i go about pretendingA Poem by h d e rushin
Most of the time, I go about pretending that there is a part (though granted a small part) that wants to be tied up to the bed-post and my naked a*s whipped while I plead that the dominex invite me home for new poems. Especially on those days when I've slept too long on my face and the blood wells up behind my eyes. See, it's not always the heart; Sometimes the mind breaks as well. Because to be separated hurts to touch your elbow on the hot roof of it and loneliness makes the room dark and the furniture licorice and the sofa a too tight corn roll. And to that resounding that dragged me to it's lap: Please stop! I beg of you. Or in other words, Please don't/ © 2015 h d e rushinFeatured Review
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Added on September 15, 2015Last Updated on September 15, 2015 |

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