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She followed me around, matching every step I took, every time I tripped, every inch I squeaked across laminated, tiled, grassed floors. She followed me through cornfields, though war, through the deserts of Saudi, through the alpine cliffs and tundra of the wintered northeast states. She followed me into the restrooms, and into my bed, where we whispered our dreams to one another, silently letting the hours pass as neither of us could muster a blink, only to express our undying love for one another. I couldn’t sleep with her there. She kept my eyes on her, and in moments I became ravenous, and sleep was found only once we were satisfied. That love was vapid, and that love was only a fragment. An expression of the true whole. My undying devotion to my love. My one, true love.

     Her face was beautiful, pale, blue yet almost grey eyes, staring into the wall. Blonde, shaggy, unkempt but not ***** hair fell a little below her shoulders. Those eyes looked so magnificently marvelous with the glint of our shared lamp on the edges of her eyes, the shiny reflections seemingly engulfing me in her wonder. And yet, as I pay attention, I know she has nothing in those eyes, and that beauty is a husk. For a brief moment I understand, and then once more, it is gone. Her beauty encaptures my soul once again, and I am lost amidst a dream of her love, her love so strong and deep and penetrating into a heart I thought had been broken long ago, rekindling what desire I had to continue trying to survive.

     I stood up once again, but she bid me to sit down, as the show wasn't yet over. The inspiration she had just bestowed upon me would go to waste if he stayed, but after just a moment looking down into those corpse eyes, so wide and begging to be shut, I conceded and sat again. She kissed my nose, one for each nostril, giggled, and left. I love her. So much. I would do anything for her. I would die for her. I spend every minute of my day thinking of her. I worship her.

     I can't forget her. I can't deny her. I can't refuse her. She feels like nothing in my arms, yet everything. I have no control. And I relish in these chains. Every moment I struggle is another **** she can mend. Every war I fight brings more scars to heal. Every catastrophe has her there, faithfully by my side, ready to cheer me up. I held her hand through all of those things, tightening my grip with every new anxiety, every new stressor. Every new responsibility. Even as I stumbled she whispered in my ear, that she was still with me, and willing to be there forever.

       Every time I fell, she helped me back up. She always knew the perfect thing to tell me. She was right on time to make up for any mistakes I made. She had a great eating schedule, and helped me get fit, like I never dreamed I could. She made me popular with the other girls, though; she was always jealous, and always kept herself for last and best. And, truly, I couldn't deny her, she was all I could ever dream for.

     My dearest, every moment we are apart is torture to me and a slow death in its own way. Another minute of being so alone like this, without you by my side to keep me safe and warm, is terrifying to think of. I dream of walking outside and seeing you, there, ready for me, having been gone all these months, bright-eyed and beaming with joy, rushing up to me and folding your thin arms around me, crying about how you missed me so **** much. About how our life together would be eternal, until death. Marriage wasn’t important. What was important was your place in my heart. About how we could finally be back together.
We can finally be back together, my love, my crystal methamphetamine.
Novera May 22
Thinking about all the times I said yes
Just to make others happy
Now everyone seems to have forgotten
That my life is my own.

This is why they don't teach you to say no-
So that you can't say it to their face
When the time comes.
They've been raising me like a pig for slaughter.
I guess I should've known better.
Should've spoken up.
Should've acted out.
Should've stomped my feet and yelled "NO!"
Gotten a tattoo, smoked some ****
Said I'll do whatever the **** I need.

But no one ever told me
Being a good girl never does any good.
You just miss out on what the world has to offer
End up putting a stopper on your anger
Like trapping a genie in a bottle.
And guess what?
The genie ends up
Developing its own Stockholm Syndrome.  

You get trained with treats like a dog
Sit, stay, fetch!
All the while putting a leash on your collar
When you're not looking.

It's a bit of a stretch, you say?

You're right.
Having a teen rebel phase in your twenties is not cool.
What can I say?
I've always been a little slow.

