All The Time
Your vernacular razors leave me daunted all the time.
Cost to hold you close is being taunted all the time.
My love deified you and brought judgement day,
Lord, must my sins be flaunted all the time?
Ghosts of our love, ghosts of your pain
fight to leave me haunted all the time.
A pathetic or apathetic, to let you do
things that make me feel unwanted all the time.
What, if anything, would I not do?
If I could be what you wanted all the time.
Charlotte Kudamare is currently pursuing her B.A. in Creative Writing in English at the University of Virginia in Charlottesville, Virginia. She is a fiction and poetry writer who enjoys being queer, translating Latin, and exploring anything that pulls at the heart strings. She has never seen the ocean but knows she will like it when she does. You can find more of her writing on her Instagram and Tumblr both found @houseofcharlotte or on her website: thehouseofcharlotte.com
