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Roselyn Jan 2019
imagine laying on the woven spread of your lovers bed

head pounding from one too many shots, the morning sun shining just a bit too bright

your mind is fuzzy and you can't remember when their eyes blinked open

corners of lips stained red quirk up

they whisper good morning, leaning in

the world fades and your soul is on fire

electricity shooting through veins, washing away any lingering fatigue

arms envelop you, heads tucked under chins, feet intertwined as you realize that

this is what it all was for
Roselyn Jan 2019
once, i was forsaken.
forever a beggar of scraps
left to salvage by the wolves

oh, how they loved me.

youth dimmed my eyes as they howled
antonyms of innocence crashed to its knees
lost as their fangs dripped venom onto patch-knit jeans
they moaned as i gave way to the fading storm, and
you brought me back to how it was before.

— The End —