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♥️
And at the sight of her, my little felt heart is ripped at the seams. Thrashed red yarn rumpled all in my hands, with my stuffing dirtying the floor. A face like a code; her blue eyes the keys to my little red heart now open for her inspection. Our memories lie on the floor.
-Me
Apr 21, 2025

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My four chambered friend writ across stolen paper your red walls pulsing in my hands with a song so loud, so salty sweet, my lover to devour in the afternoon up three thousand steps, poetry on company time, secrets held close to the chest like playing cards, nine of hearts in my arsenal like a cat falling from the roof eight times into oblivion I save my ace. I’m a hunk holding a hunk, I’m Casanova and I really want to know you, I’m a heart throb on a mission. My star across the sky and on a waiting list a meteor patiently in line at the self checkout, with a fistful of ibuprofen and a need to speed right into my bed. Answer my emails from between silk sheets with a rose between my teeth. Leak your devotion all over my best shirt on Mondays my love, come apart in my hands, melt into a silky hot drink for me to guzzle. Beat like a drum for me only, my ever-marching accomplice, you complete me. Let me crawl into you and take solace there I’ll eat you from the inside out, melt your walls down with my hands and leave no residue.
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i close my eyes and i see hers oh, i love her eyes gleaming and sparkling a look i’ve never seen before  her body on mine oh, i love her body her hands explore me oh, i love her hands feeling where nobody has been before i say her name oh, i love her name time has stopped there’s no telling what’s reality my head floats my stomach flutters i feel amazing  oh, i love her my body tenses i grab her hands oh, i love her hands she kisses me  i collapse into her oh, i love her i open my eyes she’s not here her eyes  her body her hands her love none of it’s here it’s all gone i search for it i demand it i need it i crave it oh, i love her oh, i love her oh, i love her how could someone i love so much hurt me this bad? and why am i not mad at her? oh, i love her
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A piece I wrote last year, right after the first time someone left me. That urge to find their eyes in other faces — and failing — feels painfully familiar again.
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