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Today my mind is clouded and my heart is heavy
Although even with all this weight I carry from my thoughts to my feelings
My body feels as though I am floating between the earth an the sky with nowhere to go
Allyssa 1d
It's almost poetic,
The way we give ourselves to others without a second thought,
Just so we could feel something,
Other than the holes in our chests.
The aches our hearts give us,
Craving the touch of the one we want most,
To be held,
To be loved,
To be wanted.
So, we give our flesh,
To appease the longing we crave,
In hopes of quieting the demons that claw their way out at night,
Creating craters in the no-mans land we call our love.
To love freely,
To be loved freely,
Is such a beautifully terrifying thing.
Isn't it?
We offer our flesh to the ones who will take it in hopes of filling the overgrowing void in our hearts.
I hate feeling trapped.
Anger boils inside me
the feeling of not having power over myself.

I want an escape

From those specific words,  your name, your words.
The memories of things that I'd rather forget.
It makes me collapse into the floor everytime I remember,
It triggers my overwhelming anxiety
what happened in december.

And I think of those moments,
tearing my mind  apart
About the reimagination of delusions
of yesterdays and today's

I can't compare
those moments so long ago were so rare,
the marks I still bear.

Its your  touch on my skin,
my reflection on the mirror
and the question I hold within
what could have been.
Flay me, shroud my body
in Saran wrap, for others to see
what you mean to me: a relief
map of live suffering,
writhing organs in a plastic bag,
a human soup to drag
behind you, sensitive to everything you do,
overflowing with formless worship,
pink, raw and dreaming
of a vicious kinship:
Open yourself and slip my parts in,
we can exist, two hideous beasts
within a single beautiful skin.
Kitty 3d
girls are made of fluff
fluff covered slug covered girl
when is the girl a girl
when she is the fluff on a slug on a girl?
you can
pick me apart
piece by piece.

I promise you
that I can
handle the pain.

experiment on me,
sedate me,
cut me open
and study me.
I can take it.

all I ask is that
when you put me
back together again,
please leave my trauma
out on the operating table.
I am not afraid of
showing you my body.

I am afraid of
only showing you my body.

my mind is a mess.
a deep, beautiful,
complicated mess
of thoughts that twist
and turn and tangle.

I want you to be more interested
in prying open my mind
than prying open my legs.

I want you to be more interested
in me than my skin.

anyone can hear a heartbeat.
anyone can see a body
if it’s in front of them.

not everyone can hear thoughts.
not everyone can see love
if it’s in front of them.
Mother gaia, recycling queen

Stitches old bodies and fashions trees

These souls that travel around blue earth

In fractal beauty birthed and rebirthed

My Spanish life was short but rich

They knew me as the bejeweled enchantress

An african lot was bestowed in time

I danced a primal dance and became the divine

A boy of sadness for this whole life

A muddy battlefield became my demise

Now cutting through island overgrowth

I forage for food for my pregnant wife.
Beckie Davies Oct 15
i observe my naked body in the mirror
scanning the war torn battle ground
that i once despised but have grown to love

my fingers trace the bumps and scars
there is familiarity in the exploration
i linger at the grooves in my wrist
it reminds me of a recording
that i have inked into my skin

i observe my naked body in the mirror
the woman in the reflection holds no fear
she has learnt to read the signs of beauty
the signs that are etched all over this Australian body

i observe my naked body in the mirror
this is the body of a warrior
thirty one years of growth
thirty one years of truth
i observe my naked body in the mirror
i appreciate the view
self love is a precious commodity
Demi Oct 14
Is there anything wrong with a muffin top?
They’re so soft and tasty, shove them in your gob.

Bingo wings? Hey, bingo gave me the thrill of a
lifetime and wings, well, just think of the joy they’d bring.

An orange peel **** is perfect to sink your fingers into.
Feel the juice. Baby I’m proud of this thick caboose.

If you can’t handle love handles and take a firm grip
then get out of my lane you weak handed wimp.
I keep seeing workout videos called 'get rid of your muffin top'. Why are we encouraged to become smaller, we'll eventually disappear.
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