dying brazen whore by Cathrine Podulke

love is here in your heart

my love is not found yet

valentine's words exactly precisely

must we all love?

why do we suffer like this for our own kind?

it's not fair to those who love not

G

R

R

is that the cry of a frustrated angst-ridden teenager almost 20 with no
experience in life or love or trust or truth
childish games we ALL play especially now

I'm not here to judge people.

i'm here to live
life is a peaceful co-existence with an unruly earth

living is not what i do, but i want it
living has not been a gift
to me
living is something i must wait for
unjustly
shape or form do not matter

waiting

waiting for human contact is the
s l o w e s t thing in existence
no one
touches with kindess it's all out of
PITY

for my wretched existence

i stare at the ceiling as smoke drifts past my bleary eyes it curls
intimately around my hands and playfully infuses my hair with its delicious
scent caressing my skin as a lover would intent on relaxation like one of
those idiot box movies where the sweet girl all creamy comes and touches
lightly the bronzed skin of the hero MAN to the rescue ever protecting his
(brilliant)
misstresses wardrobe consists of silk and chiffon
(dyed dying)
slowly floating in the ocean like a medusa dangerous tentacles come to wrap
around deliciously hungry for flesh like the sun starved creamy honey's
legs of old
there is no girl
there is no brazed bronzed hero MAN to come rescue
there is no

is

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