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Coral May 2014
So maybe he touched my soul
And claimed it was old
Stole it
With honest intent
To never return it to my body

So maybe he touched my hips
And sank his teeth into my lips
Ripped them
With honest intent
To never hear me speak

So maybe he drank my tears
And extracted every fear
Before walking
With honest intent
To leave me dehydrated
Coral May 2014
Don't smash the glass between your fingers
Don't allow open wounds
So that the smell of your blood lingers
Only to empty every room

Silence the little girls mind
Silence every thought so she is soothed
Lock that little girl inside
So she is convinced that the lies are truth

***** ears and ***** words
Revolve around nothing but a ***** world
Coral Apr 2014
i cant forget
the juice of his lips
his touch on my hips
my apologies, but
a list full of wishes
brought me to this
of a gentle spring kiss
spring kiss poem poetry short expression emotion love
Coral Apr 2014
Heavy breathing
Trembling knees
In the darkness
I could not see

Eyelash to cheek
Hearts heavy and weak
*In the darkness
I could not leave
Coral Apr 2014
ask me what i think about poetry
i never think about poetry
sometimes more often than others
words will creep into my skull
and dance around my soul
they'll bicker with each other
and grasp at each others hair
until i am forced to release them
from the damp of my fingertips
and exhale them
like the dense clouds of smoke
that they are
Coral Apr 2014
I wanted to be the wind.

I wanted to be the wind flowing through each strand of his hair. I wanted to be the moon, bathing him in my light. I wanted to be his wisdom. I wanted to be the blush in his cheeks. The chill that traveled down his spine and the warmth of his soul. I wanted to be the itch underneath his skin when his thoughts were troubled. I wanted to be his consolation; and his isolation. I wanted to be the blur in his drunken vision. I wanted to be his dreams. I wanted to be his fixation in the night sky and the sweet seduction of his daylight. I wanted to be the plant that he watered with his kindness. I wanted to be the glass that tasted his lips, the breath that escaped his lungs and the oxygen that flowed through his blood. The stardust sticking to the walls of his veins. I wanted to be his lingering melancholy. I wanted to be the tears that once had the chance to live inside his eyelids. I wanted to be every door handle that his fingertips caressed. I wanted to be the saliva resting on his tongue. I wanted to be each and every heartbeat that kept him alive for a moment longer.
Can you understand?
Because I can’t.

I wanted to be the life that he questioned, the life that left him speechless. I wanted to be the information that he craved.

I wanted to be everything.
I wanted to be her.
I wanted to be me.
Coral Apr 2014
i miss the way
his fingertips would wash my skin with flames
and how his eyelids
evaporated when i whispered his name.
at night i dream
that he is flowing through my veins
and in the sunlight
i long for a silent brain
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