I Wonder What Would Happen If He Found Out He Was The Subject Of My Poetry. Maybe I'll Tell Him Before

I wonder what would happen if he found out he was the subject of my poetry. Maybe I'll tell him before he disappears forever... or maybe I'll add that to my list of regrets. Who knows.

“I’m not fascinated by people who smile all the time. What I find interesting is the way people look when they are lost in thought, when their face becomes angry or serious, when they bite their lip, the way they glance, the way they look down when they walk, when they are alone and smoking a cigarette, when they smirk, the way they half smile, the way they try and hold back tears, the way when their face says they want to say something but can’t, the way they look at someone they want or love… I love the way people look when they do these things. It’s… beautiful.”

— Clemence Poésy

~How is it easier to hide the skeletons in my closet than the scars on my arms when both are covered with only a few layers of cotton?~

-a poem of a new kind

~I want to know his deepest and darkest secrets in the deepest and darkest way~

-a poem of a new kind

~I wonder what his hand would feel like against mine. How would it look?

I wonder what his arms would feel like around me. How strong is he?

I wonder what his lips would feel like against mine. How would he taste?~

-a poem of a new kind

~Dark red lips and a cream coloured dress. Revenge is on the menu, and honey, I am starved~

-a poem of a new kind