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bennu Feb 2021
You're bold like December
The harvest held fast against nature's cruel hand
Your smile is made
Of fire and sand
Your shoulders are made
Of porcelain and ash

It's springtime when our spectrums align,
And you slide into the crook of my neck.

Then in the daytime, neon rebel blood shows in your veins
Even when your bones ache,
Even when your heart breaks.

True blood, a juggernaut girl
And I wouldn't mess with her unless you want a reason to CRY~
bennu Feb 2021
You're bold like December
The harvest held fast against nature's cruel hand
Your smile is made
Of fire and sand
Your shoulders are made
Of porcelain and ash

You are what you are,
And there's no going back
It's your time to talk
But I'm holding my tongue.

But loose my bad hand, a terrible curse...
You turn to the world
And are not reimbursed
A dignified soldier of love
My sidestepping
Should sneak on by
Like a cat in the night x)
The rhythm stretch on porcelain is just so. It's to remind you you don't quite know her ... ingredients. C:

:P :P :P

I feel like I made this more about me
bennu Jan 2021
Crusty old guitar
Rusty little digits
Twenty six years old
Death is but a ******

I might just be lying
I might just be drunk
I could still catch fire
******* in the trunk
bennu Jan 2021
That's right miss Turner
Who has been hanging on all this time...

She gets it.

What they thought was dead
Will surely come back to life
In an instant of fire
In an instant of life

What they thought was dead isn't dead at all
What they never expected was about to fall

Grave is as graves do
I made this
To make you
Miss Turner *kiss*
bennu Jan 2021
You wanted me
To be on top of that ****
To be electric
Setting fire to your atmosphere
Taking control
Providing your sky with something certain

You wanted me
To be something you need
To be something you see
To be something you greed

But never should I be
Something disagreed
Taking from your meal
Spending all your seed

Spoiling your feed
Loosing all your mead
Never taking heed
To a single thing you need...!
bennu Jan 2021
There are things we can write
With your coccyx as the nib,
Picking you up like a pen by your ribs
Pick you right up and they'll fill you with ink
And give you ample time to think
What
bennu Jan 2021
Death's citadel grows roots into the world
Like the sinking teeth of an infernal dragon

Inside me lives the chance to waste it
Which is more symmetric than good is to good

An infernal, internal dragon

An infernal, internal, eternal dragon

A terrible, horrible, no good, very bad dragon
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