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  Jul 17 Kalliope
Cyrus Matthews
Limerence is an odd thing.
I went over to your house again.
The same situation, all over again.
Except this time it was slightly different.
I had more control and felt euphoric.
Now I feel insane when I’m without you.
When you’re gone, who will I talk to?

I want to be so close to you that I can’t get any closer.
I guess I was when we were together.
With you, I feel happier than ever.
Are we meant to be together?

I think it’s best if we stay apart,
But oh how it hurts my heart.
I don’t wanna leave your side.
Maybe I am broken inside.

I hope, I ache, I reach for love but you can’t see my true face.
You only see my silhouette
You can see me but you can’t see who I am.

You’ve crossed every border of my skin,
But never asked who lives within.
When I think of you my palms get clammy and my stomach turns.
This doesn’t feel like love should.
This is just wrong.

When I think about you I get anxious.
So do I really like everything about you?
And do you like everything about me?
Or do you just make me feel loved?
And do I just satisfy you?
Do I like you?
Or do you solve my Limerence?
  Jul 17 Kalliope
Syd
Peasants squabble,
the homeless freeze,
repeating the mantra:
Spare change, please!
Magazines for bedding
The Big Issue, Forbes Rich List...
Maybe we should eat the rich.

Billionaires in ivory towers,
snatched milk,
now turning sour.
Poundland Tories,
in desperate hours
“Five more years!” they stubbornly hiss...
Maybe we should eat the rich.

A 2p tax cut
up their sleeve,
while children starve
and pensioners freeze.
So out of touch
those pompous ******...
Maybe we should eat the rich.

If monkeys exhibited
hording behaviour,
they’d be studied
to see what makes them tick.
The thought of watching others starve
makes me sick...
Maybe we should eat the rich.

We could solve the energy crisis
in two quick flicks
render blue fat
for candle wicks.
No point in playing
Champagne socialists...
I think we should eat the rich.
A rewrite of an old poem from a couple of years ago.
Kalliope Jul 17
What if today I took up space,
Decided it’s okay to love my face?
I’m allowed to scream and shout,
Don’t have to fake it, or hide to pout.

What if I told you you’d caught my eye,
Instead of waiting as moments pass by?
Would I then be viewed aggressive?
For knowing what I want, deemed obsessive?

Maybe I just want my needs fulfilled,
To show you I’m here, and equally skilled.

What if I let myself laugh too loud,
Not worrying about standing out in a crowd?
Let my opinions spill like wine,
No apologizing for these thoughts that are mine.

What if I danced alone in the street,
Made strangers smile at my untamed beat?
Would I still be called too much,
Or would someone finally crave my touch?

What if I didn’t talk myself down,
Lived my truth without fearing your frown?

I could say whatever comes to mind,
No more stitches, my lips now unbind.
I’ve made myself so small these days,
But I want to be big, have my turn on the stage.

This time I won’t even perform,
I’ll give a speech, I’ll change my norm.
Maybe it’s time to be unhinged,
To let myself out, chase a few whims.
What if I dared to love myself?
Kalliope Jul 17
Sitting at this table,
My sisters in their place,
My brother at the top,
With a baby by his waist.

We’re mostly parents now,
With our kids in tow,
But when I look at your faces,
I see the little kids I used to know.

We all have our own lives,
Of our own creation,
No longer just play pretend
On some summer vacation.

A brand new generation,
Being raised by us,
They’re little and young and free,
And I love them all so much.

Even when I don’t see them,
Or weather cancels our plans,
Being a sister, a mother, an aunt-
The best roles I could ever land.

And we’ll sit here at this table,
Loud, chaotic, and such,
Often I’m sad, honestly mad,
But in this moment, life has given me so much.
We don't play hide n seek anymore, or hideway to sneak smoke ****, but hearing all the children laugh and play- for now, what more could I need?
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