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Jillian Mar 2020
No longer is my divine identity there.

Instead, I've been replaced
With parts of pleasure-
The manufacturer: an unpleased man.

I am to only have a type of plastic confidence
If I am to get anywhere

And insecurity so lavishly chokes
Like a dozen little black pearls
To a few red moons
All meticulously dipped into the purply-blue
Of God's great typhoons.
Jillian Jun 2020
I can't stand to touch the needle.
Because when I do, my head is through.
Please, I can't stand anything new.
Jillian Mar 2020
This man that plays with fire-
Of his false truths, I am the buyer.

Dear God, he makes me tired
but yet I am still a hard-wired sucker for this liar.
Jillian Mar 2020
Keep making a name for yourself,
but don't forget how mine tastes in you mouth.

Because the second its spit out,
your mind and heart can't help but follow.

Then, you'll be left a man of heavy wax
or even worse - completely hollow.
Jillian Aug 2020
Your color is of the freckled new moon,
Hair as black as the matter scattered all plain.

Teeth coated by the ocean's pearls
Though one or two have strayed.

Far from looking new,
you came to me.

Yet I love you all the same.
Jillian Mar 2020
I am more than simple and less than complex;
I am everything all at once.
And very naked of course.

So he picked me straight out
of his favorite magazine,
a forever piece.
Jillian Jun 2020
I couldn't tell you what I'm here for,
For all these people who are dear to me?
Who think cruel thoughts just the same as me?

I couldn't tell you what I'm here for,
Believe me, going outside makes it all less clear.
For I see these things, working for one another.

I forget..who am I working for again?
For all these things that were here before me?
For all these things knowing life without me?

Well, tell me: did you know a life before the trees?
The Sun, the Arts?
No, because they are the need.

I am not the need.
Jillian Jun 2020
Everyday, he says.
Everyday, he does.

He shoves ideas of greatness down into his soul,
Hoping it will make up for never knowing me at all.

Of course, knowing me distracts
So, let's not go there, kid.
No, just let me do my thing instead.

So I let him play and play,
Like the child he is.

And, still, no one knows me.
Jillian Jun 2020
He gives me lightening
With those fingers - as slender as the Devil's

He gives my brain the scramble,
With those looks - they haunt my reason

I know he thinks he's teasin,
But in the end, it's always me he's pleasin'

He could be playing his lot with the girls,
Tell me, then
Why he has practiced me to perfection?
Jillian Aug 2020
I am an artifact of events which all led here
I'm born of liquid love that all bred here
I'm the native speaker of all kept here
Jillian Mar 2020
Every little thing he is
and I cannot be for anything more
than every little thing he is to me.

I cannot let go, no.
No, I insist I am lacing within
a velvet-kissed bliss.

This bliss had before come to me
only a dream,
so frightening and foreign.

But it's here now, and now, and always.
And before he existed himself and all his absoluteness.
And I and me
and a decree, quite deadly

Deadly to some pearly body.
A shell manifested by some bad habit.
Some habit, and something starving won't ****.
God, the vanity of this woman.
Jillian Jun 2020
Your Woman -
It is Godless men I tame,
All by compassion.

Such an art man has so little mastered,
Yet they have all so conquered.

Please tell me,
What is more conquering than the batting eyelash
Of a paragon girl with ripe, bleeding fingers

For I stay pulling thorns out of wed-less men
And in my eternal giving, they give to me.

— The End —