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  • words_flow 167w

    I’m not sure what you excel at more. Pulling my heart strings. Or my hair.

    - Terri Pietersen
    ©words_flow

  • words_flow 167w

    His hands around my throat in ecstasy are more familiar than his hand in mine in love. Time after time and time doesn’t alter my story.

    - Terri Pietersen
    ©words_flow

  • words_flow 167w

    That thing I couldn’t say. That thing muted at the back of an already congested throat.
    That was love.

    - Terri Pietersen
    ©words_flow

  • words_flow 167w

    And what if I just wasn’t ready. To forge mountains from my broken body. To love. For love. For this.
    Nothing.

    - Terri Pietersen
    ©words_flow

  • words_flow 168w

    My face stifled with masculinity and battle lines of power I could never penetrate.

    - Terri Pietersen
    ©words_flow

  • words_flow 168w

    When every affirmation from you was sexually related. Maybe that’s why my ego rated you. While my soul drowned.

    - Terri Pietersen
    ©words_flow

  • words_flow 168w

    You are here and yet loneliness consumes me as my broken body now becomes nothing more than another unsaid apology. Another sorry that you mutter and don’t mean.

    - Terri Pietersen
    ©words_flow

  • words_flow 168w

    My history is more than broken lines and shattered pavements. More than the blood that stained my skin and the engraving of negativity on my internal dialects.

    Beneath superficiality. Optimism found its
    home.

    - Terri Pietersen
    ©words_flow

  • words_flow 168w

    It was all fun and games until handcuffs turned to chains. In love, you had me incarcerated.

    - Terri Pietersen
    ©words_flow

  • words_flow 169w

    I wish I could unplug my heart. Remove the charger. Provide relief from the emotions that beat at the corners of my mind, persistent in their attempts to make me feel.

    I never wanted to feel.

    - Terri Pietersen
    ©words_flow