To be loved is one thing
but to love is another entirely
and I have been under the notion that my
love is offensive
(and I do not want to offend)
so I swallow my love and my lust
back down
like warm whiskey I keep in a bottle
under my bed
(where I want to lay you out)
I am so terrified that you could not want
someone like me
I am not what I seem
(I am a work in progress, still growing)
but if you were to call me by my name
that's all it would take
(I want you to know me)
I deserve an honest love
(I am not asking for much)
or an open and raw lust
(I think I'd like that better)
see me how I am
whoever you are
and when we are inside each other
say my name
YOU ARE READING
Dysphoria
Поэзия"I dreamt I grew roots and sunk into deep earth, Where mud became my skin and dampened grains freckled my surface, I opened my mouth wide for the sprouting branches Leaf-speckled limbs And sunflowers blossomed from my eyes, Sunlight bled in waves, w...
