mary

lovedud

i hate when i find myself lying next to you. 

which i always do, indefinitely. 
curled up in your infection, swapping sloppy diseased kisses 

i feel like an alien in your brilliance. 

or maybe convinced intelligence, oppressive mental olympics 

your collar bone is gleaming green, seeping puss 

comforting, strangely to me, wanting me to drink and slirp it up 

your sweaty tongue bleeds spit onto my sheets 

maybe i said something that i shouldn't say? 

maybe i said something to scare you away? 

because it's easier for me. 

the next time i'm on top of you i'm ripping your head off. 

you giggle. 

turn pink and soft, curled up in my beehive. 

sweet and sticky and salty and warm. nectar in my stomach. 

maybe i like waking up in a fuss next to you. watch your eyelids 
blossom like orchids. 

maybe i like waking up next to you. 

maybe i am terrified. 

bend me until i don't recognize my self. change my shape to perfect meadows. 

make me smell like you. make me think what you want me to. 

 

  • Author: jm (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: September 14th, 2020 01:35
  • Comment from author about the poem: lust and love are not =
  • Category: Love
  • Views: 46
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