino
another life refusing to grow
im meant to feel red
but without the dread
my eyes stretch in worry
mice run and scurry
dribbled in sweat
i begin my fret
holding my fists
as serpents hiss
fading to black and white
here comes the fright
demons crawl the walls
i begin my tumbles and falls
gravity pulls me down
smiling faces surround
"can you see them?"
i ask
growing off the stem
my petals shrivel brown
i ate a plum today
the deep purple hue
and melting red juice
dribbled over my chin
it wasnt quite ripe
and this is how my poem begins
you arent really my type
standing all akin
mind all a luce
but im drawn to you
what might the knights forsay?
when they see me run
for fun
into your arms
might their ears shriek in alarm?

i ate a plum yesterday
might it have been ripe this day?
leaving my mouth dry and bitter
i would like another bite
my poem is not over
men do not think me polite
i cause their knees to jitter
and this is what the knights forsay
when i ran to your arms that day

"he is a reminder, that looks deceive, a ripe plum is not ripe at all, the act is clear, shouldnt the juice be sweet? shouldnt the corners of your mouth lay sticky? you are instead left bitter, running to an unsavory fruit that longs for your tongue. you do not eat unripe fruit, you throw it aside. this fruit will quake and die quietly where you have left it... do not be a fruit fly, they crave lifeless desperate sweets."
how might you interpret such a poem?

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