And all these mediocre men
Made me complicit in their plight
Leaving me stitching up their wounds
While they devoured half my light
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Love, Ross Lynn.
And God…it was heaven.
It was everything I’d never experienced before;
It was being seen,
It was being heard,
It was being loved.
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I’m the one you love a little less
Than the one you love the most
I’m the one who when you look at me
You’re thinking of her ghost
I’m the one who when you hear my laugh
You wish it was her tune
And I’m the one that, though I know you don’t
I wish you loved me too
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I dropped a can
On the bed where we lay lying,
Too frivolous in nature to keep our touch from dying
And swollen lips,
But none of them for me.
My stubbornness deters you from the place you ought to be.
I start to think that maybe we could make our shades in Purple:
If all combined could help us break this circle.
But in your eyes,
With their Green flecks,
The truth is all too clear:
You never will be simplified to shades in waves and tears.
So on this bed, I sit and keep our fingertips from grazing.
The scent of all my orange paint endearing but quite dazing
I smile to see you stand and leave,
I’m left with all but sorrow
I close my eyes and think about the wet sheets washed tomorrow.
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I’ll think when it gets light outside,
But know that I’ll feel just the same.
The way you made them feel inside;
And who am I to change the scene?
To get you stuck? To make you stay?
When every bright eyed minx before,
You’ve simply kissed and ran away.
I know that I can take some pain,
A broken heart, am ache or two.
But when it’s a repeated scene,
It means it’s not just me or you.
I’m well aware that that’s the game.
The sun won’t shine for one, it’s true.
But what I can’t take is the shame,
Of knowing I’m just one to you.
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In order of rank, the things in life that make me blissfully happy are dogs, music, and the idea that someday somebody could love me. Not in a parental way and not because they felt biologically obligated but because they saw me and they heard me…and they loved me, simply because they could.
I want someone to fall asleep dreaming of the pout of my lips, the brown of my eyes and the high pitched, often seal-like, squeal of my laugh.
My teenage brain wants someone to single out every quality of mine that I ever thought was detestable and show me that it was all this time, always worth loving.
P.S Thank you for reading! I post of my writing on Instagram here.
I can make it
feel both beautiful and sweet
I can make it
so it’s hard for you to sleep
I can make
you immune to every other “she”
To every girl’s charm that isn’t me
I can make
you question every single thought
every lie that you’ve ever been taught
shivering with pleasure…or is it with pain
calling me pretty whilst thinking I’m vain
I can make
you feel this and oh so much more
feuding emotions, all those worlds to explore
I could make
you feel all this
I’d do it for
Only price is you wanting to be with me
I thought I knew writing, was always so sure.
A come before B and he before her
And full stops were best and where commas
Now every line feels like I’m failing a test
I thought I knew music, I knew I had skill
Each pitch and each note with my range I could
And wavers of voice, now no longer my choice
The songs sung before have escaped from my voice
I thought I knew colours, could name every
Could tell every Lilac from purple or blue
Now I stare at the walls and my vision just
I see no more colour when pacing the halls
I thought I knew artwork, yes all this is
Knew music, knew writing, knew lilacs from
Was sure of it all, yes still this is true
I knew who I was until I met you.