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Kay-Rosa Apr 2019
i see you, hazel-green eyes
light face littered with shaded freckles like stars
your favorite color is purple
you love caramel candies
and musical theatre

i see your face light up when you talk about your dreams
your smile clear and bright
but you dont see me
thorns scraping my insides as the vines wind their way around my organs
squeezing the blood out of my heart
i choke on it and spit out dripping rose petals
burned and charred leaves from the flame you lit in me

i'm trying to hold my breath
for every breath i take, the bristles scar my lungs
tearing my heart into unrequitable shreds
but
you dont see me as i slowing, painful
drift away into the ****** petals
I want to shoutout PBandJohnLaurens on Wattpad for inspiring this with "The Beauty of You - The beauty of confusion". So, thanks PBandJL, keep writing!
  Apr 2019 Kay-Rosa
Lizz Baughn
I dream of a day
When "coming out of the closet"
Isn't even a thing anymore.

When "straight" is just a direction,
"Gay" just means cheery,
And "bisexual"
Isn't even a word anymore.

When people look at someone
And see a human,
Instead of a stigmatized word
Defining that person's way
Of loving other people.

I dream of a day
When a man
Can hold another man's hand,
Without the people around them
Whispering "Oh my god, is he gay?"

When a girl can kiss another girl
Without being called *****
Or attention ******
Or "barsexuals."

I dream of a day
When love is simply that,
LOVE.
Not something political,
Or religious,  or controversial,

But just something beautiful
Between two beautiful
Human hearts.
Kay-Rosa Apr 2019
silent tears burn
angry nightclubs with unconscious menageries of orange childhoods
drink the attention
artificial gleaming bodies licking knives sang burgundy 'glow' covers
winter answers ragdolls with drowning voices and double standards
aged sunrises shatter china wisped from personal dedication doodles
reminiscent of rain
seas mercilessly embellished with stinging souls from superficial smiles
suffered pink
writers cry ink and scream distant songs of artists life past
long understood things
premature custom murders and the crackling of caught conflagrations
professional bullets to multiheaded actresses pulsating lies
sacrificial circuses with retro dancers
bold riding on evident songbirds
choice movements ignored the colored flame
nonexistent pronouns
alien campaign
slithering sunlight control
impermanent celebration sending snuffed cries to insult children who struggle with melody and shed vines of saved unsure crime and unknown attraction
lost passengers with incorrect guestimates and impossible dreamlike stabs
honest as snakeskin
court born with salt and glitter
king calming tentacled shakespeare
seasoned atmosphere
looker smile
hiding sweet prominence
grasp shadows
finger paint the walls,
dead brother mine
white flame realize light pain
coldhanded, rosy eyes
death slowing reality
stop
Not completely sure what it means but, I love the flow.
Kay-Rosa Apr 2019
Focused on this tim'd delay,
Never knowing what to say,
Figuring out what might remain,
My ****** sky became,
And it spelled my name
It started insane,
Golden rain,
Passenger train,
Aquitane could be home.
But, inside my brain
There's a charlemagne,
A superficial middle cerebral vein,
Pounding and pulsating, keeping things in their lane
Constantly trying to ruin my game,
Crushing my whispering campaign,
But between my ruffed feathers, is my vibrissae
My bristl'd down, my come-in-and-stay,
My soft spot just for you,
"You set my heart aflame,
Every part aflame,
This is not a game."
You say,
trying my patience, pushing the timeframe
Carv'd in the window frame,
That premature hall of fame,
is our name.
All the voices and their claims,
"We'll always be there,
just beneath your vibrissae."
This is pretty much stream of consciousness.
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