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strtyma Nov 2018
He drew elaborately but never nicely.
He drew flowers, cigarettes, and tears.

He drank elaborately but he never cried.
He drank beer but never flavored strawberry.

He collected his empty cigarette packets in his drawer,
like I collected the broken hearts and beaten skeletons of lost lovers in my closet.

In his black car, I looked down at the city lights at night,
while he looked in my eyes.

I let him touch my body and I let him touch my mind,
parts of me no one has ever touched or seen.
He let me delve in the tunnels where he hid his feelings, nightmares and dreams.

I never counted the days.
He took me to a zone of another time.

His upper lip was as scarred as his mind.
His eyebrows were softly arched trails for my thumbs.
His eyes were as dark as he wanted his soul to seem.
The darkness appeared on his skin only in the shape of a black tattoo of a rose that I’ve touched but never kissed.
Perhaps others have seen sparks of the little but strong light deep inside his heart,
but only I felt it with my hands and let it drown me.
Only I felt his warm tears rolling down my own cheeks.

The first time he said he loved me was the last time we talked.
He was in tears and in pieces.
And then he left me peace-less.

He was the only boy I haven’t told about love
even though he was the only person my heart had learned to love.
strtyma Nov 2018
My feelings a temple
My body a shrine
In your honor

Carve your secrets with your fingers deep into my skin

Light the candles in my eyes with your raging flames

Teach me the anthem of your name for me to sing
for me to scream
in a voice of sheer emotion

Touch me with your Midas hands
make me glow like gold
make me hard like gold

Hold me with chains of sapphires and emeralds so I never leave

Hold me with chains of sapphires and emeralds so you never grieve

Arms lifted, eyes wide, lips plumped, hair pulled, skin smothered

Watch me beg you for everything but mercy
strtyma Jun 2018
My neck is sore tonight
I don’t know why
I can’t sleep
I don’t know why
The people who made my heart full are dead
The people who made my heart empty are dead
I should be able to sleep

I want to be held
But I don’t want the people I know to hold me
I want to cry
But only in front of a complete stranger

Do I miss him?
Do I miss her?
Even though they watered my sorrow?

I miss everyone when I’m lonely

My life is empty
No goals
No games
No pleasure
No purposes
No love
No lovers
No feelings
No rhythm
No rhyme
Nothing at all

But yet here I am
Overwhelmed with tears

                                             hold me

My neck is sore tonight
I’ll get it eventually
strtyma Jun 2018
Being the bad guy in someone’s story doesn’t necessarily make you a bad person.
You’re not a bad person. ♡
strtyma May 2018
cry in my arms
they wait outside
I’m still by you’re side, but what have you done

cry in my arms
and close your eyes
but don’t fall asleep until they’re gone

cry in my arms
I’m holding you tight
I don’t understand why do they scream

cry in my arms
I won’t say a word
just please tell me about what do you dream

cry in my arms
break and shout
do whatever you need to feel alright

cry in my arms
I’ll stroke your hair
forget everything; I’m here tonight

cry in my arms
you’re not alone tonight
strtyma May 2018
How many times does a person die throughout one lifetime?
strtyma May 2018
She drew people all the time, but if she’s asked to draw herself, she’d leave the page blank.
I wrote this last winter when I was angry...
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