

PoetryI want to write poetry on your skin. I want to sink my teeth into the ridge of your hip until there's a five-seven-five pattern there. I want to take pens and markers and razor blades and carve an epic into you, laving typos with my tongue. I want to claw sonnets on your back, fourteen lines of fingernail marks in perfect iambic pentameter. I want fingerprint-bruise-coupletsPoetry
on your forearms and red-half-moons of villanelle
on your inner thighs. I want you stretched out and tied to the bedposts like new paper, clean and begging for me to cover yo
Yin and Yang
I'm not sure if you'll ever even get this message, maybe you forgot about your Deviant art or your username, I don't care.
This is that place where I can send you a message you may never get, but possibly will.
I hate you so much, I hate everything you've done to me, but there's nothing that means more then having you close to me.
Take care of yourself, remember what we went through and learn from it. I wish good things for you, I only hope things could have been different.
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Hello.... God? It's me... Dennis... You know, Your Equal...
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