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Lina Oct 2021
The sadness has dissipated.
Not even fear remains.
It has been replaced
With absolutely nothing.
People ask how I'm doing
And I say, "Better today."
But I'm not. Raw emotion was
Replaced. With emptiness.
I'd rather feel everything
Than nothing at all.
Written a couple of weeks after I had a miscarriage and a subsequent breakup a day after my loss. Happy to say I’ve come a long way since I wrote this poem…still hurt sometimes though.
Lina Sep 2021
I'm tired of being responsible.
I miss the days of my youth
It wasn't a shock when I didn't show up.
I was always moody, blue.

I miss spending the day in bed.
Reminiscing, crying, *******.
Acting wild, getting myself
into trouble. Constantly running.

Midnight skinny dipping with men
whose mouths i'd never taste again.
nights with people whose names i had
to write down so i wouldn't forget.

it's not being an adult...
i'm fine being grown.
alcohol, drugs, ***
no one can tell me no

its the spontaneity i miss
the ability to freely
do things i shouldnt
innocent ignorant silly

i miss being wreckless
Lina Nov 2020
I can't sell this house
That you forcefully entered.
I have to live in it...
The scene of your crime.
I can't drive away
When memories are too vivid.
Because it is my body,
My home, that you violated.

I'm reminded of you
When I look down and see
A body that does not
Seem to belong to me.
When I sit down, I remember  
How the warm, sticky blood
Felt between my legs
As you scraped in and out.

Car keys in my ignition...
The same ones you took from me.
My purple dress...
The one I begged to keep on.
A friend's apartment I can't go to
Because it's in the same complex.
The skirt I never wore again
Because you said I was "asking for it."

Dream catchers, night lights,
Melatonin, medication...
None of them have stopped
The nightmares of you.
How can I explain to a lover
Why I cry in my sleep?
Or that it's not his fault
I cringe from his touch?

No, this crime...
I can never escape from.
And no soap or scrub
Can wash away the film
You left on my body.
A film so thin, it's invisible
To everyone.
But me.
I wrote this in January 2017 about being *****.
Lina Jan 2017
If you go slow, you'll feel
How my body reacts
To your gentle touches.

If you close your eyes,
You'll feel my back arch
And the shivers on my skin.

My moans are softer,
But even more desperate.
I beg for more tenderness.

Fast is physically good
For you, but gentle
Is emotional for me.
Lina Jan 2017
My hair, knotted in your clenched fist,
Passion. Pure and raw.

Your taste, on my lips, in my mouth.
Skin. Bodies glistening.

My scent around your mouth,
Moans. Soft, desperate.

Your warmth fills my body.
My reward. "Good girl."
Lina Sep 2016
Friendships are more difficult
Because you can't find an easy way
To separate love from lust.
A hug is never just that...
Because for just a split second,
You can feel the connection, the trust.

You project an air of sensuality.
You can't help it...
It's in your talk, walk, the way you move.
Your rawness scares them.
It makes you unique, different.
And they're left craving only you.

They think it's a good thing
Because you're blessed with the body.
You could make men fall at your feet.
But you don't.
Kind, gentle, soft, you're not of this world.
Paradise is where your mind and body meet.

You will always be a heartbreak away
From the anger men will impose
On your delicate soul.
In the end, you'll be alone
Because you fear intimacy.
My Perfect Angel, whose heart he stole.
Inspired by the woman who has it all, but can't give to all.
Lina Sep 2016
She was my own Atropos.
Eyes dark like belladonna's berry.
Her breath gave me life,
Her shears were slowly closing.

I waited every night for Atropa Belladonna,
But flowers only bloom by day.
I knew that she could never be
Mine Deadly Nightshade.

So I let her go. By day, she is another's.
But only 'til the midnight hour...
When I am hers and she is mine.
And the night is forever ours.
Inspired by the Deadly Nightshade, one of my favorite flowers, and an almost lover.
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