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Nely Mar 2020
wrote you love letters for 8 years and on the 8th I said I was done. I know one day someone will fall in love with you, but never with all of you.
I did that.
One day it'll be someone else's turn to rub their fingers across your forehead while you dip in and out of sleep. You'll sigh,
You'll say " Iove you" but you'll be caught off guard when it's not my voice that doesn't say " I love you too" I am lost love, for all my lovers.
Nely Mar 2020
Making stops from the sun to the moon
Who'd say i'd fall in love with you.
I'll land my feet on its dusky grey surface
Tell em Haze sent me,
Message you that i need better communication,
More assertion, more voice.
I'll skimp through 900 degrees,
I need the feminine energy to suffocate me
& i'll assert my drive across the reds
I'll write love letters to demos & phobos,
While i hang from the rings.
I'll take responsibility for falling in love with the stars, the moon and everything about you.
Nely Mar 2020
ME
If you ask me about me, I can honestly and painfully tell you I fall in love with people whom never been loved. I always want to pour myself in the mouths whom never tasted love. I suffocate them doing so. I drown them in it. I bury them. I love harshly, dangerously, strongly because loving them with the efforts and knowingness, that I too was never loved. Never understood. Never heard. I want to stand in for all that never was in their lives. I see deserving in them, deserving of all the love within me. My love is gluttonous.
Nely Feb 2020
sometimes memories can make anyone seem alive no matter how long ago it was.
Nely Jan 2020
J
There's things I never want to feel again. Not for them. Not for me. Not for no one. Not for no situation. There's things I never wanna see cause it'll be hot flashes of what used to be. Things I used to do. The person I used to cater too. The person I used to be. The person whom I've shed. That ain't me. Thats dead. Those aren't my feelings. Those aren't real. They're not real. I've healed. I've healed. They were. Believe me they were. But not no more. Those feelings don't belong to me, they don't right? Not more, no sir. The one with untended emotional wounds and unmet needs. The one you never tended, prioriorites you didn't feed. They don't belong with the new me. With the new year. With the new skin. They belong with the broken. The old me with kinks, swollen bottom lip. The teary eyed, the big brat. With the small hands that fit perfectly into yours. That's the old me with the old you. May they rest in peace. But they keep me up on nights like this, tell em please stop calling me. Please ** stop calling me.
Nely Dec 2019
They say master what moves you. Can one really master a past presence that was once a favorite presence? One who's enterity is elsewhere with whomever. How can one master a has been? A one that isn't even a part of your today life? You've shed. Therefore, you're not entirely the person of 4 years ago whom I met. What mystery and answers lies within you, and what mastery may I develop in conjunction to you, to who's really you and who's who.
Nely Oct 2019
You're scared. Something about me arouses the forgotten ashes. The ones that have been spread far and wide in the back of your mind. I can tell that your involvement with me lights up parts of your brain that sends an SOS signal to your entire core. There's something within me that doesn't allow you to function how you'd like too. I'm skipping turnstiles and playing musical chairs in your brain, lighting up familiar triggers you can't quite figure. That's why you act like a relucilant adolescent, who only knows complications. You're not really complicated, you're stubborn. That's why your kisses are limited. Your touch is always as distant as possible. Reluctant at times. There's parts of me you're too afraid to touch, to maraud. Your lack of receptiveness completely turns me off. Makes me want to runaway without a say. Yet I know it'd be far more better if I played with fire and ignited a fire from your cupid's bow to your toes. Cease a fire across your body that you cannot calm. A fire that would consume your entirety. Devour your being. One that sparks your soul. & with my bare hands seed a soil that's been in need of loving. I have a fire match ready for you, hand delivered by a cherub. Let us consumate a taboo, you say when. Quickly I'll slide my thumb down the side of your lip, with my index finger adjacent to your top lip, cupping my fingers in, I'll pour in you the sweetest gasoline. Within you I'll ignite the parts you've neglected so much. Within you, they'll be a big bang, it'll be where our new love began.
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