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π™Έπš πšπš˜πš˜πš” 𝟷𝟼 𝚍𝚊𝚒𝚜
𝚝𝚘 πš πš˜πš›πš” πšžπš™ πšπš‘πšŽ πšŒπš˜πšžπš›πšŠπšπšŽ
πšπš‘πšŽ πš—πšŽπš›πšŸπšŽ
𝚝𝚘 πšœπš’πš πš’πš— πš’πš˜πšžπš› 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚝.
π™·πšŽπš›πšŽ 𝙸 πšŠπš–
πš˜πš— πš–πš’ πš›πšŽπš πšŒπš˜πšžπšŒπš‘
πš˜πš—πšŒπšŽ πš˜πšžπš› πšπš’πš–πšŽ πš–πšŠπšŒπš‘πš’πš—πšŽ,
πšŠπš—πš π™Έβ€™πš– πšœπš’πš™πš™πš’πš—πš πš πš‘πš’πšœπš”πšŽπš’
πš•πš’πš”πšŽ 𝚊 πš—πš˜πš›πš–πšŠπš• πšƒπš‘πšžπš›πšœπšπšŠπš’.
this restless beast
i need to tame
gnawing at my stomach
setting fires to my cerebral
chewing at my throat
begging for attention
this restless beast
always rejects obedience
howling for affection
like a ******* mongrel
if it's voice becomes a whimper
can it be feminine again
i want my makeup to wash off
as more than war paint
i want to feel beautiful
without seeking validation
i want to shake
this restless beast
ruining my relationships
entertaining wicked thoughts
wrecking my sleep schedule
stepping on my neck
i never asked to own
this worn out excuse for a companion
but if it doesn't get lost soon
i'll ******* **** it
I do not wish to be
Your whole world
Your everything

Stand on your own soil
Own your foundation
Love your precious world
That makes up
All the imperfectly perfect
Things that are
So incredibly

Love yourself
Before you ever love me

How I wish I could lay my head
down gently on your thighs,
to make you moan and sigh aloud
and slowly close your eyes.

How I wish I could use my tongue
and give you more than rhyme,
to bring a flush up to your cheek,
of feelings beyond space and time.

How I wish that I could speak
in words of feathered certainty
and so entice your curious mind
to lay down with me for eternity.
Β© Pagan Paul (2017)
For the Muse I have yet to meet.
For the Lady I have yet to undress.
For the Lover I have yet to eat.
For the Goddess I have yet to impress.
I continue searching for you.
I install myself
into your city
that template
           where I hold
      my book
I see you the words
                               go blurry
                           every guy
                    a book
Lord someone
    save me
I let you know me better than anyone else.
No one has ever gotten that close.
You were first to conquer all these secrets.


I wonder if when you see these pictures
You know,
It's just my way of missing you
And having no other way of telling you.
She wore a windbreaker as red
as her parents voting habits,
and smoked American Spirits
as rough as the next-door
skateboarder's hands.

At 18, she was bored by
teen-aged touch,
and looked towards the
thirty-five year-old avant-garde
painter, who meandered in his
sun room, like a soul
pretending to be lost.

At 20, her parents told her
to go to college, to go to
'some place other than here'.
So, she went and had skinny,
Greek fingers with chipped nail-polish,
dip down and inside of her, without
judgement, without thought, and,
with this touch, she felt free.

At 24, she was an undergrad with
an apartment and a guy named 'Blake',
and Blake said Brown and she said State.
And when Blake left, she felt complete
despite losing something meaningful.

And when her story started to go on forever,
her body spread across the pavement like
seeded jam on burnt toast, scraped thin,
without image and without future, lost
inside crevices and cracks, a memory
or thought, wandering nothingness.
It's strange, how after all this time...
You still make me want to strike a match,
Watch the entire world burn,
And salt the ground so that nothing grows.
Erase every memory of us,
Good and bad.
Angry? Me?
I guess you could say that.
Maybe you shouldn't have taken advantage of me.
A wolf with a good heart is still a wolf.
I still have a hard time letting go of the past. I don't forgive easily. And I'm not sure I will until she experiences what she put me through.
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