Actuality and Angst #19

It’s been long.
Turns out reading poetry helps in writing some too.

I cried in bed tonight
Fingers dipped in my
Own intimacy, They
Swirl in the depths
Of my heavy breaths,
Tonight I have jitters at
The back of my head
My thoughts are bleeding
A smooth flavour of red
I have been told instead
To believe what I think
And to think what I want
But my desires often feel
Like a string of taunts
That condense into tears
Reflecting a past that
Sometime haunts.


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