Beramode, блог «Faded Fantasy»
My kisses have left their marks оn your shoulders
Like fiery bites of a snake.
Beramode, блог «Faded Fantasy»
I want to be seduced by a man, I run out again, feather to the wind, full of wild expectations, out in the spring night.
Beramode, блог «Faded Fantasy»
My parents are redoing their porch,
peeling off the wallpaper and painting it
the color of fog оn wet mornings.
We soak the paper and some of it comes off
in long strips. It’s satisfying
to tear and rip and shred it from the wall.
Other pieces cling to the paint
like meat to a bone and we scrape at it
wanting to expose the room’s underbelly,
the old wood panels underneath.
Sometimes I want to peel back
the layers of my heart and find
what I’ve left behind, what I’ve hidden;
the soft bones, the part of me that’s true.
Beramode, блог «Faded Fantasy»
I don’t want you to save me. I want you to stand by my side as I save myself.
Beramode, блог «Faded Fantasy»
That’s the thing about introverts; we wear our chaos in the inside where no-one can see it.
Beramode, блог «Faded Fantasy»
Beramode, блог «Faded Fantasy»
So, if you are too tired to speak, sit next to me because I, too, am fluent in silence.
Beramode, блог «Faded Fantasy»
I don’t trust words. I even question actions - but I never doubt patterns.
Beramode, блог «Faded Fantasy»
-Where does the difference between the past and the future come from?
-Mine? Before you and after you.
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