Two weeks

Free verse

Creativivian
Lit Up
2 min readJul 6, 2021

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Rain knows no battles. Pic Liv Bruce via unsplash

Week one

I’m in charge, coated with delicacy,
petals swirling mid-air,
the Sun is my medium,
my rays reach you in less than 8 minutes.

I stand beside you like a fridge
packed with pink attentions and popsicles,
no fever detected,
we’re dancing
in your living room.

You believe in God
and I believe in you,
such a weird triangle,
and I also believe
there’s a tiny altar
arched between your eyes
when you frown.

No need to pray.

Week two

A racing rage across my loops,
a mouth of lava,
I burn everything while everything burns me.

This aloof version of you,
enemies across a squared table
our souls now opposite,
no hunger, no sobriety.

I hate marshmallows but you love them,
so here are two bags
and a poem you won’t read
because you don’t like to,
and you don’t like me
because I’m like you.

Your eyebrows make it look
like you don’t want to be saved.
Black drama spilling from your eyelashes.

Gamification of everything.
The fast agony, truth or dare,
never played to win,
never planned to lose.
You can tell I’m not a gambler.

All of my pyroclastic words
are sorry
those rocks have brittle eyes
— they didn’t mean to
bury you alive.

More marshmallows,
you can’t stand their heart shape
I suggest you tear them apart
I don’t suggest you shouldn’t be scared,
you laugh
I don’t
here are more cigarettes,
you will smoke them with strong little fingers
that can’t express gratitude.

Why am I holding onto his?

Because you understood
the power of
abracadabra.

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Creativivian
Lit Up
Writer for

Content Writer, not always content. Semantic Architect. Full-time Metaphor Hunter, inspired to inspire. ⁣