lukewarm with passion

Feedback Received!

why does my heart only fill
when we are empty?
heres the end of the
road/the
line/the
world:
i want to be finished.
but
scrub off your birthmarks
disinfect your dreams,
and i’ll bruise my knees on
feathered pavements again.
i want to be
finished,
i want to be
myself,
i want to be
entangled in flaws and feelings.
i’m wont to
don hazmat suits and
embrace you in a filing cabinet of my compartmentalised psyche
so i’ll close my eyes when we kiss
(and all the other times too)
and gulp down formaldehyde at candlelit dinners, just
touch me until i
lose sensation in my chest,
darling.

be as harsh as you feel appropriate, i really want to get better!! i have no idea what a “poetry” is, i write prose that just became increasingly abstract until i got to this point??? i have no idea! also, this is the third time i’m trying to post this i have no clue what’s going on with formatting, sorry if it’s messed up

links: 1 and 2

Posted Jun 5, 2018, 11:16 AM UTC · edited

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