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So I'll let my love for you abundantly flow,
I'll feel the same wherever you go.
Still sweeping the ash from where my heart sparked alive
under the stars,
under the stars.
My chest is sore,
you've made me raw,
I can't break out of this skin.
Let me go, let me go, let me go.

I am frozen in the vastness,
so far from you.

Though the bitter taste in my mouth might fade,
I'll miss you, I'll miss you. Always
your skin in the moonlight.
Always madness.
My skin is not mine
I am repulsed by my flesh
In the dark
You cover me
I disappear
We blend into each other
I am repulsed by my flesh
In the dark

How can you stand my scent?
If I hold you at arms length
Will you see how I rot?
Will you see how I burn
for gratification,
for validation,
for a sense of worth?

I ache to be awakened
from this state of ghostly death,
for fingertips to spring alive
the paleness of skin, numbness of breath

I cannot touch myself
I cannot stare in the glass
Or I will become a murderer
I am repulsed by my flesh
In the dark
You loom over me,
My cooling shadow.

My gentle storm,
You submerge me.

I disperse as tiny grains
In your ocean,
Washed up from the sand
Where I once lay as a stone.

You, protector of my tenderness,
Shelter me from the heat above.

You loom over me,
My cooling shadow.
When I lie with you
I breathe with you.

Then we are bound together
In the silence.

Then I am the vines around you.

Then we shudder together
Under shivering sunlight

Then we are alive together
In the warmth of our shrine.
clawing between soft sheets I find your large hands
clasping through the gaps to find my softer inner parts

little do you know I am crumbling
though I give you the power to tear
what I forbid myself
to surrender

Create art with my ****** mess.
I know you never will

It is sad that you are gone
but I am waiting,
gluing my self back together,
trying to find the bits and pieces
I've shed in this process
of stabbing and
grabbing and itching newness
of youthful closeness
and the fusion of two.
  May 2015 Lucy Christine Gray
Give me all your pain,
your faults, your anger. I'll keep
them like they're my own
I want all your madness
scooped up in my palm

I want all your pain
pressed against my lips

I want all your wounds
under my fingertips

I want all your hardships
softened in my arms
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