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Jason Drury Feb 15
If I gave you my soul,
would you read each page?
Scribble notes of interest
and know me.
Would you take the time,
to help tape the seams?
Would you mend,
the fragility of my soul?
It tears and rips,
easily, emotionally.
Willow Jul 2018
These are the words I would never tell you,
Your smile, your eyes, your hair, that is just a plus to you, but your personality is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I thought after one year, the crush would be over but I was wrong.
7 years later and I'm still completely and utterly in love with you. You're the person I look for when I walk in a room, you're the person I can mess with their hair and wouldn't care. You're the person that I can throw a pencil at and make you pick it up and wouldn't get mad. You're the only man I trust, and you know how much I don't trust them. But I know I can tell every single secret but one and you wouldn't tell another soul. When you told me you believed in me, a piece of my broken heart went into it's place like a puzzle piece.
Wasn't sure if I wanted to publish this or not but **** it.


The secret I can't tell him is that I love him :)
Jocelyn Sharp May 2014
Blue eyes, auborn hair, porcelin skin.
Thats what you see until you get to whats within.

Within it a soul that longs to come out.
Float through the air, scream, run and shout.
It wants you to know how much you are missed.
How much i know it knows it ****** up, how it misses every kiss.
It wants you to know that it still remembers your smell.
The way you look when you first wake up, and how youre putting it through hell.
It remembers your music, your voice soft and sweet.
It remembers how much you loved the feeling of the sand on your feet.
It wants you to know, that it dwells on the past.
That its hard to move on when you left without looking back.
It has a few questions, like why would you leave?
It thought it had found its mate, another soul from the same breed.
It longs to hold you again, to rock you to sleep.
It wants to feel the way you breathe when your dreaming those beautiful dreams,
It wants to tell you that it misses you so.
It wants to ask you, why would you go?
i have never been such a loss for words
i want to linger, want to be heard
ears attentive to every word
spend a thousand hours in your wake
split the last piece of your favorite cake
want to grow and to die
with you by my side
and to never ever wonder why
knowing deep down inside
that you were my soul's mate
Navigating the morning migratory commute
      Mother Luna, Venus Magus, Jupiter Rex
      and little cygnets of pink appear
            —just for her

She hums a few notes
      from her Hildegard repertoire
             in memoriam
      to a mostly recycled paper cup
      organic hand-roasted coffee, fair trade
      brewed by a kid, her favorite barista
      because he can quote Albert Camus

She soars on a plain of existence
      Alto Cirrus Allegro
      where gods kibitz in several languages
            —at once
      on topics that span the gamut
      of not-so-trivial pursuits

My Pen, at her desk, preens her brand
       though this is the season of her last days
       an executive where money
            is unapologetically—God
       where women are hens
       recognized holistically
             as the large fleshy area
             that surrounds the ******

It's difficult paddling upstream
      in that sewage
      when you are a swan

That's why, I, her Cob who surely,
      surely by true gods that fly
               do not deserve
      such a precious spirit feather as she
      calls to her, waddles my mating dance
            —just for her
      spreads my wings
      to flap scents of sky in display for her
      cranes my neck to honk
      across interstate traffic
            and elevator gropes
      to bring her back here—home
our pond of still water
for LoML
Steve Page May 10
Yin
I need a strong yin
to rein me in
to be by my side
kicking my shin
when I need to restrain
my under their skin
to pull me out of my dive
and control my fast spin

it's then that my watson,
my bucky, my tonto
comes into their own
and suppresses my ego
So don't go when I strut
when I trigger disgust
just stand by my yang
and balance me up
Thank you radio 4 for a short about side kicks
English Jam Mar 2018
My golden years are a retrospective view
Doubtful, not sure, might be a last dance
One day I was gum-chewing with my Batman yo yo
Now my soul is rubber, and it leaks on the outside
Faded away from the youthful days
Once giddy pleasure
Now it’s all so
serious

The teen lifestyle washed over within seconds
Sure it’s fun to friends
Entertaining to have enemies
But the squabbles and meanders slow you down
The pitiful liars and desperate seekers
Worship through blasphemy whatever they care
Limbs don’t respond
Thoughts and actions don’t line up

You see it for what it truly is
Baby
You’re in danger
of maturing

Forgotten and dazed
Sitting in a broken armchair
It's difficult seeing through the fogginess
Finding the missing hours
Difficult on a drowse

...I work only weekdays (don't we all)...
...Fantastic gatherings on Sundays (family days)...
...Jimi Hendrix, he's good (bit of an understatement, mate)...
....He's the kind of guy I wish I could...

