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 Mar 2017 skaldspiller
Genevieve
Baby, I'm a pessimist.
There's no situation I can't find disaster in
I'm smooth and quick on the downfall
Ready to give up hope at every stoplight.

Vending food to hungry dollar signs,
I sell my faith in humanity with every transaction
Each meal comes with a slice of my dignity.

I beg for even one person to surprise me,
Shake my prediction from their shoulders,
All to no avail.
Predictable, granted, solidified in their selfishness

At 3 in the morning,
They're all looking for someone to go home with,
Someone to tell them they have worth,
And they'll willingly bare their teeth should you get in the way.

It's not beautiful anymore,
Watching this dance called humanity.
It's ugly and self-gratifying
And only rarely is Care shown to anyone but children.

We lie, manipulate, and steal from one another
Killing the very earth beneath our feet
And somehow I am still supposed to hope for something better?
I lost that hope when I was still a child,
And the stump left in its place shows no signs of growth.

Baby, I'm a pessimist.
Which is to say,
I'm an *******.
 Mar 2017 skaldspiller
Genevieve
Amongst the forest of your ribcage
Pounding feet muffled by moss beds
Racing and weaving betwixt a wig of vines
Elusive artist, gymnastic god

Can I catch him?
Do I dare try?

If I ever did, or could,
Reach out and ****** his wrist
Would I not ensnare him?
Like severing the flower from her stem,
Wishing to keep hold of her forever,
But just like her petals, he would wither.

No.

I will not tear through these woods that are not my own,
To entwine him around my finger.
He was not made for capture, but to captivate.
This is not a hunt,
It is a game of tag
And I will burn after him
If only for one touch
Before he sprites away again.

A wood elf and his girl
Making love in the forest of your ribcage.
 Mar 2017 skaldspiller
September
only write haikus
for lovers. this one is for
me. i ****** myself.
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