soft boy.

wat is a heart?
hows does it move?
touch?
can it
be great enough to manifest itself like love
even when starting encounters speak contrary?

my thoughts are always corridors
walking trauma
and male shaped silhouettes
who made their own endings
from acting…

acting…
i am acting.
screaming
and begging rape
with a soft voice

“your body feels warm”
he kisses to me
for once this room is closed to the other eyes moving about
we kisses
scratches
sucks nipples
bites and makes well before another tearing.
he massages into me. my limbs can hold but feel cold
should i be a bridge…

should i decide that
then i know. i must be be
much more than carrying.

cause healers cannot heal with cold hands
and a love gained through dissonance
no matter wat other intention was present

i came here to feel something. i came here to feel something. i came here to feel something.
i came here longing for something at first physical.

“i want you so much”
our skin desires intention
and i manifest truth out of his words regardless of what their actual meaning is.
i need him to be truth speaking.
to encourage my own
to encourage a new blossoming
flowers don’t birth out of maddening craze and i have been in this one for a month of Sundays.
my spirit begs for an out
warns me of its coming death
if i am not careful i will be a vessel
hollow

our skin
with thirst, limes, sweetness, and courage
have moved over these places before
where seeing is discouraged, where we retrace the same
continuously obsessed with reworking the outcome
because we know no other way to meet passed exposed asses, one syllable smoke signals, or wanting eyes.

continuously obsessed with a world free of harm.

spirit and craze
like oil and water
originate in separate powers
sit in disharmony
things move without gravity, up walls and ah question, albiet foolishly, that if i can move past these same steps
if i can get to a point past heavy
then maybe something more can be mine
truly

an’ if pieces of mah heart are found
shattered,
neglected,
in filth,
then i ask for them to be spared of wat hurt can be added
save them the strain mah running gave.

i came here to feel something physical
because it is one of the only ways i know to connect

i see him in smiles
he offers an opening
an’ i can’t hold that real

its whimsical
a memory- an air thought
of asking to be held
a sensitivity

a space my heart knows and yet cannot discover

only evil finds itself unable to find reason in kisses
an’ its a constant undoing
to find reason
it demands great bravery of us.

an’ here i hear, ancestors
be careful young creator, we need you well enough for words

we need you well
unpenetrated
left alone
from from bad alchemy
transmuting disease.

we bout to live now.

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