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i don't know,
how to write you in a way,
that makes you as safe as my childhood home.
i can cover you in a blanket of verbs,
i can shroud you in adjectives until it hurts,
i can fill you with nouns until you feel chained to the ground.
it seems as if there isn't even one thing i'm incapable of doing,
and then you ask me to paint you pretty.
with what, darling?
i made your eyes out of all the monstrous things i've seen,
and your legs from the darkest places i've been.
i crafted your bones out of the metal that used to cling to my teeth,
and your blood from the multicolored ink that helped me write all my gut-wrenching things.
i gave you a heart from the graveyard down the street,
and your eyes from the streetlights where we used to meet.
i formed your feelings from the jar of fireflies atop my dresser,
and your lips from the secrets i held with my english professor.
aren't you pretty?
because you look beautiful to me.
*(even if i shaped you from all my worst qualities)
you fit me better than my favorite sweater
what's the proper etiquette for falling in love?
is it hushing lips and tripping over lungs?
is it squinting eyes and falling falling falling in mud?
because here we go down and down again,
but everyone's doing it, My Lovely Flowery Friend.
if i dive in between your legs,
and find other bodies there,
does that mean i should run in toxic fear?
are we supposed to dry out from licking up all these tears?
if i fall into your arms,
while they were open for someone else,
does that mean we're in love?
are we supposed to spit on the floor and call it ***?
you said you've done this before,
you said it would be fun,
but when you've got me trying to wring my head dry,
of all my pretty girl lies,
i become less and less sure if this is love.
tell me, please tell me,
is this proper etiquette?
should i be building mountains out of my bones so you can touch the moon?
should i constantly carry around these pillows in case someone else makes you swoon?
i don't know what i'm doing,
but you say you do,
so i guess i'll bury my heart so it doesn't get broken by you you you.
there's this tune i found that makes me think of you somehow
i gave my heart away to a traveler in ****** shoes,
he had pretty eyes that made up for his pretty lies,
and now i don't know what to do.
i gave my soul away to a girl that said she worked for god,
she had oil in her hair but i didn't really care,
but she wasn't at all what i'd thought.
i gave my dreams to an artist i met down the street,
he knew what buttons to press to make me scream,
and now i'm not so sure that was a good thing.
i fell for a rose i thought was thriving,
but she was wilted, she was dying,
and i left quick as lightning.
i gave my limbs to a walking light beam,
he was made of this steel that tightly wrapped around me,
but these indents in my bones are a little too extreme.
i gave my poetry to the monster under my bed,
she crawled in and promised in the morning we'd be wed,
and now there's no rings but a shadow begging me to turn off the sun instead.
i'm just a moment, so don't let me pass you by
 Jan 2018 Tina Marie
penn
Beneath
 Jan 2018 Tina Marie
penn
Daffodils  are  yellow,
Daisies  are  white,
Your  soul  may  be  dark,
But  your  smile  is  bright* .

Your  hands  may   be  gentle,
Your  eyes  may  be  kind,
But  lurking  beneath,
Is  a  sick  twisted  mind.

What  made  you  this  way ?
What  shattered  your  soul ?
What  chipped  you  away,
Made  you  part  of  no  whole ?

You're  missing  some  pieces,
They're  scattered  about,
You'll  never  find  them  all,
Of  this  there's  no  doubt.

Forever  broken,
You'll  never  fit  in,
Because  hiding  beneath,
Is  your  soul  filled  with  sin...
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