...etc...
Naomi Sa'Rai Feb 2
I hate you!
From the look in your eyes
To the bitter sweet words you choke out
I hate you and everything you're about
The way your hands caress my frame
Leaning in close to whisper my name
I hate that I can never...NEVER love you again
How I thought we would last a lifetime
An eternity
I hate how now you've decided that can never be
I hate you and all that you've done to me
Bewitched my mind with thoughts of you
Cursed my soul with your witches brew
I hate that I love you more now than I use to
When I dream at night it's never a dream come true
I hate that I hate myself more than I hate you....

You hate me
As I hate you
For all of the things that you put me through
I gave heart
Soul
***
Mind to you
You ******* me literally
Slapped me
Played with my blue
My blue that rained for only you
I spread my wings just to be cut by you
You drink me deeply
Swallowed me whole
Played with my intellect
Straight ******* my soul
Yet you hate me
That cant be true
Just last night
I received all of you
You came into my intellect
Seized my soul
******* my mental
Made me your  own
You say you love me
But that's not true
I hate you more
Bout time you knew
My flowers yours
your horn I've already blew
You hate me
But i hate you too
Where do we go from here
Is what I ask of you

Naomi Sa'Rai & Nova St.Paul
Purcy Flaherty Jul 2017
I was just in the closet July 1988
Not a word was said; 'sept a couple of whispers and an obvious desire to ****!
Mop buckets, the heat and the stink of her *****,
Harsh staggered breaths tell the tale;
Petulant hands and harsh fingers.
Nickers and pants half pulled down,
Hard truths pushing through,
I had to **** her from behind,
Very confined, quick, clumsy, ******, release.
We both staggered out;  her mate much older waiting outside, bold as brass, she looks me up and down all tough and barks assertively "i'm next!" and **** I was back in the closet 1988
Two brazen cleaners take the new boy in the closet in 1988 extract from my diary.
NewCaleBoy Aug 2018
the extermination of the straight white male

soon we will be gone and the remainder carried over into zoos for
“safekeeping,” our DNA and ***** harvested for science purposes

you will be pitched advertisements

send $ to San Diego Zoo so they can save the few remaining
white rhinos (which they neglect to mention are in preserves in Kenya and the Sudan, but send $$ a way)
and the last three straight white guys
(surfer, techie, and an aborigine)
to preserve the species so the world can modify their cells
to stop sexism, racism and other male diseases
gonna maybe mate them with the rhinos,
which will be expensive cause of all the rhinoplasty,

so send me some
money, money, money

yup
laura Aug 2018
20 years old
lost 1 and a half litters
and her mate five years ago
in a flood
vet says she’s super healthy
and she’s a furball of love
wisdom and mischief
in her catty eyeballs

and here i sit thinking about
a cat that’s lived more life than
i have in my entire life
I assume you once danced the Cabaret
By how you strut your Flexi-Form abroad
This I figure on weeks-by-two per se
The Ardent Friend your Fervour can behold
T'was the Charm which every Fruit can discuss
And win many Smiles for a Pint or Ink
Telling us flat, Life can take us that Far,
In a Bus run by Monday's Downey Sink
Was it wrong to know the Inner-Woman-You
That Principle so many Thinkers deny:
"******-Hub! Buck-Forth! Lev, Lev, Lub, Lub, Le, Loo!
Then Drink your Bub-Clouds to Barrels on high!"
Nah, Forgive my Fishes, Sir! I bestate
You're one Sav Foretainer - Dance with me, Mate!
#rustyrockets
jas Aug 2018
love is not what love is or what love used to be
love grows. and love grew inside of me for the very first time.
true love that is, love that i thought would never exist except in movies or my favorite romance novels.
imagine falling in love with your best friend, unknowingly.
days pass you by and the sun shines on a sun-kissed face,
embracing all of life beauties. without knowing you fell for love of everything.
love of life, the trees, the universe, people and those who inhabit your life.
every small thing became big, within reach was possibility.
for new chances, changes, and that's when it hit you.
HARD.
like a brick, like bricks, like the titanic came and sunk on your heart , on your whole body even
in the most angelic way, your heart was full of life, of peace, unity of the most purest form of love.
seeing their face for the first time after that was mesmerizing.
tiny butterflies filled your stomach, any chance to talk to , to be in their presence, fighting the urge to jump into a full of *** rage.
blood running warm between your veins , melting away deep inside your body.
if only they could notice you...
until the end, is where this story gets better.
perhaps , a fairy tale ending is in store for you, or perhaps the best is saved for last.
perhaps, a few exchanged glances, a small grin at your jokes, a simple brush against the arm, leaves an open discussion of flirtation.
fluttering of the hearts , engaging in more than a friendship, but an assurance.
completely lost from the start, we somehow found ourselves tangled deep into the web of mystery.
so,
when we reach the end, remember it is also the beginning of a love so true,
reciprocating feelings deep inside, where both parties can know longer hide it.
to fight the urge to not love, is torture in the deepest form.
love is what love was, and love grows into something more.
love grew into my soulmate.

