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Sometimes
you miss segments of her
and you wonder if it is
due to how she revealed bits and pieces of herself

It amazes me how...

On some days you take out all the blankets;
spread them across the bed and bury yourself
In warmth and then in hiding

While

On other days
you lay bare and daring -
unclothed, uncovered, unashamed

But perhaps this makes you feel closer to her...
If Life was black and white
I'd be dating you, right
for we are both lonely
I can tell from the melancholy
in the pieces you write.
We're both broken
and we have enough
words to fix each other
If only love was red and pink
the flooding passion you have
*would not only end in ink.
Sometimes I wish I had done things otherwise
I wish I had just cheered you when you supposed
that you loved me, I wish I had just led you on…
But I don’t regret, even if I had the chance to rewind
the clock, I’d still guarantee that we wouldn’t work
because it’s not only true but also the right thing to do…
You are a holy grail every lad wishes they would get
and am just a lad you would soon forget
I just protected you from the guilt of having pulled the
trigger by taking the bullet out of the chamber
even before you learnt how to use the rifle.
Let the thunders,
Storm
I am starting to think that perhaps this should have been the beginning of my 'Storm collection' but then the first prose/poem I posted titled Storm was ages ago...

The 'Storm collection' is probably going to be a weekly thing. I will title them *Storm* and an additional roman figure each time so that you can follow the sequence. I hope you like it. Do let me know what you think. Love and light!
She will kiss me
And I will taste uncertainty…

As I kissed her back
She will want to
Rip my clothes off
Yet kiss me worse
Than she kissed her ex-boyfriend
Because
She thinks it was when
She pulled his lip
He realised,
She is needy

Wanting to fulfil
Her needs…

I will kiss her
And she will taste fear…

As she kisses me back
I will want to bite
Her bottom lip
But will decide not to
As she tamed me,
I can’t reveal the wild
Left in me
Cause in this bedroom
All that will be
Left is me
On the left-hand side
Having done nothing right

She wants to love me
But thinks she needs not

I want to love her
But I think I have no entitlement
Whatsoever over her

On my bed,
She sleeps on the right-hand side,
Closest to the door
For she knows
She will leave eventually…

On her bed,
I sleep on the left-hand side,
Furthest from the door,
And
Closer to her heart

We don’t make love.
I don’t think we ever will.
Prophesy? Mhh...
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