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I'm avoiding the shower,
because I don't want to watch the remains of you circle down the drain.
I'll have to watch your scent peel from my skin and disappear into a greedy steamy cloud.
I'll look down at my body and miss the way your fingers looked holding the notches in my hips, and then it will remind me of the view from over your shoulder as you hold me deeper into your chest, and that will make me mad with the thought of your face buried in my hair.
I'll wash my neck and accidentally pretend my hand was yours thoughtfully caressing the nape, and then I'll lean my head on my hand and pretend it was your shoulder and linger there a little too long.
I'm avoiding the shower because, I've come to love the dirt cozied beneath my fingernails like I am beneath your arms.
 Mar 2016 Rose Cornicelli
hkr
ribs
 Mar 2016 Rose Cornicelli
hkr
she says report, report, report it
i’m trying to tell her
how difficult it was
to even disclose to her
how my ribs
turned into seatbelts.
I am the plague, a ghostly vapor
My soul bleeds blackness on the paper
If you're looking for a happy write
Don't read mine you won't get that sight
What you'll see is a glimpse of a spirit in total darkness
You'll learn just what the cost is
As a child thrown to the brink
And time and time again I sink
Like the platypus, I'm Gods little joke
Again and again I choke
On all the cruelty throughout the years thrown on me
No one hangs around to truly see
Beneath the scars I'm only human
Despite the blackness and confusion
My soul cries out
At times it a hushed small shout
At other's a battle cry
As I pick myself up and again I try
But my day's are growing short
For I am feeling out of sorts
Out of patients, out of hope
I can't even begin to cope
I feel I just might throw in the towel
I'm trying to figuring out how
My heart beats with dissonance—
the kind of clash that grits teeth
and twists pretty faces.
Still, she pulses, unforgiving,
to her own imbalance,
aware of her existence;
aware that the definition of music
is infinite,
and her song will never beg
to be understood.
© Bitsy Sanders, March 2016
I would give up my sight,
So you could see how beautiful you are.
I would give up my hearing,
So you could hear all the nice things people say about you.
I would give up my heart,
So you could love your self.
I would give up my voice,
So you could say you love your body.
I would give up my mind,
So you could think about the good things and not the bad.
I would give up every part of me if it would help you.
The things I can't show anyone are  flooding my head .. I'm lost in this fake world, where only what's visible to the eye  is true.  Would you be able to expose the truth? Or will it consume you too?
You're also in this fake beautiful world 
In a world that's a little too beautiful for my taste, my heart is rupturing by its reflection. The mirror image reflects what you see to be a disgrace..
 In this world You are secretive and confined. There are things only visible to my eyes.
You are the reverse of the truth everything seems normal in this abnormal fake world.
This place is already a gestalt illusion that you created for me..its not real don't worry your secrets remains safe with me. If I expose it all, the memories will shoot 
down the present and you will be lost..so I will stay in this fake world you created for me this is where I belong.
 Mar 2016 Rose Cornicelli
Shana
I feel like I'm breaking,
No,
I've been broken,
I feel like I'm slipping,
No,
I've already fallen,
I feel like I'm dying,
No,
I'm already dead inside,
I feel like crying,
No,
These tears are already dry.
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