                                             with love,
                                                        a soul.
Grammer is not important , unless it is. don't bother.
this is why i need an editor, oops...
(take a shot how many times i said love, LOL)
perhaps, this isn't a poem.
Doug Miura Sep 2018
Control
A clue
Trauma
Cause

Flighty
Unstable
***
Problems
Lesbians get molested for years and a woman was ***** by 25 men but non-*** therapy helped save her life.  It prevented her from having anxiety & night-mares. Getting victimized means that only 1/10 gets therapy but after reading this 1/4 do.

3/4 of therapists are bad so ask, "Why did you become a therapist?  If it shakes them it will tell you if they are victims and if so, walk out without paying at once!  Stay and be abused. These are the words of a strong, non-victim therapist.

"I have never been a victim and I have never abused drugs. I don't think that those people make the best therapists. Those that have gone through it have problems that are unresolved so they cannot give a normal view of reality. They are too busy trying to compare their experiences with everyone who comes through their doors." Kathi R Shell MFT.

A good way to look for a legitimate therapist is to ask for a referral from a major hospital. Here’s testimony from a healing client, “Thanks for your advice. Yep, I switched therapists and this one seems so much better for me than the other one did. It's much more intense, but maybe that's what I needed. I know I've got a long road ahead of me, but I'm trying my hardest.Thanks Doug, Wendy”

She went 10 years without good therapy so if you're reading this from a bottle or from an explosively triggered emotional state get your head out.
Search low cost or free therapy if you need it but ask, "Why did you become a therapist?" before you sign anything. Get peace, Doug Miura
KUSHAL HAZRA Mar 2014
SUN RISES HER UP WITH ITS BRIGHT AMBASSADORS OF MORNING.
                        SHE STRETCHES HER PETALS SLOWLY
AND GREETS HERSELF IN NAKED FEET WITH A BLOOM OF JOY.

YELLOW TINGLED LIKE A WATERFALL GLITTERING IN SUNLIGHT.
                      TISSUES KEEP THEMSELVES BUSY,
SERVE HAPPINESS TO THE MAGMATIC BEAUTY OF EACH ERA.

SHE HAS HER OWN UNIVERSE WITH THE SOUL MATE SHE LOVES.
                        TOIL CONSUMED ALL OIL INSIDE HER,
RELAXATION BRING PLEASURE AFTER A DAY’S JOURNEY OF A DOVE.

SHE THANKED THE ANCIENT FATHER FOR THIS WONDERFUL WORLD.
                                     BEFORE ANOTHER SUNRISE,
SUNFLOWER SLEEPS ANOTHER NIGHT AND LIVES ANOTHER DREAM.
Danielle Suzanne Mar 2017
When I'd wake alone in bed at 4am
Again
To find you passed out
on the couch
Too wasted to notice
the heart breaking in front of you
I tried every day
But you preferred synthetic hugs
and to hide in a place
where the expectations were low  
Escapes and excuses
more alluring than I could ever be
Through tears I would plead
'Why don't you want to sleep with me!?'
I shouldn't have taken it so personally

But nobody saw me cry
Especially not you
Blind to my own tears
Large doses of denial dished out
A feast for the masses
Perhaps the most powerful drug of them all
My soul mate disappeared
each day
a little more

Maybe today will be different
Hope
The beautiful motivator
Maybe today
It will be me that you choose
Naively believing
that you had control
But then I woke
alone in bed at 4am
Again
Manipulated and used
March 26th 2017
Scurry hurry
Shaking hands shaped by worry
tie the knot of plastic
A bubble home for the hard green cup
where brown and white
mixed lay married.

