Two-hundred and Sixty-Three: I Count My Heartbeats While He Looks at Me

Shrugs, the sharpest insult.
Transparent heart.
The art of crying on street corners.
Popping cherries like balloons.
Sober and boring.
Whoring out secrets.
Feel this.
Boom, boom, boom.
There’s a bomb in my chest.
Rummage through my bag of boys.
Choose one.
Let him stroke my neck.
Vote for better days.
Stray charms; challenge one.
Take one step away from him.
I’m still here.
Thrill me in other ways.
Colour in all those walls.
Fuck it.
Berlin that shit.
Fade during the day.
Close your eyes.
Go away.

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Alexia

I drink, I laugh, I smoke, I write.

One thought on “Two-hundred and Sixty-Three: I Count My Heartbeats While He Looks at Me”

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