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You are a blank rose doused in wine;
Too thrilling for my pen to hold,
You shed your petals in my mind.

I want to freeze your face in time
But flowers blister in the cold-
You are a blank rose doused in wine.

My morning sunshine makes it fine,
Repaints the waste in liquid gold-
You shed your petals in my mind.

I'm veering off the railway line
Grasp out for hanging vines to hold;
You are a blank rose doused in wine.

The thoughts dissolve in seafoam brine
As if my memory's been sold;
You shed your petals in my mind.

But I still hope to find a sign
A crumpled map into your soul;
You are a blank rose doused in wine,
You shed your petals in my mind.
I tried to write a villanelle haha
This was pretty fun
I am a bottle of wine deep
Alone in my apartment I am free
I blow off plans to dance with acquaintances I could care less about
But I insta message a guy I could care about even less than these acquaintances

My dear friend texts me, his wife dying of ALS, and both their pain too tremendous
I have nothing to say

I feel all of the pressure in the world to **** these two men
to comfort them and fulfill what they expect and need

when did I become the girl that everyone knows they can ****?
should I be proud? I am not ashamed, but it makes me sad,

No one wants me, they want what I have

bubbles, excitement enthusiasm,

No one cares about what I am

sad, scared, traumatized, alone.

I need constant attention and reassurance, but I manifest it to being a party girl, ******* every ******* guy who comes her way, and leading on any girl foolish enough to feel a bit of genuine emotional connection.

I cut off my friends, and I fool my loved ones.

I am a dark person, in a light space. Or is it the other way around?

I don't know, but I can't stop thinking about *** long enough to figure it out.
IncholPoem Jan 12
Ared   liquid
bottle  near
a   beetle  shop
is  for selling
of    petrol  and  and d disel

A  red  liquid
glass  bottle
on  the mobile  cycle
of  traditional  cold  drinks

is  for  colonised bottle  
  to  attract  customer.

A              red    liquid  
glass  bottle near
a  bar indicating
the  advertisement
of  new  frame  and
wine  brand

who  is  inspired
Japanese    wine  market.
Rowan S Jan 10
The sweet wine
Your lips to mine
You into me
The wild fire
Our passion
Salted skin
Quickened pulse
Heavy breath
Curved flesh
Well, I think you could my red wine.
My sweet decadence.
Or maybe you could be my sunshine,
My moonlight.
You could be my celestial dream.
In my heard is such precedence,
Such a hope sublime.
I hope that you could be my red wine.
In time,
My sweet decadence.
You could be my red wine
jetspecter Jan 6
I’ve come to realize I rather enjoy
scrubbing the stains of lipstick
off glassware at work,
washing harder and harder
so my next guest can
enjoy their drink.

I wish I could say the same about
packing the stains of myself
into boxes (where they always go)
hoping harder and harder
that the next place I live
feels like home.

The lips and intentions of
****** red wine-drinkers—
I trace the kiss prints, carefully,
before drowning them clean.

I want to hear your morning voice,
breaking down into soft sighs.
I want to get inside your all-alone-head.
Intrusive, consuming love.
Amour fou, make me yours.

I thought I’d see the signs, but
I guess I read them wrong.
I hope, like a nice shade of lipstick,
that I leave a lasting impression.
Annie Dec 2018
I want you to stay
When I ask you to leave

I want you to say nice things
When it's falling apart for me

You asked me
To help a dying man -and I did

With bruises on my arms
A kiss on my lips

You ran out of your cigarette
I ran out of wine

I let the fate ****** all
What once was mine

You hurt me so good
Spinning me around all night

Holding me so tight
So you don't lose the sight

After all, you're the cage I dread
A ghost –infatuating my mind

You came to burn my soul
I've seen the rage,
In your dark eyes,
I have seen the ravaging fire
Aurora Dec 2018
I can
Imagine spending my life
Drinking from your mouth
My red wine
Smoking your fingers
Geting high on your breaths
Touching every cell of you
Hearing their stories
With every cell of mine.
I can
Imagine waking up everyday
To your hair on my face
Your cold feet touching mine
Your stomach nagging for bacon
And your lips starving for a kiss
I can
Imagine you as happiness
And sadness
As ups and downs
smiles and tears
As roses and thrones
Heaven and ****
Fire and rain
as the good thing in every one of them
I can
Imagine you as life
As reality.
Hannah Wallace Dec 2018
pt. 1

she doesn’t have a favorite color
She’s said that different colors have different meanings
And linens are different than the lines
Alining the oceans face

She left a trace
On the nook of my chest
The hole in my stomach
The tip of my finger

I held her:
Velvet skin
Merlot tongue
Sleepy head

I said
“Don’t self-sabotage”
She laughed
And said
“Don’t change”
Her favorite thing about me is my optimism

She doesn’t trust herself
To trust me
she doesn’t trust me

i didn’t chose my words
Carefully enough
To keep her words
From catching in her throat
I wondered what she really
Wanted to say

Yesterday, i didn’t know who she was
Today i don't know her
She doesn’t believe in tomorrow

pt. 2.
She doesn’t have a favorite color
But she says she like blue for sheets
Black and White for cleats
Because color transcends being objectified

i find myself
Studying the history in
Her calloused hands
The language in her hips
The chemistry in her kiss

i held her:
Velvet touch
Merlot tongue
Sleepy head

I said “don’t self-sabotage”
And she let out a laugh
She said “don’t change”
her favorite thing about me is my optimism

I wondered what
Was on her mind
I could ask a million
And ten times in case a million and
Nine wasn’t enough the
First try
But as much as i
Studied the calculations
In her face,
I’m still bad at math

I wished on 11:11 that she might want me back
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