Sing me like a song
Breath me in deeply
And release me
In the most beautiful way
Pick me like the most desired flower in the entire garden
Admire my delacateness
And full fill my thirsts
Sigh at the thought of me
With a tender passion
For memories in the making...
Words flow uninhibitedly from me
The moment i think of you
Even after we broke up
I still hate you but
I still love you
I am happy itz over
But I still miss you
But I am happy we parted ways
Wishing you will be happy somewhere with someone special
Sometimes I wanna stay
It's where I get away
Might run into some other problems
But that's ok
Nothing I can't maintain
But to stay here is in vain
Nothing lives here but heartache and pain
I mean is the same thing only I can maintain
I know i can...
it is a way to feel free. There are no restrictions; it is just you.
Anyone can be a writer; it doesn't matter if your stories haven't been posted, the most important thing is that you enjoy what you are doing. And what I mean, it is that each word has to have a meaning for you...
I just need to raise it a few octaves, learn a couple more dialects and learn when just a whisper will do instead of an out loud scream. I write in prose, verse, narrative & song because the words are always finding their way out of me...and I fear what would happen if I let...
Why?For none, for daysNot onepotentially meaningful commentI seek to give genuinely with loveas my "post" and shining messengerhas arrived. Slain before my eyesWhen the the determined, intent of reaching out with unfettered trust.Is stolen.Even the ability to save what you...
its too thin and easily broken. The air i am inhaling is attenuating with each gasp for breath. My shins are quivering and small hairline fractures litter their outer most layers from too many end of my ropes falls to my knees. The heart that beats within my rib cage is tattered...
I used to be like a faerie princess, with eyes as wide and wavering as the ocean.
I used to be like a daisy sprouting up in the springtime dew
I used to be like innocence itself, unknowing to the cruelty that litters the earth
I am now like a rose, guarded by thorns
I am astray in this world of broken dreams
Like a lost buoy in a gale force sea
A drunken sunken anchor in shifting sands
Not knowing which way the tide will take me
Which wave will save me; to carry me away to a
Paradise shore; where no troubles lie in store.
Maybe I can...
crying doves across the sky,
I feel the pain and I start to cry,
but see my tears all made of glass,
holding reflections of the past
they mirror me and they mirror you,
take to the sky as they hold the truth..
unwritten letters in my mind,
I feel the loss, and I start to sigh...
You have to craft it, chisel it, making sure the voice doesn't stammer about like it's lost in a crowd.
You have to bring yourself to pull off the layers, find the pieces that fit and glue it back together again.
Sometimes you'll have to crush your words with a mortar and...
when you wanted to smell roses and for having bloodshot eyes when you wanted to look into a meadow and for having scars on my body when you wanted to cuddle I just do t know how to take care of my body without destroying it.
Broken dreams, Broken flight,
I sure do wish you were here tonight.
I miss your kisses, and your arms around my waist, helping me forget the "world", this awful place.
Wed share a cup of tea and discuss each others views on my ****** poetry.
Wed smile and gaze at the stars...
I don't think when I write my poetry. I feel my feelings and let my pen do the thinking while I look the other way. I honestly have no clue what I've written until I know I'm finished with it... and usually, when I'm severely depressed, that's when I do my best writing. Although...
that whenever I look into his eyes I feel safe, like I can tell him anything and give him my trust, you can see in his eyes that he actually cares and listens to you, but you can also see hurt in his eyes, you can tell things aren't how they should be, but he still tries. why...
sound of love, a taste of your love from your lips, a ethereal touch/ your chest on mine, you awake my eyes to a new meaning - heightening all my senses with your love & in that moment I knew embrace.
Dedicated to my angel.
In song format. But when I chose to share -with the adult in my life who was Supposed To & Claimed To love me the most- she huffed dismissively: "What Is this nonsense?! I don't have time for This..." And, apparently, it crushed my li'l heart. For, from that point forward...
In the autumn leaves before the dawn
In precious silk her figure drawn
A maze of silver in his eyes
A rush of lust poorly disguised
Down will flow her auburn hair
And forevermore the two shall pair
A constant surge of pure elation
Will contain their consummation
You're such a disappointment
An Angel out of grace.
Stabbed me in the back
And lied right to my face,
I'm such a disappointment.
It was I who ought to know
When to see the seasons changing
And the time to let you go...
I want him to be love on my mind. He's so fine, handsome as a well dressed man in a perfectly tailored suit. God fearing, awe inspiring, encouraging like the sun rising telling the world it's time to go on and start your day. He never lets me down. I love the sound of his voice...
what I said
Even tho your Alive
I see you as dead
I see it so clear to me
Everything thing you said
You felt inside
In all honest truth you had lied
I know it's true cus u can't hide the
Fact or deny
that You left me before I said bye
But as I wipe my hands clean...
interesting thought that is extremely resonating. The fact that he wrote very few songs last year compared to previous years. This year, I only wrote one or two, whereas, the year before, the words poured out. My heart just wasn't in it. Hoping this new year is better in many...