Intimacycolours
A sycophantic, prophetic, Socratic junkie wannabe

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Written by Intimacycolours

my life

is such a mess

the dust

has no place

to lay

i keep my mind

cluttered

so that there is no

room for you

m.l. awad

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Written by Intimacycolours
my life
is such a mess
the dust
has no place
to lay

i keep my mind
cluttered
so that there is no
room for you

m.l. awad
#poetry  #words  #poem  #writing  #love  #coping  #poet  #wordporn  #shortpoem  #mess 
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Written by Intimacycolours

Prelapsarian

your teeth

crooked

against taut flesh,

like the inside

of my thigh

was a peach-skin

on the verge

of breaking

there was an apple

in your throat,

and i created sin

trying to wrap

my mouth

around it

i tried to

resist,

but my legs

held like

boa constrictors

about your waist

i cried out for

the lord but

he wasn't the one

who came

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Written by Intimacycolours
Prelapsarian
your teeth
crooked
against taut flesh,
like the inside
of my thigh
was a peach-skin
on the verge
of breaking

there was an apple
in your throat,
and i created sin
trying to wrap
my mouth
around it

i tried to
resist,
but my legs
held like
boa constrictors
about your waist

i cried out for
the lord but
he wasn't the one
who came
#romance  #poetry  #words  #poem  #writing  #love  #sex  #religion 
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Written by Intimacycolours

it was a tuesday

your fingers

smelled of lilacs

and peppermint

and the inside

of my body

you bought me

easter candy

for valentine's day

so commenced

the excavation

you set a blanket

down

started at the center

hollowed a tunnel out

belly button deep

hoping

to unearth something

i was moth-eaten

and dusty

when you coughed

it echoed

my walls

bouncing the sound

back into

your mouth

i vibrated with

your breathing

if you hadn't gotten

tired

if you had dug

a little further

you would have found it

fossilized in iron

and nickel

preserved in amber

calcified like a tumor at my

core

the reason

i wrote this

maybe you'd have

understood

had you been able

to study it

to look at it

under a microscope

to hold it

maybe you'd finally know

where it originates

maybe you'd see

where all this comes from

and how it came

to rest

inside me

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Written by Intimacycolours
it was a tuesday

your fingers
smelled of lilacs
and peppermint
and the inside
of my body

you bought me
easter candy
for valentine's day

so commenced
the excavation

you set a blanket
down
started at the center
hollowed a tunnel out
belly button deep
hoping
to unearth something

i was moth-eaten
and dusty

when you coughed
it echoed
my walls
bouncing the sound
back into
your mouth
i vibrated with
your breathing

if you hadn't gotten
tired

if you had dug
a little further
you would have found it

fossilized in iron
and nickel
preserved in amber
calcified like a tumor at my
core
the reason
i wrote this

maybe you'd have
understood
had you been able
to study it
to look at it
under a microscope

to hold it

maybe you'd finally know
where it originates
maybe you'd see
where all this comes from

and how it came
to rest

inside me
#poetry  #poem  #writing  #love  #valentinesday 
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Written by Intimacycolours

where hatred

is loud,

the whispers

of love

will permeate

the masses

love will

rise up

love will

drown it

out

m.l. awad

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Written by Intimacycolours
where hatred
is loud,
the whispers
of love
will permeate
the masses

love will
rise up

love will
drown it
out

m.l. awad
#poetry  #words  #poem  #writing  #love  #poet  #lovetrumpshate  #instagram  #lovetrumpsall 
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Written by Intimacycolours

1.16.17

{my pulse keeps

tempo.

my veins branch off

into a staff and quarter-

note blood cells

in the space

that needs

filling.

your hand slides down

the chord of my

spine like a giant

violin string.

the sound echoes in

my empty ribcage;

my body becomes

a melody.

my breathing

crescendos.

your tongue trails my teeth

like a finger along

piano keys,

there is a bass drum

behind my belly button

that you are trying

to reach.

