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jenfyre
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thread
the old sewing needles rusted in my palms like redemption and broken promises they held me beautiful to the night as though there were nothing left but tragedies to hold me and I wake, still holding them like children in the bossom of broken
blotches
my body is a blister crusade of unintelligible surfaces we move shake chant indifferent to the boring memoirs sent down from gods forget me nots pigeon toed burdens break me like spring time hold my hand as I doubt. and I will honor your subtle silence in these cavernous remedies to flesh.
library
your smell. could not have been completed by those words the spell cast upon my weary chin was dancing disbelief hold me touch the ides of breath and bone we all feel the fire beneath the skin and i will not hold onto enough to loathe you. forgotten.
tarnished
my mouth is a set of rusted train tracks i have melted sensitive to enough wild eyes and broken sights that there is nothing but fear to be pressed into flesh can you tell me the dreams i have dreamt are impossible? lost with the last state of impermanence allowed, i soldier on-unremarkable.
mythology
we are translucent serpentine creatures biding time until the next life hold me to the moon wage war on every ounce of blood and bone that ponders its weaker defenses i wait, hold on. try and retrieve what has been lost/stolen/compromised figure out what is left within the hour glass-and pray to me.
obvious
I knew you couldn't love me-men like you Never do. Intimidation, control, naïve sense of self value Bought and sold like curtains-had nothing to hide but insecurities Can you hold the next-the way you held me? Lie to me, teach me what It means to betray My heart cracking, a little more than it used to When trust was never something I offered freely Truth be told, I could have loved you. I wished you would've paid closer attention. Now, I'm just that crazy girl that wanted you, when no one ever knew You the way I did-shut down, karma plays a new hand. Mine.
alter
we splay ourselves lonesome over cold stone as though the act itself creates the bravest form of inertia hold onto what is warmth starve for no less than gold patience is humbled mind is worn remember that we are all beautiful in silence.
paperclips
broken pages, waiting wordsmith the war is not over in my spine we hear the humbling of heart beats plain jane masochism is irrelevant in the meat glued impatiently to the bone hold me hard and fast pretend you never left me.