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Stings of Love
My face is a canvas
He is the artist
My body is a canvas
He is the sculptor
My mind is a canvas
He is the writer
Sea of worldly whiteness
That I wished to fall into and
Drown
I float motionlessly
As you take from me everything
More than you can hold, than you deserve, than you need
It spills over me, through your harsh, merciful, gentle, cruel
Hands
Make it red
Black eyed (lovely lady)
Tilt me back
My eyes sparkling with gold
I think we are out of gas, my
Love
(Why do you think so, sweetheart?)
It is in the deathly darkness
That I see you most clearly
Help me
I’m in love, I think I’m in love
I’m in love, I believe I’m supposed to be in love
I hate that I think and believe I’m in love
I love that I know I hate
It
At least I know
You love me, don’t you?
( Yes, darling. More than you could ever dream of)
I haven’t dreamed in a long long time
Only the stars have reflected on me
Is this what love is?
Purple rings and purpled thoughts
Never ending blush
On my cheeks, hips, thighs
You write on my wall, you sleep in my bed, you are always here
Are you even real?
(I want to go home? When is home? Where is home? )
He says he’ll come for me
Don’t (go)
(I love you)
My succulent blood red lips
Pierced by poisonous thorns
Numb everything, everything
But the passionate roses that grow out of it
Out of the cracks in my
(Immaculate)
(Beautiful)
Broken body
(I love you)
I hang on that sole string of love
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A piece born from the sorrows of those trapped in an inescapable cocoon of intoxicating love.