Wash rush
Dainty legs in dark blue denim
hasn't time to be romantic
A worn out sister played by hope
shuts the door panting.

  It clings to a robust tree
  head hidden under rosy pink    
  protective shield
  edged in yellow

  The fireflies

  
Sticky webs of empty lies packaged in boxes of deception by the wizard that doesn't work
sit dead on the small bedside table
like the results they provide.

Boxes and boxes of cozy containers
and cards of capsules
47 I counted them
current and extras
They choke my sight
then I am groped by the smooth blue robes worn by the youthful shepherd
posing aside a grey rock looking yonder
into the distance as insta-natural as possible in a pastel painted picture framed in wood against the wall.
  
  Unstable molecules in tiny airtubes,  
  many, breakdown and explode
  like little landmines
  A bio-luminescent lit ***** assaults a  
  dense night flashing brilliant
  to find a mate
  Six strong neon-green throbbing blinks
  Six slow seconds of unimaginable
  wordless dreamless dark.

  are bright.

  
I turn my head
The whole unsettling mass of reality
is torn apart into vibrant colorful morsels,
then reassembled
as my eyes  
settle
on

Her

"Oh God, if you're here, heal her now
and you'll have me. Show me what those confident tongues so eagerly confess.
Please!"

NOTHING
Another sticky empty square
covered in thick black-strap molasses
slapped to the face of the fool
who likes sweet things.

BUT

What happened to the omni-this, omni-that CEO of God enterprises?
"Go on Death" is what that means
"Go on Death do your job" is what it does

"It's your time.
It's to test your faith.
Gods plan."
All slogans for the man
who believes and dies.
  Culture creates the fool
  Hope keeps the fool
  Belief kills the fool
Thanks for doing what all those boxes
and all the pictures
on all the walls of the world do

FOOL

Her face,
a gaunt kind of skin-to-bone sight
a bad flavor
like a meal with no taste

Her mouth,
crack-lipped, framed by dry
delivers deadly blows to a heaving chest
that says; "Give me air"
yet lungs say no

Anguish,
is ****** from the pit of my cold stomach
then up through the spirit of a warm heart
I plaster the feeling in the shape of water.
My eyes puddle

I weep

It sticks

Love,

Falls

Fluttering as a twinkle
through soft beams of sunlight,
the drop glistens
plops
then dies
on the pink and blue checkered blanket.

All I have to offer are busky palms
to soothe this battered body
before you are torn apart by what
puts things like us together.

I swallow her frame

Her calf - bone

Squeeze and move

Her thigh,
my hand wraps completely
pinching a sausage sized piece of muscle
not big enough to walk
between plump thumb
and meaty middle

Squeeze and move

Her hip bone is angular
It fits flush in my hand
like the hard front peak of a cricket cap
when held above the grid

Squeeze and move

My chunky tentacles massage over
wire-thin barely blue throbless veins
that decorate her meatless paws
and twig-like fingers.

Squeeze and move
  
  It's after midnight
  Thick curds of desperation push
  again, through a splendid backside
  a special toosh
  slogging a dancing night-fever
  to beat the two-to-four,
  a beam as bright as a green day
  cuts through the black pitch of night

  

I hold her hand
A thin filling between two slices of mine
I look at her eyes and turn away

Have you ever been pulled from the center of  your heart, ripped head first through the narrow crack of your own chest, tossed aside like a skin-sheet onto a concrete glass-covered floor then squashed beneath the majesty of a billion dancing floor-clapping feet attached to a shapeless void shapeshifting as slideshows  between all things gone, here, and still to come, stopping on the body of a small blue boy that sings in ghostly echo;
"Don't turn away from this.
Look till you see me through the eyes of another because this too
will happen to you
Clap clap clap clap!
I'm coming for you.

