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“what might have been?” YOU ASK MY LOYAL LOVE / IM TERMINAL YOUR RECKLESS PUPPETEER / YOU COME CRAWLING TO ME OUT OF YOUR FEAR / DESPERATE DESIRE ASH PRESSED ON YOUR TONGUE / I BLOCK OUT LIGHT TILL YOURE BEGGING FOR SUN / MY VOICE IS SO LOUD ITS ALL YOU CAN HEAR / ALL YOU WANT IS TO BE WITH YOUR LATE DEAR / PULL AT YOUR STRINGS COMPLETELY UNHINGED, LUNGE / YOURE THE ONE WHO DID IT WITHOUT THINKING / HAVE YOU EVER TASTED SERENITY /
I PRESCRIBE YOU EXHILARATING FLINGS / TAKE MY HAND, KISS WRITHING CALAMITY / BURNING HATING FLAMING ASHES FALLING / TAKE THIS DANCE, TASTE ME,
my first shot at a Petrarchan sonnet <3 i really dig this because it's presented similar to a car commercial, and our host is the woman addicted to eating her dead husbands ashes from "my strange addiction", and the car is impulsivity.
Amy Borton Nov 2018
Impulsivity, I am hopelessly in love with you.

Buy the shoes.
Ditch school.

Kiss her.

Drive 30 minutes
for french fries

Kiss him.

Buy 18 pet snails.
Eat the octopus tacos.

In acting class they told me
to follow my impulses.
At home they told me not to.

A blessing and a curse
might land me in a hearse
But I’m living

Today I wrote a letter to someone I love and I’m going to send it

Tomorrow I might stay home and cook pasta,
or maybe I’ll drive to Portland.
Pack only a few T-shirts and my terrifying
overabundance of freedom

Are you proud?

I’ve been told not to be so impulsive.
To think more rationally.
To weigh the consequences.
“You’ll regret it!”

But the greatest regret I’ve ever felt
is having not done anything
about something that is my everything.

I know I’m not an idiot.

I’ve told myself this for years and I’ll stick to it,
but there will never be a day
when my mind defeats my gut.
Sometimes it means I’m

irresponsible.
Unpredictable.
Messy.
Slutty.

“Who are you anyway?”

I have a secret
-I don’t know who I am

And if I’m lucky, I never will.

You, my impulsivity, are to blame and to thank for that.
Rose Jun 2017
Red
You're a red apple
Fallen to the ground
Dear you're turning brown
And I wept, for I thought
You were sweet in your core
But you are oh so rotten.

— The End —