when i read

sheet music,

i see your

F

A

C

E

in all the spaces

in between.

i always loved you

off pitch

and out of key.}

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Written by Intimacycolours
1.16.17
{my pulse keeps
tempo.
my veins branch off
into a staff and quarter-
note blood cells
in the space
that needs
filling.

your hand slides down
the chord of my
spine like a giant
violin string.
the sound echoes in
my empty ribcage;
my body becomes
a melody.

my breathing
crescendos.
your tongue trails my teeth
like a finger along
piano keys,
there is a bass drum
behind my belly button
that you are trying
to reach.

when i read
sheet music,
i see your
F
A
C
E
in all the spaces
in between.

i always loved you
off pitch
and out of key.}
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Written by Intimacycolours

1.15.17

Gatsby had
the green light.

i had the lights
all down bourbon street.
i had the howls
of passersby and the
blare of bar music.
i had the sweet
autumn air and
the cobblestone under
my boot heels,
so that for a few
beautiful nights
i lived in the past,
present,
and future.
for a few
sacred days
i transcended my own soul,
poured my guts into
a storm drain on the corner
of Chartres and
ground my bones
into fine powder for the sake
of the city.

i sang without saying
a word.
i danced without
moving.

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Written by Intimacycolours
1.15.17
Gatsby had
the green light.

i had the lights
all down bourbon street.
i had the howls
of passersby and the
blare of bar music.
i had the sweet
autumn air and
the cobblestone under
my boot heels,
so that for a few
beautiful nights
i lived in the past,
present,
and future.
for a few
sacred days
i transcended my own soul,
poured my guts into
a storm drain on the corner
of Chartres and
ground my bones
into fine powder for the sake
of the city.

i sang without saying
a word.
i danced without
moving.
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Written by Intimacycolours

Happy birthday, Mom

If I was in therapy

right now,

they would be blaming it all

on my mother.

I am 25 going on

60, sometimes I think she's there

when I hear myself laugh,

I bet my nose moves the same way

hers does

when I'm talking.

I only inherited

her bad traits.

Our optometrist says

we have the same

astigmatism.

Sometimes,

we complain in unison.

Every so often

I'll look in the mirror

and I'll see her

resilience

in my own face.

I only really clean

when people are

coming over.

I don't care for

macaroni and cheese,

or mushrooms,

or men who

don't stay.

I talk a big game,

but really I

care deeply

about everything.

They say

as women get older,

they all turn into

their mothers.

They say it

like it's a bad thing.

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Written by Intimacycolours
Happy birthday, Mom
If I was in therapy
right now,
they would be blaming it all
on my mother.

I am 25 going on
60, sometimes I think she's there
when I hear myself laugh,
I bet my nose moves the same way
hers does
when I'm talking.

I only inherited
her bad traits.
Our optometrist says
we have the same
astigmatism.
Sometimes,
we complain in unison.
Every so often
I'll look in the mirror
and I'll see her
resilience
in my own face.

I only really clean
when people are
coming over.
I don't care for
macaroni and cheese,
or mushrooms,
or men who
don't stay.
I talk a big game,
but really I
care deeply
about everything.

They say
as women get older,
they all turn into
their mothers.

They say it
like it's a bad thing.
#poetry  #words  #poem  #writing  #mother  #mom  #birthday  #happybirthday  #motherdaughter 
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Written by Intimacycolours

1.4.17

i slept

in your bathroom

floor, dressed in

crumpled lace.

your back was turned

the next morning,

and you were humming

that tune they play

in movies after somebody

dies.

my ears started ringing,

the energy in the

room

changed frequencies.

i gathered my things,

red shoes, red lips,

red face,

and i walked to my car,

like a pool of blood

in the snow,

and i screamed at my

steering wheel

to teach me how

to let go.

but it didn't say anything.

