50/F/Michigan Writing is a reminder that I'm still alive. A hippie with a gypsies touch. Hollow, trying to embrace the earths saliva. Ask me anything I'm very open and honest. 359 followers / 22.4k words
Stomach full of dandelion knots, we collected in the rain Poetry that feels like bullets tearing my flesh away I lived beneath your bones every day Your words spilled like paint covering me whole I realized I don't like the taste of blood Dislodging myself, I smell words Heartaches first kiss
My passion is vanishing ,splintering on this battlefield I changed my makeup and I fixed my hair I'm grasping at cords and stretch marks With your **** teeth you have me down on my knees
The secrets penetrated the lips of townspeople Painted widow's weeds, now sketched with despair Flames in the cellar, stale with wool pansies Suppressed as weeping willows
Just a shoelace waitress on a strangers speculation Midnight insects squatting in desperation Morphine gasoline on a pinwheel of fixation Shame is placed under every table Still starving for attention
Why do I devour you so? Foundation's of lost years Restraining me refusing to let me go If I were a shield I would draw my sword Mentally defeated, spouting my existence Submerged in hypersomnia
Sleep disorders are so hard to live with. I have missed out on so much. But I carry on that is all I can do. I know that people suffer way worse than this. I'm blessed Peace and love to you all.
Sometimes, when I love you, As you tend to love me back, half-heartedly, I am one with the half-moon. And I am reeling, pulling All the stars to be together, To be with you, when I'm with you, Just to be whole.*
Silent eyelids on galaxies of wings Spinning meteorites entering my tears, into the white scented moon Pockets full of soft kisses and kaleidoscopes strings Weaving stones and heartaches into my muse Spoken through poetic teeth