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EXPECTATIONS
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@apartofm-blog
insignificant matter...
insignificant matter…
we put our focus on matters of self-importance and give time, effort, and attention to what we choose feed the matter watch it grow and the insignificant matter other things we ignore things we push away intentionally place in silence when ignored and stilled are things withering fading away dying in the shadows and deeper dark
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heart palmed origami… For #novemberfall on Instagram
wind songs… #novemberfalls on IG
Red lined...
Red lined…
guess that is the way    to want…desire; yet not be she scratched off; red lined
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touch of sunlight… #novemberfalls on Instagram
cut up pieces...
cut up pieces…
Let it wash over me let me feel every bit of it let me recognize this moment take on; understand the truth of it revel in the aching quiet smell it covering my skin soaking into memory swallowed; gutted inhale; lingered in lungs push into my viens inject rushing brine my blood in abandonment cut out my overwhelming duality dry up this ocean drown my firestorm keep me here in this state dark…
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everytime...
everytime…
Why always this kind    blazing hot step back silent leaves fallen stupid cunt
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Good night beautiful World
uncertainty...
uncertainty…
And then I question everything I am have I misrepresented am I unaware of graffiti splayed inside my palms bold or subtle art between my thighs a third eye closed left feeling spurned and burned fire and ice scarring am I sonar for maybe/not beacon pings speaking come rest darling break open the floodgates… this flood pursues me and I choke on your existence your silence your impulsivity slip…
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an intrusion...
an intrusion…
each speak for themselves beautiful lilt my awe; admiration only a black mark an intrusion…
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the gratitude chamber...
the gratitude chamber…
to you all of you who find the time to read my words to like them to leave wonderful comments my heart is filled Thank you so much from the most beautiful chamber of my heart ❤️M
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mishapen...
mishapen…
It’s her heart mishapen she isn’t the right kind there’s no niche no cove nor nest that she can safely rest everyplace she lands glass shards of crashed love make her bleed they are never healed she never the exclusive
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she; not his risingÂ
where has she been this soul embedded deep a woman heart shaped how long her scent lingers of roses and orchid amber woods tucked away far from his love has she always known eons and wonder birthed a million suns does he know her evers does he read her eyes touch her pages perhaps not For she is not his rising glory nor setting place oh but he… to she… ageless and dwelling
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maroon skin...
maroon skin…
purple marks & stripes of red maroon Skin lashing poetry every expression unsated and different words struggle through tinged tongue licking stings meditating lips burning curves and rising nips like wildfire rush begs to come
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love or beheading…
Sewn and fade…rewriteÂ
blue...
blue…
her poetic language ineffective his dark blue blood cruelest of flow; impulsive alchemy that comes with fire …he comes only departingÂ
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