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Crush me,
Push me to the floor,
And force my,
Bleeding knees upon,
The splintered wood,
You tore apart,
With heartfelt lust
And let our brackets,
Slowly rust.

what we could be,

Just turn to dust.
Scribble
He will never,
Fill your lungs,
With sweetness.

He will never,
Hold your,
Aching hand.

He will never,
Mend the,
broken pieces.

He will never,
Learn to,
understand
(I'm sorry I can't think of anything to write recently)
Can you run,
Your softened fingers,
Along the outskirts,
Of my brittle bones.

Push them down,
Until they jut out,
And pierce through,
My cracking skin.

Can you hold,
My head under,
The murky depts,
Of darkened water.

Sew my bleeding,
Lips together,
And make sure,
I cannot breathe.
You can't hold the torrent,
Of salty water,
Captive.

You can't keep it all,
Locked up,
Inside.

You can't stop the hidden,
Tides from,
Rising.

You can't think,
So let go,
*Just cry.
I cannot,
Soar through the air,
And fly freely,
Across the thermal,
Winds.

My outstretched hands
Cannot delve into,
The rain clouds,
And disperse,
The ever growing,
Fractals of grey.

Water droplets,
Causing my skin,
To concave.
Leaving me limp,
Exceedingly fragile.
My bones,
Crumbling under,
The pressure.

It's as if,
I am your paper plane,
Left lying,
In the murky,
Puddle water.

*Daunghting realms,
Of forgetful delight,
Causing me,
Too all but,
disintegrate.
I wish I was more,
than a second thought,
If a thought at all.

I wish I was more,
Than a safety net,
To catch you if you fall.

I wish you'd care,
Even though,
I'm always there.

I wish you'd understand,
Take your place,
And hold my hand.

I wish I was more,
than a second thought,
If a thought at all.

I wish you'd notice me,
But instead,
I feel so small.
I am just a second thought,
If a thought at all .
You bought me sunflowers last Saturday
because you like the yellow orchestra we can
listen to, but you do not have to direct.
It plays a private concert only for you.
I play a few notes here and there too,
but nothing can compare to sunflowers.

I compare lots of things to
flowers,
like your eyes.
You do something to my insides
I cannot explain
in a metaphor to flowers.

You planted a gilded seed.
It grew faster than any ****;
more delicious than homemade irish mead.

Sun shining, birds chirping, children playing-
all of this-
sounds like life’s decaying
because you’re not next to me.

You make oxygen more than a box on the periodic table.

I’m not suggesting I’m unable
to perform tasks without you.
I’m used to ashes in my coffee cup.
Your presence seems to open up
cold sunflowers.
You set ablaze the sun’s powers.
I could go on like this for hours
about the love you built;
iridescent solid sunflowers
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