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I wonder what she’s doing today
In her life that I have no part of.
Does she ever wonder what I do all day
Or how often I may think of her.

Does she go about her day
An orphan by her careful choice,
Getting what she needs from friends
And free from my side’s family tree.

Does she meet the mothers of her friends
Comparing them to me
In the distorted image I hold in her mind
That paints me as some toxic monster.

She says I chose this husband over her -
I thought that I could have them both.
It seemed that way at the beginning
A little anger and then peace.

But then a shrink came on the scene
And everything unraveled.
Her every ill became big issues
And I was made the villain.

She said she’s getting married
I’ve never  met the  man
I know I’m not invited
And she has not told me when.

Her day of celebration
Will be my day of tears.
Another piece of heartbreak
To last me through the years.
ljm
Another paean to the same old heartbreak.
I heard your voice thru my desperate screams
So I clawed thru my ravaged soul
Just to stand by your side
I admired my own carnage
And handed you my heart
Possibly a work in progress
more often than they should
my eyes land on you

they see your hair and flood my fingers
with memories of snaking through it

they see your neck and my lips tingle
yearning to kiss it again

they see your waist and my arms long
to wrap themselves around it
to breathe in the comfort
to dwell in the warmth

your hands
your laugh
your eyes
your clothes
your every move
they torture me to see
but i cannot look away

i shiver with want
but watch in silence

just too far away to hold you
for if i could
i’d never let go again

- p. winter
what more can i gain from pretending it does not slowly **** me to be in the same room as him
kiss me once again
sing to me
touch me
eagerly
grab me
i beg you
kiss me once again
pull me in
don’t speak
whisper
find me
take me home
kiss me once again

- p. winter
penny presents: the most generic poem ever written
 Feb 2022 Akira Chinen
Wanderer
Feeling marked and wicked
Silk skin stretched tight across the starving pain of my wanting
Stretching. Breathing. Breaking. Needing.
Ease this tension I must. I must.
The wet rage of the Shenandoah between my thighs
A soft rumble in the distance heralds the coming storm
I can almost feel you in me
Aching for you to fill the slick hollow that I keep hidden
Need you closer, closer, closer
Please
Begging so pretty against the distance
Please
 Jul 2021 Akira Chinen
Blake
Oh he the wounded wounder,
With wounds that bled on us all,
His Daughters and Sons,
Now bounder to the flogger,
Cursed to always follow that whip's call.
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