creatibe writing

How to mature (pt 2)

Watch strangers
at the bus station
in the mornings

and on the sidwalks
and park benches.

Their faces are
carved out of heartache
and aging
and broken homes;
cracked palms.

When they come for you,
let them take your bones,

let wind and time
carve sorrow into your skin

remain much too soft
for a concrete world

too much ocean
for a land without sea

Lovers At No Cost

I like who I am
When I am with you
I love who I am
When I am around you

No one in the room
No one in our space
Free to roam
In each others space

Just you and me
I only see you and me
Look at me
There’s more to me

What I like, personally
Only you know me personally
What I enjoy, especially
You surprise me pleasantly

So keep me personal
Just like your journal
And please me unconditionally
Then I will accept unconditionally

No need for questions
I don’t need to be questioned
Hush, let me get mine
And, I’ll give you mine

Miss PhennyBlack