She’s damaged goods.

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She’s the ship wreck on the shore that everyone loved to look at, dwell in her confines, and listen to her stories even though she didn’t say a word. They all thought she made the shoreline ugly, rust, decayed wood and wails of the wind that bore her sorrows but no one dared remove her.

She was a reminder of how fortunate they were and also how boring they were. They couldn’t bear to be the spectacle of ogle like she could. She took it with a throw of her white sail, and a flicker of mascara, sly smiling bow but her plank was there, solid and anticipating her next traitor.

What presents itself as damaged goods is often the most passionate and generous. They may not offer material, but they can sail you on a sea of impossible storms, loves crashing waves, the oceans darkest bottoms and wash up after the storm, another piece wrecked off them, but still mesmerising.

The problem is with cowards who don’t want to salt their faces and tan their hearts.

-W.E.

Her sacred melody

ribs

He could play any six string guitar to the tingling of senses.

But strumming her six ribs was his masterpiece he reserved only for her


Some things have to remain sacred.

Love is being able to compose a masterpiece but leaving it only for the pleasure of one soul, despite knowing you could have any soul in the world by playing the haunting entrapment of its melody.

-W.E.

Love supreme

paper-ink

The fresh sheet of paper said, “You’re my first love, please be gentle”.

The quill smiled and said, “You’re not my first and won’t be my last”.

The writer interrupted them both and said, “You’re both delusional, I’ll burn you paper and make you ashes and I’ll run you dry and starve you quill”.

Love intervened and struck a pain in the heart of the writer and said, “Look at what you’ve done. What started innocently will end in vanity, banish you all”, and disappeared from the writers heart.

-W.E.

How bad do you want him?

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“I want to be with you,
More than anything I want to be with…”

He interrupted her, “Really?”

She nodded with tears welling up in her eyes.

“Enough to want to see five of me?”

She paused as she struggled to comprehend.

“Because that’s how bad I want to be with you,
I want to see your face recreated five times in children
we have.”

She didn’t reply

– W.E.