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It's in obscure recollection
I wonder if it's falsified
Hesitant about the path I can't abandon now
Finding new ways to survive

Bathed in the rays of the sun
Fraught with uncertainty
I wasn't prepared for the atmosphere
Losing my chance to speak

I never had a key
It fell in place
Though I still sleep
I hold to grace
Hoping to recover what's around me

I guess It's still on me
I don't feel the same
Lost in this sleep
I hold to grace
With the colors all around me

But your words
They always bleed through

I'm aware
You think the ways I do

And your words
They always ring true

And your words
They'll always bleed through
Feminine has become a intimate word to me
Something to hide in the ***** drawer locked in the floorboards
Too intimate and innocent  to show to the the worlds
The first chance they get they drop your drawers and say well why would you go and do that? And demand you do; you try to say you won’t.

Why so sensitive?

They want those white ******* so much they crave them
search
       for
            them
                      in the dark
                                      
But mock them in the  daytime
to be sensitive was to be gullible
So why Walt’s in those white petals when the world wears ***** boots
How do you shed those pants for linen loons
The world has shown how it degrades the “dumb blonde” and her worth
To be feminine to be intimate to be innocent to be sensitive to be gullible to be worthless
Growing up I had a hard time time being intimate with other people, I don’t mean the ****** way I mean the feelings that you have the closeness to the other person and the nakedness you have to show your true self. Somehow this got connected to being attached to all the reacurrinng word in this poem. This is also shown in the first couple of words how the a after become isn’t an right before the vowel in intimate, showing the closeness to each vowel and how this is seen as wrong in this sentence.
What's there left to say?
Rest the head on knee.
Finger weaving hair,
our eyes on T V.

What's there left to burn?
Cool the heart from heat.
Inhale deep dismay,
then exhale slowly.

Twilight, half lit dark.
Bare to share the beat.
Taste, taking turns,
highest high,
lowest low   ly.

Freckle you with light
brown skin fingertips.
Depart the anxious
rush to ***,
savor sole   ly

to put lip to skin,
to prolong the sin,
to enjoy to no end,
calm, and then
rising action,

****** and
the unwinding.
Wolf 6d
Plunging into
Old habits
Again
Why

Why am I here
Repeating
This once
More

I will never
Escape my
Own heart
Now

I was sober
So tired of
The word
Love

Now I am drunk
Still too young
Falling
Down
Over the long years
Draped in happiness and leaves
Still grows old and dies
© LadyRavenhill 2019
Haiku 77
Create and destroy.
My heart.
My mind.
My soul.
               Yet you couldn't see my scars
I cut my lip,
I held my hands.
Yet you couldnt see the blood pouring out of my vains.

No one cared.
No one's there.
I'm too ******* scared.






And I'm afraid to die.
My morphine is way over.
Dopamine.
More and more.  

Couldn't look up,
Even when he tried to step up.
Enough us enough.

Wrists have been saved
But my hands are damaged.
Lip overflowing with blood,
Ive tried to manage.

Remember these passages...


_ _ _ _
Nothing more to give...
Tanya 7d
A drop
     which falls
                  in the sea,
                              becomes
                                      
              sea.
          〰️〰️〰️
   〰️〰️〰️
         〰️〰️〰️
   〰️〰️〰️
to my Ukrainian friend.
Christopher Feb 10
All nasty and full of gunk.
I fogot my toothbrush at the complex.
One week I've waited and it's still in the same place.
Feels like I was here yesterday.
But I know it's gonna feel like forever leaving.
Thank god I can try to keep clean with my essential back in my hand.
But I still can't help the feeling...

I'm going to loose my toothbrush again.
Still feels the Same.
swaggmaster Feb 6
i anticipate darkness
my actions seem thoughtless

but really
it's a rally of good vs evil,
what feelings will conquer
and what ones will shrivel?

i crave adrenaline
never feeling enough is enough.
trapped in a cycle
too blissful to dismiss,
eventually invoke the abyss.

energy swarming my fingertips,
unsure of where to exchange the flow
fiending for the delicate aroma of rose hips.
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