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Monique Matheson Jun 2015
my favorite color is
Purple on my skin and
Red on my cheek
Reminders of control
The sound of gripping leather
Singing sweetly in my ear
The wet fear from Your eyes that turn yellow with livid flame
Warm brushing past my bottom of
What holds Your treasure from me.

Swimming into the ivory depth of
Every fiery star in the known universe from my
Vivid imagination
Illusions that I wake up from by every
Pinch of my *******
Bend and tear me
Fallen scraped knees at Your feet
Where i belong
i’m still with You, i think.

But if i lose myself in grey clouds
The shock of Your lightning
Will free me.
Monique Matheson Jun 2015
Fresas partidas en la cocina
Rojas y dulces como cuando
Me cojes con sentimiento

Las ventanas no se habren
Cortinas sucias
Con diseños de manzanas
Mordidas, secas de su jugo de vida
Asi como ayer

No entra luz en este silencio tan
Medida.
Monique Matheson Jun 2015
It's like laying on a white bed
Pillows pushed aside
My hair tainting the purity of the sheets
And you beside me
And you beside me
Your pupils ******* my reality into a vortex
Of sweet drops of
Coconut oil
I've fallen in your deep sea and
All the frightening creatures still couldn't
Push me away.
Monique Matheson Jun 2015
Ahora me despierto sentiendo
Los violines tocando franticamente
Las pestañas mojadas
Terror en cada uno de mis dedos
Cada pensamiento un pecado

Que si no fuera por esa
Puta desgraciada
No estuviera en mi sillon
Queriendo, queriendo
Saber que quiero
Y no tengo el poder para
Cambiar tu caida
Pero logro intentar, siempre intentar, amor

En toda tu vida
Los dias que falten
Sera una sola mosca en la pared,
Secando tus lagrimas.
Monique Matheson Jun 2015
Me deje ser vulnerable
Abierta
De las piernas hasta las
Cajas de memorias que
Me quemavan el cerebro
Me deje convertir en
Agua a tus manos

Y ahora estoy sentada
Jorobada en la esquina de mi cuarto
No se como cerrarme otra vez
Ni con pegamento
Puedo volver
Al inicio.
Monique Matheson Jun 2015
When i hear the electric strings
The strained throats
The memory of You turns into
Liquid form that bathes me.
Monique Matheson Jun 2015
He stabs me with words
Detaching each letter from the one before
He sharpens the ends
With a hot iron sword
And ****** my heart
Just enough
Just enough

He won't let me die
Each moment alone
The silence between your words
My ears are bleeding from your
Pitch dark memories

An image to
**** for.
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