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Phia 1d
One by one
the list gets longer.
Promises of continuity
turn into emotional tourism.
The word "goodbye"
has built a permanent home
behind my teeth.
But despite the familiarity,
I am still left with a bitter taste.
Alone, I choke on the silence
as I sit in the presence
you once filled
wondering what the hell
is so wrong with me
that no one ever stays
ilias Jul 31
The sun warms my salty skin
and my pores open to let your love in.
I feel as beautiful as the ocean,
I am my greatest muse.
Today was a good day darling, see,
I have captured every second of my daydreaming,
pinned those very pictures to my wall.

And you wonder why I never get out of bed, though I keep talking about the colour palette of my romantic days.
Your wind has not shifted - but my winter has come. You can’t hear the children in me cry.

Suffocating happens through minor incidents like your softly spoken words searching for an affectionate listener.
I cannot breathe, my god, don‘t you understand?
Winter has come, and I am trapped in a fourteen-year-old‘s body trying to figure out where she went wrong.
It has been cold for a decade and the sun still burns holes in my chest.
I do not need you to understand, for you are my sun, my light, my temple. I need you to see the shadows in which I wander, the orphans I have left behind -
My skin has weathered, and I cannot find the right sunscreen to care for it.
Chloe Jul 12
I know you’ve just gone
but I miss you already
Oh, why not just stay
until I’m all done?

Not meant to be a lover,
but call me your concubine
to meet your needs
as well as mine

Oh, come into me
in the flesh, in the flesh
I want to feel meat
in the flesh, in the flesh

I know I’ve been here before
but I forget already
why I’ve now come
to feel this again

I never wanted a friend
I waddle around
asking, “are you my lover?”
Two birds of a feather fly on

Oh, come into me
in the flesh, in the flesh
I want to feel meat
in the flesh, in the flesh

Oh, why are you here?
In my flesh, in my flesh
I want to feel it
I want to feel

Oh, come into me
in the flesh, in the flesh
I want to feel it
I want to heal

I know you’ve just gone
but I miss you already
Why not just stay?
yāsha Jun 22
my mother shoved words into my mouth
she fed me whenever i cried
and as the obedient kid that i was,
i learned to nibble on every word
and swallowed them as i should.
now that i'm older,
my stomach has ran acid
ーit burns my chest and i would still feel them
foam inside my mouth as if
every word were told just yesterday.
how can i truly love my mother
if she couldn't feed me
when i was hungry for something else?
i cried again with my heart wide open
as my knees wobble in fear
of how exposed i was in front of her.
but this time,
i guess she couldn't hear me enough.
it was silentーshe couldn't feed me anything,
for not a single word left her mouth.
she watched me intently
as i detach the cord from both of our bodies.
     i wasn't the daughter she loved anymore,
     but she was still the mother i loved.
Lukai Mar 9
Every time someone leaves me
it feels like they’ve taken a dagger straight to my heart
It isn’t a fast motion but slow and painful
The suffering prolonged.
It isn’t made out of metal, but wood
When it’s pulled out of my body  
Each time, they leave behind pieces of themselves,
splinters
I wonder how many I’ve collected?
Im sure by now I can create a dagger if my own.
Lukai Mar 8
I like people who hurt me.
I promise I don't enjoy the pain they put me through
But in some masochistic way,
I like people that hurt me.
It's easier that way.
Loving someone who you know will put you through torment
whose true colors already show,
than to trust the innocent flower unaware of the snake that hides beneath it.
I can't be caught surprised,
can't say I didn't see it coming
So I love people who hurt me
I’m a righter – not a fighter.

Things will end how they may
But I securely believe
That some day
You lot will leave;
Every mismatched rhyme
And unknown connection
Will have its time
Shrugging off all signs of affection
Therefore dismissing any reason
That might reside in that mind
And I will ease on
To erase all memory of your kind.

I won’t choose this as my battle
Because I know where it ends –
It’ll inevitably shatter
And these shards don’t tend
To smooth themselves out,
Nor will you take it
Upon yourself to try a differing route –
A new escape – but the same ****.

So I’m left wondering why
It’s always my job to make it right.
October 26, 2013
I have gone cold turkey
On many a vice and addictions,
Wasn't nearly there,
When it came to you,
You -a newly seeded dandelion,
In my beautiful garden,
Pulled you out cleanly,
From root to tip,
Far away from flowering,
You didn't even look pretty,
Once a part of a  beauty,
Swayed fuzzy and whispy,
Got kicked and treaded over,
Scattered fragments,
Waiting to seed again,
Pretty on the outside,
Trouble for the gardener,
Didn't even use my rage,
Just calmly uprooted you,
So you wouldn't flower,
Won't scatter anymore,
Spread like a **** again,
But who knows,
Weeds are resilient,
Maybe you'll flower,
In someone else's garden,
Blossom and bloom,
Just to be kicked again,
Always loved a dandelion,
Pretty in the hands,
Prettier when scattered,
So I won't hold you again.
Leaving you out in the cold
N Dec 2022
1.
The seasons changed,
but he still kept wearing
his yellow sweater during
the hottest weather

He spoke in three languages,
but has only felt the word:
Melancholy,
and the joyous absence of it

He wondered who he would be
without his suffocating sweater,
and the word: Melancholy

2.
He never uttered the word father
for it was too heavy on his tongue,
as the heavy rain on a bleak morning  

His mother loved him dearly,
or ruined him and called it love

A man has fallen in love with him,
and he felt for the first time; the
warmth of equally returned love

His lover swallowed his heart, and
told him it was the final act of love

3.
After ten years of insomnia,
he stopped measuring happiness
based on how many nights he slept,
a funeral rose in his heart as he wept

He muttered the word:
Suffering,
as if it were
a prayer,
or a lullaby

4.
Drawing road maps on his flesh
was his only consolation,
he chose the color red
to find his missing path

Scars between his thighs
as hidden treasures—
Centuries deep away from
people’s piercing gaze

5.
His new beloved was
shaped as a knife
They embraced
for the last time,
and the gushing blood
was his final act of love
Rewrite.
ShFR Aug 2022
“Completely under the impression she would resume her status outside” he thought..
maybe my own words betrayed me as the knife entered Brutus

Unhinged,
could the mind play a game, it saw the movies but did it Saw 5?

Animals huddled around the man made entry salivating at the idea of another chance,
ravenous they paced hungry for a sole sight  

What could be for dinner?
If an appearance not made would both beings have to consider drastic measures. A voyage? A continental trip to parts unknown? Meeting ghosts are not my style but Anthony Bourdain was surely welcome.

Was that a twitch from the ****,
all beings in the area stood at attention awaiting a response from the opening. Informal gestures and gazing eyes they dampen any doubts of their desires.

“How dare they keep us waiting”
the impatient thoughts arose out of the sandy concrete mixture. Those who knew of the situation stood steadfast and steady — this might be it

No “read” stamp,
hope has begun to dwindle.
I too wished of a different outcome but life demands transitions.
© 2022 by ShFR All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of ShFR
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