Trapped in a square tunnel made of brick, walls wide enough for one bus no brakes to speed through, no escape,
I accept what will squash me
I Face it
I Stand before it

I stare at her eyes staring back at me
A deep dagger stare
Two parts steel
meshed
until there is only steel
It melts

I simmer the room in soft whisper;
"It's okay. It's okay. It's okay."
I hold her hand,
patting the top as I warm the bottom
I smile for her, at me
I smile back, as me
  
  A skillful mimic
  Here I come
  I have light and breath
  I see yours
  I come at night
  Not for genes or ***
  I hunt and gut
  Hawking down I come as death

  
The gaps between her labored breaths become bigger and for a second I drift at the sight reappearing on the sandy dunes of an empty dessert space pushed by a dying wind I can barely feel.

A sharp salty tang toils the tip of my tongue and brings me back to her.

Her eyes

They have changed

Open

But

Soul

   less

     Soulless

     Desolate

   Like

That dessert

And that place where


*The Fireflies Lose their Light
close enough is never close enough
you either is or you aint
an arf an a quarter an an eighth is only sorta
an ya never gonna make da whole weight
coz yer always gonna be short
no matter if ya think ya ought
ya never ever gonna be my fukkn mate
do one *** ed
Northern Poet Oct 2017
Why am I so obsessed
With checking my notifications
If no one texts me
It feels like suffocation
That little red dot
Next to my application
It ***** me off
When it won’t work down at the station
I've got a mate who's into spontaneous flirtation
He met a bird on this app
I think she's Croatian
They went on two dates
And then went on vacation
Meanwhile I'm sat at home
Watching babe station
I fell in love once
Then realised it was infatuation  
She said I had no drive
But she had no imagination
When we go out
Theres no conversation
Even Siri
Gives me ******* quotations
My new phone
Is the new sensation
Checking Facebook
My only temptation
I check my phone
Just to know my location
**** it
I’ve had it...
With this nation
zebra Aug 2016
on the first date
she confided in me
i have a chromosomal disorder, disorder, disorder
i need love and pain strangely mixed together
my elixirs
i suffer reality distoooorrtions
a ghastly Vatican of ****** compulsions
my soul is black matter
my **** a seething cauldron of despicable desire
my *** cries for homicidal cruelty

mold me into a *******
fold me like a two dollar beach chair
the wrong way
tear me to bits
unwind my intestine
eat me like a blood ******* ghoul
make me squirm like an anime victim

i thought oh finally a soul mate
with soul

strange as a Dionysian mad hatter on hallucinogenics
hot girl creeping
grimacing at me
meandering conjurations by ****** contortions
stunning impersonations of a Fellini impaling
shes a famous artist
keeps broodish bowels and blood tampons in stainless vitrines
spot lighted
ready for her debut at the
Museum of Modern Art

she blows torrents of snot like ****
her beautiful desperate tongue searching the upper lip
a salty runny viscoses snack
oozy
finding it finally with her frenetic tongue
feeding her gooey ****
with wet fingers
oh yummy yum goo
up her *** too

first smiling then hideous scowls
exposed teeth
posing with a knife
wana see me cut my self bad boy, she taunts
wana see my impersonation of pizza with extra tomato sauce

blood blood *** in the be in the bed
wipe it up with ****** bread

some how she miraculously bulges her eyes out
then performs, ******* lips as if a minnow in a fish jar

pointing to her ***
giving me that **** hurt me twisted look
how about a peanut butter jelly ******* sandwich
with a side of ****** feet
**** and **** on toes
its especially prized this day of the month
as her **** tears like a vampires mouth, a torrent of blood
pouting **** with white red stained thighs that break a mans heart
*** nothing at all she quips
just a little accident
do you like it?
as she glares like an invitation
to play slip and slide bare foot in her puddle of blood

oh she made me *****
my cherry red **** having a nervous breakdown
from apoplectic horror gasms
a dose of heavens hell

i want her
she is voluptuous like a dozen venomous snakes
copulating in warm soup dark water everglades
she is slither theater

curdling screams
then muggling *******
brought on by the first belly stab
falling to her knees
looking up shocked
mouth gaping
eyes wide
grinning
glance steady
holding holding holding
the belly cut
a cacophonous modern dance of agony
followed by rapturous convulsing *******
that went on and on and on

get a bat she implored

she is a real ******* movie star
the Greta Garbo of *****
a dark jewel
a must have
a hell wife
goddess of dread
a ******* *** genius
my best girl ever

fused by desire
we kissed like **** loving catholic priests
in adoration of their savior
young boy *** castrato hitting the high notes


