Toxic

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You’re the furthest thing from any form of knight in shining armour
In actuality I’ve already found mine
But I am captivated by the vigour of your free spiritedness
Somewhat consumed by the brooding of your aura
I am addicted to the way in which its easy
and the way that nothing ever needs to be said
I am captivated by our relationship of metaphors
Stimulated by the subtext of our blunt conversation
Deep ocean blue eyes that suppress everlasting adoration
Mischievous smirks that speak a world of sharp truthfulness
Truthfulness that should never be spoken
I am entranced by the shameless way you talk it anyway
And the shameful way you know it

Some days

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Some days I’m barely making it out on my own two feet.
I’m gliding on fear and confusion,
grappling on the ledge of desperation –
Desperation and despair
Some days I’m deafened by the pounding
of my heart, and the rush
of blood in my ears. F e a r.
Some days I’m blinded by the dryness of my eyes. The
greyness of my vision. The bleakness of my mornings,
in-betweens, and nights.
alone again.
I’m weary of life. Weary of consistent living. Weary
of my comfort in nothingness.

Steadfast

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Is it not enough
that I have the ghost of your touch
lingering on my skin?
That the tips of my fingers still tingle
with the echo of your stubbly cheek,
every time I breathe your name?
That the memory of your hands
still makes me stroke my cheek and
the memory of your eyes are still branded in my soul?
Is it not enough
that your shadow lays beside me
when on Siberian nights I finally
coax myself to sleep?
That your laugh still echoes inside
my walls like Dorothy’s cruel tornado.
I am cursed to feel your presence
in the place I called my haven.
I had let you into paradise,
my cool, tattered paradise.
I had you dreaming of my sheets, and the innocence of my glare –
I took you homeless took you hungry,
Gave you shelter and caresses
Gave you purpose showed you hope
from the chest of my affection.
Is it not enough
that all I wanted was redemption
yet I’m haunted by demons –
your steadfast footsteps.

Love you like I know I shouldn’t

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I’ve experienced a lifetime of abandonment.
Men walked into my life just as fast as they left.
Father figures blew kisses, locked with lies, masked as promises, telling me, ‘don’t worry, I’ll be back.’
So when you walk into my life, and I let myself, unwillingly, and painfully love you; love you like I know I shouldn’t.
I tense, and I reel, and I lock myself up inside so I don’t have to feel the foreboding sense of pain.
When you tell me you’ll be back. And everything I know, everything that I’ve ever known, tells me that you won’t.



Escapisms

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I’ve found too many forms
of escapisms in my lifetime
I’ve discovered that the best thing
that I sometimes know how to do is
run
– occasionally with my head over my shoulder long enough to trip me up and drag me back to the source of my
so called problems.
And so I keep myself running
find solace in alcohol
a wonderland in cigarettes
and a place far, far far away in poison
until
the end of the night
when
I’m curled up
when
the thumping bass’s gone
when
I’m alone again
when
I come to remember that
I can never escape for long enough,
I can never escape far enough,
to get away from myself.

warm. ready, loving. waiting.

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I’d not heard your voice in a while

a few days maybe

I’m not too sure maybe

But i remember when i called you last;

I masked the tears on my face by strengthening my cracking voice.

You were so far away, and i needed you

i needed the scent of your skin, the warmth of your hands,

I needed the sound of your voice, the security of your arms

because i was scared

and it was one of those days where the pessimism cut me so deep nothing could yank me out. nothing but your smile and your hair in my hands as i held on to you tight

I was scared. that my heart was breaking again, breaking prematurely, in preparation for worst case scenarios spinning out of control in my mind

so I called you that night. I called you.

I heard you,

i heard you like i hear you now.

warm. ready, loving. waiting.

you’re real

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You’re a portal in disguise of a blackhole

I don’t even know what I could possibly want from you

I don’t even know a future with you

half the damn time I don’t even know if you’re really good for me

But I know that I call you crying

and a few minutes later my tears are dry

I know that you piss me off

but then I just can’t seem to hold that damn grudge

because

I need you to validate

that we’re both crazy

And I know that best friend isn’t enough

and if anything, we’re far from lovers

But you’re something

something real to me

in this fucked up life im living