Poetry is a form of expression and a form of healing.
It allows us to freely let our minds flow.
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Gentle kisses, ones that I’ll be missing I just know it won’t last; the mentality is not the same In the meantime, grip my waist, you’re about to whisper lies in my ears, it’s okay I’ll patiently wait
You don’t want to explore her mind Yet you always texted her “when will you be mine?” “Your body and face look so divine”
Hurt inside smiling outwardly my anxiety takes me by surprise I get shooked and it makes me feel cowardly I leave my house early
Your flattery makes me feel vain after I stop smiling, I still feel the same pain that’s why I sit here and enjoy this champagne
Between fictitious dreams and a humanized reality I’m fucked up big time messed up indications can’t tell what’s real from fiction
Sick of his shit she sits there and licks her soft lips trying to voice her thoughts she wants him to specify why he became so dry
Roofied her thoughts into believing the transparency of his soul was pure their love then was premature still so young and immature
Finally, finally moving on from all your fucked up memories Somehow, somewhere I stumble & I fall And all the hard work goes to waste