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Frankie Anderson Oct 2017
Wish I could talk about love
Falling in love, becoming love, someone falling in love w me
how it feels to have someone touch me and it not induce panic or shock or fear, just love, comfort, gushy mushy, how-do-you-like-your-eggs kinda love
Wish I could talk about how much I love them
How it felt meeting them for the first time, getting to know them, touching them for the first time
Know they were mine and that I was theirs for the first time
All of the possible first times
All of mine theirs and all of theirs mine
How hard it would be to say good bye and how amazing it would feel to say hello
I wish I could say that i'll never love another
Pure, unadulterated, Feelings that are felt back
But I can only promise empty touches, false hopes and a kiss once in awhile
Feelings are infinite and fleeting,
Sometimes they are good things
They are bad things
But most times, in my case, they are nothings
Nothings crumpled up on paper and whispered on pillows
Maybe a one time kiss and some heavy petting
Maybe a hand to hold and someone to warm you when you are cold
But nothing more than skin, lips, and hands
Unfinished, but so am i
Jun 2017 · 187
Fire
Frankie Anderson Jun 2017
It's a feeling of fire, a feeling of rage you feel deep within yourself
you feel your bones crack and move and spread warmth throughout your body
You feel like you could just burn up, and the ashes left behind would be the reminisces of you
A feeling of something more than hot
Hotness and warmth and something that stings are singing the inside of you, of your head, your hands are sweating but are cold to the touch
The prickling fear that this won't go away, that you'll forever burn
You won't get to feel calm or cool
You just feel of fire
A fire that is only doused in fear and grows and reaches the tip of your skull
Everything hurts from the tips of your toe nails to the top of your head and there's nothing you can do
But die
But breathe in the gasoline
Breathe in the falling ashes around you
And feed the fire with your fear
You're thirsty for something that will **** the flames but nothing in sight will do the job
You're body may be cold to the touch but the sight of you and the feelings you create are that of a fire full of fear
The fire is once consuming you and reaching all of what you are and inside and out you've become red with heat
Red are your eyes that are the window to your flames
Red are your hands when you can't stop wringing them and moving them from place to place
Red are your lips which were once soft and loving and now jagged with rage
Red is the color that you've now become
Red of the fire filled with fear.

— The End —