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six Jan 4
i like it when hands are soft
when flowers bloom
when there is no space between me and you

i like it when it rains
when the wind chimes sing
when you slowly slip on my wedding ring

i like it when it’s slow
when the birds start to show
when i find the man who will take me home
six Oct 2019
black shapes, i see them all
disfigured, big, and small
there’s many types that i see at night
but i wish to see none at all

organic line work filled in black
dancing on the wall or on the window
slipping outside to blend with the sky
finally i can get some shut-eye

i wake up again and i’m immediately scared
the black shapes have grown into people with glares
they bark orders at me, my nostrils flare
i really wish i wasn’t here

i look for an exit
there’s none in sight
i hold onto my head and let out a scream of fright

they don’t go away and i’m here to stay
i’m simply waiting for the end of today
six Sep 2019
down the road in which i walk alone
vines hug onto my legs, whispering "don't leave."
i comply with a sigh and sit down in the dirt
my heart and whole being really hurt
i keep being dragged here every day
with no chance of ever getting away
six Sep 2019
the world decides when to drop bombshells
it's usually when i am feeling unwell
i get up and say,
"well, today is the day,"
and consider telling all my problems away
but as soon as the thought
pops into my mind
something happens to disrupt me
and now im left with
the thoughts of getting help
when there's no mode of transportation
to such a place
six Oct 2018
When they were together
they melted like a candle
the flame their love.
Until they hardened into
an amalgamation of wax.
When they hardened
they realized they
could not separate.
They never wanted
to separate anyway.
They would die seeing
each other’s faces
and that would be enough.
sorry this is dumb
six May 2018
the faint lines of regret
etched upon this world when
my name was first uttered
with the connotation of a swear
disgust radiates from bleeding mouths
children of bad parents become
bad children
six May 2018
his hands are in my hair
his permanent touch engraved into me forever
fossils under the earth of us
holding hands and smiling like
life isn’t death and that
we aren’t just living to die
until he uses his hands for
other things
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