But now it feels like life is on hold forever.
I've handed the keys over
And locked myself in.

Within my head is no longer
A good place to escape to.
e a l Mar 16
im free
im free from your chains and demands

but why do i feel hallow
what did you do to me?

everyone is a blur
and my mind works mechanically like clockwork

i end up reading our messages
i end up conjuring your scent

my mind draws places we've been on sketchpads
and my eyes look for the shade of your eyes

i wake up to the illusion of your arms around mine
and my lips tickle from lips that aren't there anymore

my mind is racing because there's no one to talk to
there's no one as interesting as you

what have you done to me?
why do i want to be your victim again?
Gorba Feb 18
Man får säga ibland
Att det finns skönhet som inte går att beskriva
När till och med en himmelsk strand
Skulle se gräslig ut om man skulle jämföra
Så länge jag bor här
Kommer det inte finnas något att klaga på
Vi är som ett par
Med två partiklar som möttes och blev oskiljaktiga
Jag har varit med dig i tre år nu
Och kärleken brinner fortfarande
Det är uppenbarligen jag och du
Och det är inget erbjudande
Det är hellre ett vackert oundvikligt löfte
Som skrevs med outplånligt bläck på ett häfte  
Du ser ut som en mångfacetterad hydra
Som står ovanför en blå matta
Det känns så skönt att korsa dina broar
Och att gå vilse i kurvorna du har
Jag måste också prata om din gröna klänning
Som man inte kan undvika att smeka
Den absorberar solsken, släpper syre, får oss att leva
Och gör mig glad när jag kommer kring
Du är ljusare än solen under sommaren
Men mörkare än ett svart hål när vinter spränger dörren
Som regnet som får regnbågen att dyka upp
Uppskattar jag mörkret för då ser man norrsken
Samtidigt, brukar snö bygga upp
En vit rock som försvinner sen
Du var inte mitt första val från början
Men nu står du högst upp på listan
Jag behöver erkänna att jag är kär i dig
Trots att du inte ens är en riktig tjej.
Orchid T Aspen Dec 2019
<>
When he throws you                 at the wall,
and hugs you
and bites you
and screams in you
and kisses you,


let it be back then,

when she threw you                on the floor,
and stomped your filling
and snapped your stitching
and sliced your corners
and kissed you.
<>

Tighten your throat
and you can go to bed again.
<>
Visit me in Stockholm
We'll be happy together
Locked up and stuck wherever
Stay with me
Forever
For: Huxley Densen
ranveer joshua Oct 2019
my dreams and aspirations
cannot be confined to this textbook
for it can’t teach me how to
walk the cobblestoned streets of stockholm,
surf the waters of bondi beach,
ride the canals of amsterdam,
nor hike the city of cinque terre.

but here i am, not knowing what the future holds in store for me,
just waiting for the time to come
of which i can experience
the joy that is to travel.
JonahAlonso Jun 2018
You were a story
of loneliness and woe
guilting me into loving you
or something close to it

Striking me down
with your own tempestuous explosion
Bruising me black and blue
bending me at your will
Tearing me apart

You stitched me up loving and tender
and worshiped my putrid words
You carried me worn and weary
from the weight of your passion

Blinding light
that burns the flesh
warms my soul

You have become my one and only truth
trf May 2018
your "friends" that we meet,
i forget their names,
my calloused palms are greased,
by their  squeezing hands

i remember one's a banker,
or he could have said a thief,
his ******* words were flanked,
by my misbelief

i was held hostage,
you were a smiling drone,
i remember when i lost
to Stockholm Syndrome

their Heirloom Suffix changes,
on tuxedos and trust funds,
my rental wears just fine,
i'm not the danger

shorting stocks on tuesday,
while playing ball in hand,
what a shame to lose me,
busted seams this man

I am not a banker,
I am not a saint,
I cannot to be trusted,
I won't place the blame.
I am not a proxy,
I am an astronaut,
But this distant world you live on,
Is far from my plot
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