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olivia young Sep 2013
i like to twist
and distort myself.
studying my bones.

i like to stretch up,
to count each, individual
rib.

i like to place my hands,
in the hollows of my hip bones
and pinch.

i like to feel
that deep, empty pit
where my stomach should be.

it's not there.
nothing's there.
and soon enough i won't be either.
olivia young Jul 2013
artificial feelings overflow;
flooding the relationship I've held closely,
for so long that I don't know how it would feel without it.

artificial words overflow;
out of my mouth and between my lips,
all of them out of an already engrained habit.

"i promise",
promises that i never plan to keep.
describing feelings that i lack the ability to feel.

instead stealing;
using the words of friends,
the ones they've whispered to me about being in love.

or creating;
stringing already claimed lyrics and quotes together,
orchastrating a symphony of the feelings that i claim to feel myself.

becoming a romantic;
and yet somehow managing not to give it all up,
to fall in love the way that i describe as i stare into his eyes.

lying knowingly;
and somehow not knowing,
that this whole time it has been for company.

He; my companion.
Myself; his dearest love.
(c)jilliant

— The End —