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Anastasia Apr 10
milk and honey
on your lips
your perfume
sweet and soft
a milky bath
soak it in
dripping from my skin
taste it on your tongue
warm in my arms
sticky and smooth
like the way you make me feel
Ash Nov 2019
It's sticky and sweet.
It engulfs every part of me.
It envelops my mind
Milky and bittersweet.

I've tried to scour it away.
A persistent desire
To make myself clean.
But the feelings stay.

I've managed to remove patches of this love for you.
But with every God forsaken memory of us
These patches heal their own wounds.

The bilious substance manages to cover up your visceral words.
It clings to the hate you gave me
And even as I pry myself from your grip.
The love stays.

What a shame.

I'm covered in the memories of what used to be.
I pick at the past.
Trying desperately to peel love for you off me.

It seeps through every crevice in me.
Filling all the spaces I wanted empty.
Your love, once a comforting embrace
Is now a viscous liquid that suffocates.

Invisible, but still there.
It slashes through my chest.
Bleeds through my thoughts.
A consistent unnerving pest.
Masuda Khan Juti Nov 2019
rolling drop of sweat
slowly slowly drops.
From the bottom of your breast
aiming straight it falls
On your thigh it tries to rest - but ah
--- it's a sticky plummet.
Tori Jul 2019
It is a sticky night.
Like the watermelon that drips down your chin
Like the humid air that sticks to your skin
Like that song you can name when the first note is hit
Uncomfortable, beautiful
Like the clothes that stick to your back
Because you have clothes
Like the way that our messed-up families stick together
Because you have a family
It is messy, like glue
It is sticky, a sticky summer night
Like all of those nights, long ago
Like the blood that was shed for you, for me, by a stranger
By hundreds of strangers
It’s a legacy and it sticks
And we can only pray that nights such as these will
become a memory, something permanent
a fixed point in time, something that endures
We hope that, even just for a little while
It might just stick around
Em Jan 2019
Gel
The stickiness of the gel
That never leaves your fingers
The smell that forever lingers
The distaste that stays at
the back of your mouth.

It could be annoying to have
But inevitable to give.
clingy,,,,, im so clingy
ugh relationships r hard
im tryna not be so e m o ti o n a l l y   d e  p  e n d e n t
Anya Oct 2018
Poems
Are like sticky notes
Recording
Little pieces
Of my life
...
Although,
They record
Much,
Much more
stopdoopy Jan 2019
Dangerous
Sticky red trickles down her stick
Another beating today

Oh how it's my fault
To dare speak of heart felt truth
Tempting you away from "justice"

Just remember
I may be battered and bruised behind bars
But it's you who broke the law
Ever since I wrote Eurydice and had the line "gone is the warden" I knew I'd do a piece based on it, personally to me it's about a hellish woman (as always), but upon rereading I could see it being about many things. What do you see?
A Simillacrum Sep 2018
Well,
memories,
hemorrhages
well
up from the sticky hole.

One time, I fell and hit my head
three times, three places, once in each:
the cabinet, the sink, the bathtub.

Practice being me by proxy.
Out of my head. Out my head.
Tangible damages,
incorporeal skeins.
Mess? Wreck. Heck,

This time, I stood and cracked
my skull on the cabinet:
Clarity? Is that you?

Practiced being me by proxy,
so so long.
Practiced being me by proxy.
Practiced being me by proxy,
so so long.
Practiced being me by proxy.

Clarity?
Or is this
an actual
hemorrhage?

Well,
Memory,
my sticky hole
is filling up
where the water was ****** by the ground.
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