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Rebekah Guindi Dec 2018
I was born with the softest skin
Shoot daggers from your eyes
And I will bleed to death
Rebekah Guindi Dec 2018
Soak in holy water's bath until my skin is wrinkled
Scrub at my skin until I am raw
I am unclean but dirt is nowhere to be found
Rebekah Guindi Oct 2018
your eyes
held the universe
and I traveled
into space
deeper and
d e e p e r
into your
ultramarine - cosmos
only to realize
I was just
a speck of dust
your eyes
Rebekah Guindi Oct 2018
your love
slowly became filtered,
turning the rawest
of honey
to the most
artificial of syrups,
burning my throat as I swallow

                                                                               -why do I keep drinking?
Rebekah Guindi Oct 2018
unwavering love;
your wavering voice
c a u g h t
in the eye of my storm

                                 (oh how I hope my torrents don't sweep you away)
Rebekah Guindi Oct 2018
She settles in your heart
like paint
in the fine lines of
your shirt
never fully-able
to wash her out


                    (the stains: a comforting reminder of what was once there)
Rebekah Guindi Oct 2018
Grievance --
a rotten way to be wounded.
all bandaged up, but still hurting.

To hell with people -- I say I'm a
Rotten Painter
all alone
no more whispered words to color the still-empty canvas

Don't be sentimental
You made me ill
I felt like hell

But Hell is warm and the
flames are comforting
This poem is about my struggle with accepting that my beloved voices are gone (due to medication)
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