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i'm sitting on windowsills like they did
and now i'm in the same trap
a small room of a universe/
purple fairy lights and the warm glow,
i'm ready to go home to the sky.
a soft death and bad habits to kick
from touching myself to recreate physical touch I don't receive to
crying over the friends in my head and
writing daisy petal eulogies on a deathless flowerbed.
sleeping on them like they're still living.
I'm alone and it's the same as death=
just let me die.
071317
boys with big hands to hold me or a guitar.
to reach around my waist or to caress the keys of a piano.
quiet, soft spoken deep voiced boys with a celestial moan saved in their chest
and the warmest timbre when they say my name.
a boy with an ear to my chest and a hand on my thigh to tap the beat of my heart on chilly summer afternoons.
a boy like mine
 Jul 2017 blue mercury
Alina
A universe confined
In the border of our bodies
Mind, heart, soul
Galaxies of sizes
Beyond any comprehension
We could try to dream of
To look and wonder above
Is to float rather than drown
In the vastness
A 3 - dimensional actuality
In a 2 - dimensional perspective
we call the heavens
Even though they are just ***** of gas
We are universes
Not trapped in flesh and bone
But cradled and secure
In our temporary yet constantly changing
Bodies
Broken window
I’m the stone she put through the glass
Of her own room
I will not default on my blame
But what of the hand I was rested in
Ever so innocent
Weighing on broken shoulders of guilt
Fractured to shards
And the stone prays for miracles
May she learn, unharmed
What if we were too careless and self-absorbed or selfrighteous, to learn from our mistakes?
What if we loved drama more than we did ourselves and our loved ones?
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