Don’t look for love.
Be love.
i have many questions for you. is love your lips - the way they curve when i run my thumb across them. is your heart
By Sara about a year ago in Poets
your house was never a home and not for lack of trying. you hung pictures and planted flowers and opened all the windows.
you almost own me. you dress me in your clothes after you rip mine off and i wear you ‘round my neck in purple scars.
you want to own me so i wear you ‘round my neck in a string of purple. i wear your clothes and sleep in your bed (on my side).
you are written on the vertebrae of my spine where it curves and breaks. your words are teeth buried in the sand: digging into
i live only in mirrors. in glass walls of illusion held up to my eyes - a wicked dance’s reflection. i exist in pixels
By Sara 2 years ago in Poets
i live a million lives while you sleep. i live a life of mornings where the sun burns and i find you in the cupboards
my throat is empty because there is a city in my lungs and it breathes for me. i do not need air. there are oceans
me and you are like the sunset. (inevitable). painfully beautiful. burning bronze. it is always day’s end of the last day
i loved him like the sun. i spilled my rays into his pockets so he could carry my heart. i traced his face with gold.
he loved me like the moon. sometimes it was full, almost milky and it spilled light all over my skies. other nights i could not find him
i loathe the curves of my hips that were stolen from a man. i was created to be poured into so i know the hole in my chest
