I am not kind.
I am not brave.
I am the lingers of the storm that has longed past.
I am dangerous that way.
h
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@mavaka
I am not kind.
I am not brave.
I am the lingers of the storm that has longed past.
I am dangerous that way.
When I saw you again,
I realized that nothing had changed, the storm that lingered under my skin still shook, and rumbled. And cracked.
And Gods, I realized. I am hopeless for you.
I saw someone who looked like you.
I thought it was you -- and in that spilt moment--
I knew,
I knew I still loved you.
And it scares the hell outta me.
Lizzo did a DNA test, and she is 100% that bitch;
I did one for me, and it turns out I am not my fathers child.
Life is currently, a running joke.
i often think of you,
even when i don’t wish too,
and that, darling.
hurts the most.
When he held me tight with His lips devowering my soul.
I felt helpless. Lost in pleasure and pain of another shuttering release.
When he entered me, pushing down my fear, my anxiety -- it was heaven.
I let him have me.
In the way, most men do.
My legs trembled under his touch.
My core Shook from his mouth.
I felt alive for the first time in months.
Last night, i cried.
There was no rhyme or reason.
Simply. Tears.
For whom, i do not know but i cried for them & maybe for myself too.
Just because these walls are made up of concrete -- that doesn't mean they arent paper thin.
I draw on her legs with my fingers; traveling maps of ways long lost;
further. further.
I trace the rivers of her veins;
higher. higher.
to the peak of everything, to her heart, her soul.
she is everything, my roadmap home.
A poetess writes about her loves and losses;
Her heart and mind; but never about the true loneliness she feels--
why is that?
i want to wear your hands like bracelets, like necklaces;
mavaka
He is the spartan on the battlefield; quick, swift, brutal. it is sand, and rock.
I am the Shield maiden on the mountain; quiet, ready, listening. it is sea, and earth.
Gods;
Does love transcend centuries?
My love craves to be touched;
Every moment, he clings to me, not wanting my hands to leave him.
are you listening, Darling?
I love you.
I would rather hear coyotes and owls-- than cars and gunfire.
Mavaka
Gravely Misplaced.
She dresses up for her lovers in front of me. She tells me what she does with them. What she wants them to do, What they wont do.
She temps me, tells me and lets me know, she could never reciprocate my feelings -- only because she wouldn't know what to do with another girl. its too weird for her. Too complicated.
What is supposed to hurt most?
The fact that my love for her was gravely misplaced-
or the fact that she continues to say, she loves to love girls, only for the status of it.