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Destiny Fleming Dec 2016
I'm still waiting for the night
when your face isn't the skeletal
structure holding my entire being up

and your smile isn't the blood
flowing through my veins
keeping this ******* body of mine

the one night

when I'll be fine and the
realization that the throb
of missing you isn't fused
into my heart forever

but tonight is not that night

and i lay w a i t i n g
Destiny Fleming Sep 2016
i lie here, your deep breathing
tickling tiny wisps of my hair

the cracked ceiling tiles have
never looked so interesting

somehow, your warm body cocooned itself
around mine last night
and i can't bring myself to untangle
your limbs from mine

you're a box labeled: “FRAGILE.

and one thought flutters forward:
“oh, honey,
how no one handled you with care.”

my fingers trace “fragile” on your exposed skin,
as i count -one,two- the cracks
in the ceiling.
Destiny Fleming Aug 2016
it's funny how i watched you walk
away, eyes holding the floor as if
the secrets of the universe were
hidden in the cracked eggshell

and i know about how you looked back,
eyes starving and finding my face,
appetite then satisfied
and trust me,
i know about how your cheeks took
on the color of roses and you turned
away, pushing our memories even further
from the two of us.

i know all of this because my eyes
held your body captive in the clear blue
of them,
drowning you in so many tidal waves,
even as I longed to be your life vest. -DDF
Destiny Fleming Jun 2016
“you should probably go,”
I know, what an innocent, simple request

but no matter the innocence, it
starts a quake in my bones, a trembling
that shakes continents from my veins,
and rips loose whole cities from their
foundations nestled in between my knuckles  

i’m sorry. i know how hard it must be to
deal with my arms wrapping themselves
around you, boa constrictors after prey,
and pulling you ever so close, close enough
to feel your pulse beat against mine

to feel the quickening of my own heart,
knowing that now i must leave, leave and
put up a fight with the empty storage that is
my bed

i cannot begin to tell you how many times i have
fought the crippling loneliness that lays between
my sheets, an unwanted lover, and have portrayed
the abuse of a lost battle

too many times i have lied down to show
my surrender, and too many times i have
been beaten while doing so

you see, loneliness was never a fair contender
never a fair person to begin with, matter of factly
and when i say i’m undeniably sorry for my arms
holding you too close,
i mean it. -DDF
Destiny Fleming May 2016
(This is how i let go)
the best feeling in the
human body is when
your lungs push out
laughter that has long
been blocked by ruthless
words thrown around as if
they were nothing more than
raindrops when they were actually
and your smile is finally genuine
and crinkles your eyes,
the same eyes that spent too many hours
swollen from constant pain

but the absolute best feeling
in the
human body is when
your mind loosens it's
grip on the crazy notion
that you needed him to survive,
you needed him almost as if
you were an addict.

but rehab has made an angel out of
you and your body yet.
and how happy i am and will
continue to be now that you
have dropped the needle
you once used to inject him
into your veins.

(Help was never as far as we thought,
was it?)
******* going through some tough ****. Dying here.
Destiny Fleming Apr 2016
your finger tips trace novels
along my spine

your lips bury themselves
within my hair,
chapters following each strand

your whole being turns
my sorry excuse of an
existence into a New York
Times best seller

maybe one day I'll stop getting
our limbs so confused on
whose is whose
and actually climb out of
bed and show the world i am
what you made me out to be.

but for now,
I’m content in the sanctuary of
your arms,
our pulses struggling to
decipher if mine is yours,
and if your’s is mine.  -DDF
Destiny Fleming Mar 2016
when I close my eyes
I find simplistic nirvana
in remembering
the way his face shapes
as if it was molded with an effort
so meaningful that the artist
wanted to share it with the world

and to think that I was once
his version of a world that
needed a masterpiece added
to its gallery
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