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 Nov 2015 Stella Cleere
R
lines no matter how bold
no matter how thick or thin
can always be bent or crossed
with just the right amount of pressure
or negotiation and talk
sometimes flirtation

maybe you've known each other
for weeks, months maybe even years
and you follow the lines
trying real hard to stay on your side of it
because it's what you consider
comfortable, acceptable and familiar

but sometimes you lose focus
and your vision isn't sharp
you know it's not the right thing to do
but you crossed the line
just to experience what it feels like
to be on the other side of it

this is where the complications start
you don't know how to be back
to your own side of the line
because now you know how it feels like
to be on the other side with the other person
and you won't admit this but you liked it there

now your mind is racing with possibilities
of what if's and what could have been's
but you know it's wrong and it's weird
so you went back to your own side
but the lines are all blurry now
and your mind's all messed up

it feels like you did the right thing to do
by going back to your side
but you feel this emptiness in your chest
because even though you are back
you left your heart on the other side
and the emptiness is killing you.
She was my warm cup of tea
at midnight after a nightmare.
She was my fresh from the dryer blanket.
She was my favorite book,
a new glasses cleaning cloth.
She was sugar for my coffee.
She was beautiful,
But I could never say
I loved her.
I have a tendency to change the pronouns
in the poems I write.
I love him.
It used to be her.
He makes me weak.
She makes my heart flutter
a staccato panic against my ribs.
It's time I told the truth in my writing.
 Nov 2015 Stella Cleere
S
Bisexual
 Nov 2015 Stella Cleere
S
You're so greedy
They said
Pick a side
They said
You're such a ****
They said
Their words like knives
My blood spilling freely like insults from their mouths
I can't choose
I'll never choose
To choose would be to lose half of myself
All I want is to love freely
How can you hate my for that?
How can you cut me with your words and expect me to heal?
Nothing is wrong with me
Nothing is wrong with me except the deep cuts your words leave on my heart
I can't stop the bleeding;
The only way to stop it is to choose a side, but that would leave an even deeper scar
But
those knives were not aimed for me
No
they were aimed for the word above my head
What I call myself
My own label
Bisexual
I'm just the person below the word
My body taking the hits
Bruised and bleeding tears of frustration and sadness
The knives will not stop
Make them stop
Before my blood runs drier than the sand in the hourglass that is the only one that knows how much longer I can take the pain
Make them stop,
before it's too late
Tis a curse to be gifted
by the muses.
Why is it that artists go mad,
and poets are broken,
writers get drunk,
and musicians find themselves
smoking in the back alleys?
Humanity argues over the most inept subjects
I'm convinced that we like to converse in circles
And try to tell ourselves we're advancing when we're still arguing over the most irrelevant things to ever grace the earth.
So many people fight over pointless things lol
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