I use this space mostly to write poems that are a result of a rush of emotions rather than ideas
I want my knight in shining armour. to love me so pure and deep. love my hard-earned chiseled collarbones. fine stitched-up nose. round firm ass that took 10000 squats to achieve.
Like a child whose heart broke Watching her favourite doll's ripped chest flowing with Cotton I weep in silence As I remember How I was once sure That you wanted me The way the child Wanted her...
We've left our footprints in the oddest of places. The abandoned. The dingy. The dusty. The filthy. And I always thought that any place is a good place. As long as I have you next to me.
Forgive me if I sound too realistic. But I feel that we live in a world where everything people say about beauty sounds too convenient. Lovers tell their girls that their bodies are beautiful.
In the soft pink spring of blossoming flowers. The pockets of my favourite jacket. Which once belonged to you. Were full of glossy polaroids with both of our most grotesque expressions.
Dear Comfort. On a calm, rainy day. Whose velvety touch blanketed me in warmth. And washed over my racing, thudding heart. You ran away some nights ago. And left me screaming into my sheets.
Back then when she told you about how the view of laundry poles hanging from windows above your heads can actually look quite pretty, You chuckled at how earnest she sounded and tried to ignore...
My wit does me justice. By showcasing the vastness of my knowledge. In sufficient amounts. My reflection is satisfactory. For it reflects attributes that can be accepted. In sufficient amounts.
The last time I tried. To make someone smile. I was told to stop trying. Because I simply just can't. The last time I needed. Someone to make me smile. I was told that other people.