You are to me a pomegranate
You in one hand a knife in my other I want so badly to know you But I am terrified of the mess that lays beneath your skin I've eaten you before I've eaten many of you But now most of what remains are dirtied shirts and stained clothes How do I know you will last? How do I know you will last? I hold the knife Not knowing what to do So I stab, deep into the flesh but not yours mine Because how can I know what to look for how can i know what i need when I haven't peeled back my skin and looked within I haven't cracked open my chest to see my heart beating how do i know what it beats for does yours beat as mine? Does it go fast then slow then not at all at others does it hurt? does it scare you at times? my heart does. so before i get to know you i want to cut into myself because then our stains can dirty my shirt together, and they will be one painting a beautiful picture on my chest
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October 2019
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