she looked up with desperation
eyes with glittering tears
and said
are you my black knight?
do you know how to hurt a girl
are you my
Vex Mallus
Dr Satan
Marquis De Sick
Nick Nick
Dark Officer
Remus the Werewolf
Dom Sugar Daddy
Pit Bull
Tommy the Tummy Gutter
5 o'clock Shadow
London Cabby
Amputee ******
Uncle Surgery Gone Wrong
King of the Carpathian Vampires
my sweet kissy Kitten

ooohh yes i said
i am all that for loves sake
albeit twisted
i am what you crave.. your no taboo lover boy
your ******* licking foot slave with a razor in hand
a bubble of poison between my legs
your homicidal suicidal cockealiciousness

she said good,
now that we have that settled
can we go out for dinner
ill be dressed in a jiffy
if i can find my dead skirt
of soft white gauze
with that lovely motif of dread red
and my precious toe tag jewelery
My poems remain explorations of the subconscious ******
If i where a film maker or a novelist  you  would see me telling a story, not judge me, although i admit to my paraphilias  
These poems  are lunar anamorphic streams of consciousness from the deep chaotic subterranean glitz of transgressive  impulses we all share
Read them if you dare...You might find that part of yourself that you don't want you to know about and then again  you may feel more complete some how if you do....I always loved that dark thing that sleeps with in me
Jeff Gaines Mar 2018
Cardinal
Oh, Cardinal
You great scarlet bird.

You hop along my porch rail
But you don't say a word.

Defiant
So Defiant
Of nature's camouflage.

There is no way to hide
Your bright red entourage.

Orange
Bright Orange.
Your sharp pointy beak.

Gathers the worms and the seeds
All the meals that you seek.

Feed
Feed her.
This mate that you court.

Such a noble young man
You dance and cavort.

Sing
Sing sweet
You and your friends

I'll love your songs every morning
'Til winter comes 'round again.

Babies
Your babies
I'll meet them come next year.

When in the Fall, they'll alight on my porch
And bring my morning's cheer.

Cardinal
Oh, Cardinal
I'm so glad you're here, you see.

I knew your parents and now you have come
Singing just for me.
I live pretty far out in the country. The birds here are really awesome. I love to go out late at night and listen to the Barred Owl or spend an afternoon sitting in our back meadow to watch the breeding pair of Peregrine Falcons that have a nest in one of our Methuselah oaks.

But every morning as the sun rises and I have my coffee on the back porch ... the Cardinals always seem to be the early risers. Their songs begin with the very first crack of light. They seem to have gotten used to me, as they now land on my porch rail, pretty close to me.

They sing and court mates and sometimes, I swear, they just kinda bop around on the railing and watch ME!

They are simply beautiful and I LOVE having my coffee with them each morning!
Look at all these wannabe gangsters
Terrorising our streets
That one's wearing camouflage trousers
Just wait till you hear him speak
'Dems bear skills mate'
'Can you lend me fifty bar?'
He sounds like he's from Los Angeles
Doing time in the yard
But he's not
He still lives at home with his mum
And his pregnant girlfriend
And he's under the thumb
You see them outside Tesco
But they're not shopping for pesto
Let's go
They've seen the old bill
He's known around this town
For selling dodgy pills
Guns, knives and slang
That's what you need
If you wanna be in their gang
No education
Just a stolen Playstation
And don't forget the ****
Even on a school night
They're out doing speed
You'll see 'em in the park
With a bottle of cider
Then they'll start
On a poor old-timer
Tracky bottoms
And a Burberry hat
Chav fashion
Cause they think they're all that
But the funny thing is
They don't have a clue
They don't think like
Me or you
They think that they're rap stars
Dreaming of fast cars
But they're just wankers
More like 'wannabe gangsters'
Janna Aug 2018
I think about you today
I remember the way
Your hand drifted
Onto my thigh
You stroked it ever so lightly
I let you
The air between us
Calm, not too hot
Neither was it cold
It was just right
I remember you now
Like an old sweater lost in my closet
Forgotten amidst all the brand new
But when found again
Deep within the membranes
Of memory after memory
It brings warmth to my body
A nostalgic smile to my lips
I miss you now
What we could have been
What if I chose you
What if I let your fingers
Stroke above my thigh
What if I let you take me home
What if we could have been more
What if
I can only say
What if
- soulwriterj
That time I let a soul mate go.
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