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Yada yada yada
we're not kids anymore.
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Kiana Khansmith

#extradirty
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Andulka
Mike Driver

roma★

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taylor price
Show & Tell

shark vs the universe
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PR's Tumblrdome

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Origami Around
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@theomensofher
Submit nudes/sexy photos anonymously or for a shoutout or we can trade
Yada yada yada
My love.
Write me the best of your day?
Catatonia
You'll be a thing soon.
“There is no desert in the memory I have of you.”
Every Night
It’s always a novel left unfinished A poem left untouched A story left undeveloped An idea left unwritten To remind me that I am a writer Whose work will never be done
Shall I Sew Them?
My heart says words that my mouth cannot sitting in silence but my mind is shouting
Words no one can hear I bury them deep inside if they escaped I’d swallow them whole I’m too afraid to say the things
I keep bottled up, locked within.
I’ve swallowed the key So my heart keeps screaming
while I sew my lips shut.
I am a Goddess
Our eyes bound in a haze of ecstasy, we don’t part. In your hands I am a Goddess. In your arms I am safe from the waves. I hope she said so.
Perhaps
Your arrival is wildfire dancing to my doorstep, I stand up straight my knees clap sparks, this, I know, is an upcoming tragedy I want to put myself into.
Naturals
On the shore of my dream we don’t struggle so much. The moon pulls more fiercely, yes, so that our blood rises, yes, but we still manage to speak in low moments while the ocean sends cellophane fingers to wrap around our ankles, intent on dragging us awake. your absence piles into me: a cotton sheet along my back. in the afternoon, I will declare myself lonely (to myself), at night I will sit and write poems to you and re-enact your hair. stay in these trees with me a bit longer, until the leaves senescence and are lost in flutters to the wind, each by each. Descending our naturals and wrapping us bit by bit.
I Remember
I remember crying over you and I don’t mean a couple of tears and I’m blue. I’m talking about collapsing and screaming at the moon.
Time and Again
If someone asks me:
“What have you done yesterday?” “I put a comma.” “And what have you done today?” “I erased it again.”
No Chance Given
“They say I’m a poet that my words make her beautiful; they don’t understand that I am not. I think that the sea is deep and blue and that is as far as I can go with expressions, they don’t understand that she is poetry and I’m just reading”
I must admit I fell hard for you and to be honest you gave me no choice.