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you could say,
are long dirt roads that never end
trotted on by horses
(you can call them men)

Women

you could say,
are cobble stone streets
constantly impaled by stilettoed friends
(you could call them men)

Women

you could say,
are black tar roads
riddled with curves and bends
plowed on by Subarus
(otherwise known as men)

Women

you could say,
are nice footpaths in the park
run on by children
around the age of ten
(often boys that grow up to be men)
I love you as the air escapes
As the blood slows
My heart beat spaced out
I love you, I love you, I love you
As I go
Don't say it's okay
Don't say it's fine
I drag
the heart
you tore apart
into a straight line
Personal space bled
Alone in a crowded room
You are everything
It’s an unarguable truth that loneliness is an addiction.
The Devil draws you in until your brain no longer functions,
He’ll pluck through you like petals on a daisy,
Desert you in your bed and leave you feeling crazy.
Words keep coming, silent without end.
Miserable and loathing your new and soulless friend.
Just last year you were jump roping for heart,
The memory of that day leads to a devastating spark.
Deep in your closet lies a rope,
You jump out of bed and jump for hope.
It caresses your neck until your body folds,
Now fleeing from that closet is a beautiful soul
*I wrote this last year around the time a boy from my old middle school/my sisters current school killed himself. The thought of someone so young committing such a desperate act was and still is absolutely heartbreaking. Unfortunately there is a beautiful/romantic association behind suicide; it gets portrayed as the only way out even when explaining that it isn't. I know it sounds cliche, but truly, bullying is never the way to go. It is cowardly and absolutely unnecessary for both parties.*
i don't get why we choose to fall in love
over and over
when the same hand that pushes us
helps us back up to kick us
& **** us

all the "**** yous"
and screaming
the punching & dreaming
of never falling in love again

but laying in it
without ending up on the ground

because when we scream
only our bodies make a sound
and I know love hurts
but why did it start hitting?
seems improbable
when I think
about how I failed science
and passed so many men
just so you could hold my hand
or cry on my shoulder when your daddy left
or kiss you behind a brick wall
or how my tongue became fingertips
until your skin was all I could feel
and whispering to you how I was worried
that this was it and I was done
but you'd always convince me
I was going no where
that you'd always be the one
I should really stop taking your body as my communion
but oh God
do I remember Jesus every time.

— The End —