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Ronin Nov 14
the title’s a bit long but
it doesn’t matter
you inspired me to write again
and i just wanted to thank you.

these words aren’t the prettiest
nor the best you’ll ever see
they might be bad, even, but
it’s about the essence.

soft guitar sounds
singing and the occasional hum
jokes and laughter and

thank you.

~dedicated to @benfortemusic~
Ronin Jul 1
You tell me
I’m not that skinny
My BMI tells me
I’m way too skinny
You tell me
My waist isn’t that small
The internet tells me
My waist is small enough for modeling
You tell me
Everyone has size 2
Research tells me
The average size is size 12
You tell me
I’m not enough
Yet too much

I tell myself
I’m not enough
Yet too much.
Ronin May 31
When you wake up
It will all
Start to
Come back

And you’ll have to relive
You spent together.
I haven’t been writing much. I can’t sleep, or eat. I am heartbroken.
Heartbreak doesn’t inspire you, if it’s bad enough.
  Feb 19 Ronin
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you
if only i could chase you with pizza but shots don't work like that
  Feb 4 Ronin
Erian Rose
Distance doesn’t stop me
From loving you
To the ends of the universe
  Jan 28 Ronin
I always thought we were the perfect match.
But matches are meant
                                   to ignite
                                         and burn out.
  Jan 24 Ronin
You wake up beside her every morning,
She draws your curtains and blocks the sun, says,
“Sleep a moment more” and wraps herself
Around your waist, painted red fingernails
Dig into your sides and you suddenly find
You can’t see through the salt in your eyes.

Her tongue tangles with your lashes as she
Licks the salt away, saying,
“Shh, babe, they can’t know I’m here.”
She peppers your face with pecks,
Less like loving caress and more like bites but
To tell her “No,” has proved futile time and time again.

She stands behind you in the mirror, runs her hands
Over your body, leaving ice in the wake of her fingers,
Pinching your hips and thighs while she sighs,
“Oh, my light,
Why don’t you listen to me more?”

She catches your lips with every bite of breakfast,
Saying, “No, dearest, don’t give in,”
Kisses you senseless, but you just can’t tell if you’re euphoric
Or insane.

The taste of chocolate,
A knife in the gut,
It’s all the same to her.
So now you’re bleeding out on the floor,
And you wish that metallic taste really was a blade,
At least to swallow that would bring darkness instead of shame.
“The blood in your mouth has a calorie count,”
So you know it won’t be long until she takes that too.
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