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Written by Intimacycolours
1.4.17
i slept
in your bathroom
floor, dressed in
crumpled lace.
your back was turned
the next morning,
and you were humming
that tune they play
in movies after somebody
dies.

my ears started ringing,
the energy in the
room
changed frequencies.
i gathered my things,
red shoes, red lips,
red face,
and i walked to my car,
like a pool of blood
in the snow,
and i screamed at my
steering wheel
to teach me how
to let go.

but it didn't say anything.
#poetry  #words  #poem  #writing 
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Written by Intimacycolours

1.5.17

he said

in a world of black and white

my words are the color

but i can't stay

inside the lines.

i told him about the

night i showed up at

his doorstep wearing nothing but a

trench coat and how my

ankles were cold but his

apartment was warm

and that's the last time

he let me

come inside.

he started talking about how

her perfume permeates

and her makeup stains

and he can't bring himself

to wash his pillow case

because he'll know he's

sleeping alone.

he can't talk about her without

wetting his lips,

like it sucks the moisture

from his mouth just

saying her name, and i can

relate.

we'll take it one day at a

time, he touches a cold hand

to the base of my spine,

and he apologizes but i say

"oh no it's fine"

so he leaves it.

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Written by Intimacycolours
1.5.17
he said
in a world of black and white
my words are the color
but i can't stay
inside the lines.

i told him about the
night i showed up at
his doorstep wearing nothing but a
trench coat and how my
ankles were cold but his
apartment was warm
and that's the last time
he let me
come inside.

he started talking about how
her perfume permeates
and her makeup stains
and he can't bring himself
to wash his pillow case
because he'll know he's
sleeping alone.
he can't talk about her without
wetting his lips,
like it sucks the moisture
from his mouth just
saying her name, and i can
relate.

we'll take it one day at a
time, he touches a cold hand
to the base of my spine,
and he apologizes but i say
"oh no it's fine"
so he leaves it.
#poetry  #words  #poem  #writing 
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Written by Intimacycolours

and there it is, finally.

finally i have discovered

exactly why it is

my subconscious won't

let go of you,

why your saliva still

runs warm through the marrow

of my bones, it's not

because i

am still in love with you.

95% of the time

i do not think of you

unless i mean to, but

i can't control

my mind while it

sleeps, and that used to

terrify me.

(it is not

because i

am still in love with you.)

and that other 5% is my

saving grace, just when it seems

i could finally

forget you, i am awakened

by your face in my dreams,

like a jolt of electricity

during a flatline when

not wanting to be here is

why you took all those pills

in the first place.

but my body knows.

dying and

coming back is what makes

me interesting,

and without all this

pain you caused me,

who would i be?

the words would stop flowing,

there's no grit

in the good things,

i can't write about

how he keeps his toothbrush in my

bathroom or how i see the

Rocky Mountains where his back

meets his shoulders blades, and

who are we without all

our suffering?

it only works if i

don't fully trust myself

with loving anything.

(but at least)

it's not because

I'm still in love (with you.)

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Written by Intimacycolours
and there it is, finally.

finally i have discovered
exactly why it is
my subconscious won't
let go of you,
why your saliva still
runs warm through the marrow
of my bones, it's not
because i
am still in love with you.

95% of the time
i do not think of you
unless i mean to, but
i can't control
my mind while it
sleeps, and that used to
terrify me.

(it is not
because i
am still in love with you.)

and that other 5% is my
saving grace, just when it seems
i could finally
forget you, i am awakened
by your face in my dreams,
like a jolt of electricity
during a flatline when
not wanting to be here is
why you took all those pills
in the first place.

but my body knows.
dying and
coming back is what makes
me interesting,

and without all this
pain you caused me,
who would i be?
the words would stop flowing,
there's no grit
in the good things,
i can't write about
how he keeps his toothbrush in my
bathroom or how i see the
Rocky Mountains where his back
meets his shoulders blades, and
who are we without all
our suffering?

it only works if i
don't fully trust myself
with loving anything.

(but at least)
it's not because
I'm still in love (with you.)
#poetry  #words  #poem  #writing 
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