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Picking hearts
is like picking fruits
we like them, ripe
supple and oh so sweet
She used to dream of a future bright,
He used to dream of ' her ' every night.
Luna 20h
Every night I start to write,
To simply fill these rows with words
That I want to tell you.


The only thing I desperately want you to know is that your touch is calming the chaos from my veins.

That your touch calm the thunders from my thoughts and the hurricane from my body.

That your touch could warm my entire  body on a December day.

That your touch is all that I need to survive.

That your touch makes me understand that I’ve got to let go.
Cause I don’t know how to touch you,
And I don’t know how to adore you,
I don’t know how to be with you, without hurting both of us,
Without hurting your touch.

I just want you to know that someday I would want  to feel your fingers on my lips, on my hips, or simply on my skin.
I just want you to know how much I love you, enough to let you, and your touch, go.
Another poem about him.
Thank you for your touch.
You
There are billions of people,
But they are not you.
How beautiful the time we spent together
Not perfect, nowhere near, but we managed
How much we suffered
How much we hurt
Somewhere along the rode, we changed
The end was near
We didn't know how to stop
. . . I diluted myself for you
I spoke less and moaned more
I softened my spirit
I offered up yeses that once would've been no's
I held my tongue between *******
And wore pretty pink lace where there once would've been the blackest leather
I put fewer cigarettes between my lips
And instead pressed them together
To keep you from remembering
Why you didn't love me before
I put on an apron
To play my part
I served you smiles on dinner plates
And sipped white wine in place of whiskey
I put hearts in a lunch box
To keep you company through the day
Then mourned who I once was
While you were away

. . . I thought that if I was softer
More feminine
More pure
That you would be kinder
That I would fit better in your arms
That if I didn't talk back
My lips would taste sweeter
That you would listen when I spoke
I thought that if I became weak
We could be strong
That if slaughtered my Independence
And laid it to rest at your feet
That you would want to ****** my hair like you once had
When I stopped standing my ground
In the kitchen where I performed
And let the peanut gallery at the table
Critique my every adjective
Only to curtsey before their taunts
That when doors closed
You would whisper that I had done well
That your heart had space for me again
I thought that maybe if I hid it when I bled
You would leave the whiskey alone and finally come to bed


. . . But instead
I committed a ******
I killed the woman that I loved
I took a spirit and trapped it in a box made of yes dears and I'm sorries
By replacing her combat boots with pointe shoes
And her pride with warm baked cookies
I slit her throat with a knife made of compromises
Chained her ankles to the kitchen table and forced her to dance before lesser beings
I made an arrangement of the wild roses that made up her lips
And left her unprotected without any thorns
Then cut out her tongue and made her watch
in stunned silence
when you trampled through the garden with clumsy careless feet
I murdered the woman that I used to be
Sacrificed everything just to find that you never loved me
. . .



. . . But fear not, even the goldfish who lies belly up can swim again . . .
His name was nothing more than a typical Hindu name but when,
I recalled his name again,
It felt like warm snow was kissing my face.
His name sounded like I was bathing in hot chocolate
or
like in the dark sky he was the only shining star,
His name was ' SANSKAR ' .
alone 3d
You
You shall be perfect
You shall be made beauty
Your blood shall be a composition
A composition of perfection
It would be easier if blood came in more colours
But it doesn’t so you will have to do
You shall be made fabulous
Take your place
Face the crowd
And bleed for them
This is your purpose
And you will perform
Lest you die a far more agonizing death
But that would not be beautiful
Wouldn’t you agree?
It’s not the pain that kills
Nor the wounds
But the beauty of the performance
They will dance
They will scream
They will die
And the curtain will fall
i spent 16 minutes listening to League of Legends' Jhin's voice lines and this is the first thing that leaves my fingers XD
Alicia 4d
the sunsets and the sun rises
creating each day and each night
and not once does it ask permission
the night will still be pink with light pollution
because of the single office illuminators,
found in every breathing building
the night shift family I never met,
will still glow behind little screens
or candle light thought bubbles and ink
the morning will still spill coffee all over him
but only on mondays, when he’s running late
mondays will always come
sunday mornings will still petition against alarm clocks
and sunday, hereself, will always win
it will rain and it won’t
either way, without me
a.m.
temporary title
Emma 7d
I took a photo of you
When you didn’t know
You were laughing loudly
And your dimples were in show
Your hands were folded properly
you were looking to your right
Your hair was light and messy
And your eyes sparkled with delight
I hold on to your photograph
As you hold on to her hand
A tear rolls down my flushed cheeks
And on your printed face it lands
I close my eyes and make a wish
A selfish one indeed
My heart is filled with love for you
But my mind is clouded greed
-I’m not usually like this x
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