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Open Poetry #26
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Kaoru
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Member Elite
since 2003-06-07
Posts 3892
where the wild flowers grow

0 posted 2003-06-10 04:26 PM


When I hang out with him,
  I feel like I'm a whore.
I didn't do anything with him,
I just sat in his car.
I didn't say much,
I wanted to get out and
come inside..go to bed.

But I know that when we're..like this..
I can't embrace you, nor you I..
I can't be cradled by your arms as I sleep.

I just don't get why I didn't
get out of his car...it's like I
really wanted to go but,
I stayed to appease him.
Like I had to sacrifice my comfort,
he just made me sick.

I still wished that..my head
was on just right and I could
understand why..
I mock myself from heart to mind,
and why I bury myself in a
never ending hunger for you.

Eventually, I'll crawl in to bed,
and say that I feel like
I'm home, but I'm not here at all.

© Copyright 2003 Meghan Armitage - All Rights Reserved
ethome
Member Patricius
since 2000-05-14
Posts 11858
New Brunswick Canada
1 posted 2003-06-10 04:40 PM


This is quite a display of emotional turmoil...interesting images...Languaged very differently.
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