Bathed in kerosene, burning this field of tulips. My ineffable.
Tag: love
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As the smoke settled,
I could see fire;
crimson blazed in her irises.
I was but ember and ash
flashbacks of that same shade
twirling in my fingertips
as if I could see fallen spirits.Sawyer S.
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Dopamine releases.
No longer puzzled by our scattering pieces.
Another hypothermic kiss, adrift.
Sunk in the depths of her endless abyss.
I miss the sugar and how it lingered on her lips,
but it was just another hypothermic kiss.
Sawyer S.
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“A Mug for You, Too.” By Sawyer S. “Feral Thought” is Addict Brain Poetry’s former pen name.
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My dear Sapphire Sophia,
with reservoir irises that have abandoned Autumn.
You cannot forgive what has already been forgotten.
Thorns blossom from the asphalt.
My dear Sapphire,
it was never our fault.
Sawyer S.
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Upon barren soil,
a single tulip blossoms;
resuscitation.
Sawyer S.
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If I ever have the chance of change,
I shall don this hood
and not puddle from rain.
Sawyer S.
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a novel: insecurity, departed
prologue: an angel turned harlot with chapters splattered in scarlet
his carcass is tarnished, heartless
he felt like a fallacy, a malady rotting much like the spoiled apple she gave him that brisk December day.
he gave it to every angel since though rumor slanders him as a thorned prince
today there is much to his garden. Autumn has shared her harvest.
and if all remains honest, these pages shall not be tainted in scarlet
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Puppeteer princess,
mercy, a Siren will sing.
Knot the noose of string.
Sawyer S.