personal

soul, baby. soul

it’s almost complete. distance between falling apart
from whispering secrets, sequence you act non chalant
like, a purist in person. told you to stop kissing my heart
questioned why, choking back tears. au revoir
so insincere. brassiere draped over post traumatical scar
and it’s worthless. holding hands under jupiter mars
deafening stare. kaleidoscopic. where we grew afar
or begun growing. to knowing it was doomed to begin with
congruent in interests. confusing indifference
with sultry disclosure. whispering secrets. a bottle of stol’
acting as if you didn’t already know
marlboro rogue. leads in my chest. heart in my throat
it’s okay because, a month is barely a whisper
speaking sweet nothings with nobody to listen
I’m sorry I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
evolving into something without your permission
where’s the accomplice? bonnie with a gun to their clyde
are we only partners in crime when the love has subsided?
you threw me a bone. how oddly shakespearean
homeopathic dosage delirious
slowly becoming romeo through the experience
juliet, my rose, you told me not to pick flowers for you
to let them grow and die without interference from you
i slowly understood what you meant what you said
when you blinked once and said nothing in bed
trojan horse valentines gift. hold it close to your breast
let me invade you. while we both hope for the best
how to enjoy a private dinner, without making a noise
paris to my helen- keep kidnapping my voice
cross an ocean, fight the army waiting at troy
calloused rejoice. carry the spoils from my battle deployment
wearing a cast on the places you touched out of choice
colliding connection, copasetic, catharsis, caress.
coalescing conversations under our breaths
touching soil under toes. label it normal behavior
letting out guttural moans, sultry, fluttering. flavor
it’s okay. i get it. it’s just sand in the wind
to drinking from chalices any chance that we get
to get lost in inebriation, just to forget
how we treat each other when we kiss with our …..
my mother once said, my child you love without any condition
a gift i admire in you. it worried her sick
to be at arms with a lovelust, gun to your neck
shot glass throwback. wipe off the taste from my lip
barely consent to this insatiable tryst
listening to playlists, and the rain hit our heads
save me a seat. musical chair gallantry version
you were the last one standing when i asked myself who is your perfect
and who can touch you in ways you haven’t learned
also who is the single most dangerous person
and who gives you this doable courage
and to that, who is the only one that can hurt it

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