You were torn, ripped, and fraying at the edges... With faded colors and careless smudges. Self-destruction had since deemed you worthless... Yet my hand craved the cracks that had formed upon your surface.
You were torn, ripped, and fraying at the edges... With faded colors and careless smudges. Self-destruction had since deemed you worthless... Yet my hand craved the cracks that had formed upon your surface.
πππβπ about true love
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Possibly ππ
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I’m sureπ€πΉπ
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Hands shaking, heart beating, these words break apart, the victimhood I built for so long, release me from prison, to breathe, to live, to again simply be
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Dear poet. I loved the complete poem. Another poem for you.
“You stripped off your clothing,
then using your hands, you tried to hide the scars on your skin.
I went to my knees and I kissed every scar and I asked you.
Please dear love,
I want every story of every scar on your body.
We are our scars of many dear lover.
Life is dancing on hell-fire and we learn.
Every scar written on our skin.
A story to be written.”
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Another beautiful one β€οΈβ€οΈβ€οΈ
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Reblogged this on anastasiakalantzi59.
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Thank you!!!
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