Using words to seduce my way in
Into your lungs
On the tip of your tongue
Into your blood
On the shelves of your soul
Where no one else goes
I wish I could find
The way into your mind
You remind me of that perfect line
When the ocean meets the sky...
The taste of your kiss
Our tongues entwined
All of my demons
Submissive to you
Watching you gently
Break me in two
I want to feel your pain
Driving into me
Because I self destruct
I'll play the martyr
Just erase this ache
Kiss me harder
I will admit that I am fearful. I am not ashamed of this and I do not regret it... because fear reminds me of my humanity, reminds me of caution, and spares me of my arrogance...
Fear isn't something to ignore, it is merely another obstacle to embrace and overcome.
than a bullet
Your words slice through my heart, having no mercy on my emotions, leaving my heart cold and open. They weigh heavy on my chest like guilt weighing on a murderers shoulders. Your words hurt so much , there is so much to feel,but that feeling is only numbness...
where only thorns grow;
in the Winter, I choose not to sleep -
for, once you reach the bottom,
I have learned
the only way left is
I cannot grasp the soil that chooses to reject
the sun and water offered them -
but rather, would bask in its own
Like i feel like everything is in place but I didn't know such things don't last. I was a believer of happy endings and such things. Like a girl who always wanted to watch Disney princesses dazzled by their prince. But... after the closure, i seemed to fill numb. Except.. i am...
I am working on a couple of novels, they come from the brain and require discipline. I write erotica which id born out of passion and comes from your soul. But poetry comes from the heart and is born out of pain and despair. You will seldom meet a happy poet. Especially right...
cage on my heart
Beneath my breast
Piercing my ribs with every breath
I'm left and dead set on what I regret
You deny my pain like I'll suffer less
Drive me insane and tore off my dress
To spill the words I couldn't say
They dance on my tongue
Like birds of prey...
Cheese dreams, with the sentimental cycle system. Reesi was longin' in her form while the camera lens focused on the sky as the red pipe smoked it away and filtered her heart red and cheese dreams, smelled of hot fake cheese and the mutated rat, too big to get out of that...
so I can indulge,
The desire of what man calls lust,
Just one touch,
I long for it all,
The whispers calling me fed up with the pain,
No one can insulate my desires because I strive for the most,
Call me sick but that I am not,
Ill I am diseased...
for - it's the source of my passions, the drug that easily gets me high, the thing that keeps me alive. I am in love with the feeling of being able to even create something with words - something that people will like or not like, though it won't matter because I'm happy. though...
let him go ; let go of her
We can't let go unless we're sure
For something that can dislocate
Something cold to numb the ache
Something to be our next mistake
Something like love lying in wait
Satans got his eyes on me
With marked intent , selfishly
The cross I wear...
and starts. There is a chill in the air as Sophie and I walk down the dimly lite street.
"I feel like I can't think anymore. This week has been too much. I don't think I can take anything else." Sophie says.
"I know it's a lot." I say.
"I hate it so much. They have always been...
I write to get out the demons. Sometimes its painful, sometimes it makes me feel happy. It's nice when some else tells me they can relate. Even if I'm alone in my thoughts, I prefer to move them from pain to paper.
I have written for years, most of my life really. I fill...
and lately. It helps me as life deals blows I can't seem to duck from. I wrote a tremendously long deep and romantic poem. Here is a small portion of it.
I love when you look me in the eyes
I appreciate your tries in life's craze
It doesn't matter if we're wrong again, we have...
Minutes feel like hours,
Hours feels like days.
When will the time speed up?
Will it ever speed up?
The uncertainty is driving me insane,
I want the seconds to feel like seconds!
The minutes to feel like minutes!
When my eyes are open it's like an unending day,
and dreamt I was a feather. A little white feather. Not perfect but small twisted and worn. Still beautiful. Delecate and soft like a fragile snowflake. The wind lifted me up in the sky.
The wind pushes me forward twisting and spinning. I get dizzy. I float for miles...
baguette, on my way home. Hearing a rooster's crow and the aroma of jasmine at dusk.
A sleeping dog's trusting head on my lap. The passionate gestures of flamenco and the taste of hearty wine when I think of her.
My son's small hands confidently holding mine...
development in my life, I began writing poetry when I was in high school. I didn’t write a lot but that desire grew and I discovered I had more to say, a lot more. Poetry gave way to stories and that gradually gave me the incentive to write a book. I had no problem with...
Date a girl who writes.
Date a girl who may never wear completely clean clothes, because of coffee stains and ink spills. She’ll have many problems with her closet space, and her laptop is never boring because there are so many words, so many worlds that she’s cluttered...
The words fly across cyber space
Arriving to a grin that cannot be stifled
Visions of her flame through his mind
His patience & will power are fading
She knows from a distance
Safely behind the keys
Tempting him with the future
A spinning compass
A shredded map
Your fingertips across my lips
Tiny little slivers
With the shards left from words
That I spoke in reverse
Mixed anger with hurt
And you tasted it first
Open my mouth and the devil comes out
Pour salt in the wounds
That still bleed for you
Forget her it's better I don't know the truth
I don't want you
I don't need you
Yes I do
Tell me you're sorry you broke my heart
For the pieces of me you tore apart
Your blind drunk and venomous work of art
Writing.... I'm the quiet/shy type which is probably why I love to write. I express my feelings through it... when no one else wants to hear me I go straight to my journal. I love how I can just escape the world sometimes.
they see me as shy, dumb and invisible. But that's not me, to be honest no one really knows who I am, people think they know what I am thinking and what I would do in most situations, and most of the time they are wrong. I'm at that horible age when your not sure what the future...
I started writing on a daily basis when I was a freshman in High School. I had a teacher that was also a professor at a well known university. He loved creative writing and journaling. His love of the written word soon was instilled in me. ...
human race. Some are never graced to look upon it but to some it is life. It is as powerful as words uttered, floating through the air but as delicate as a feather. To be able to write is all you need.
on her tan face. Faint specks were reflected in her deep brown eyes. Her hair with color matching her pupils was filled with small daisies; the delicacy very similar to her tiny frame. Just the slightest touch of her sent shivers through my spine. This has been all I've wanted...
Just ordered pizza. Barry White is playing loud. A couple of w/c bound pts. are here at the door. I am so entertaining! Actually, Mark came in and that dude is a flirt. So my last night of nights. He is right next to me. I had to flip the screen, because he was literally on top...
cousin of death approaches...
Dim candle lit whispers flicker thoughts upon the walls of endless dusk,
Distorted vibrations resonate across the milky skyline saturated with soft kisses,
Purple ink rain drops flood the canvas constructing emotional tidal waves,
I think not.
Do you know your soul?
I know not.
For if We did, we would embrace each others choices, no matter what they may be.
Do you know his heart?
I think not.
Do you know his soul?
I know not.
For if We did, we would honor his masculinity and raise him up in times if...
though I'm beautiful
Even though my souls for sale
My dark skin slowly going pale
The rush of my blood going stale
I can rise like a Phoenix
From ashes to freedom
A goddess like Venus
But you'll never see this
I am merely a formality
Abstract from your reality
tears remain were they once laid..
With a future shrouded by uncertainty and doubt
he would look up at thestars and shout,
Spare the one whom I love of this pain
so that she may hear me when I say I love you again.. My heart is her heart, my soul is her soul, my life is her life...
and I, we just want to survive
To hold on tight and never let go
To make it out alive
No one wants to hurt, my love
No one wants to cry
No one wants to see their love
Slowly fall apart and die
So take my hand, we'll escape
Feel the sweet surrender
Taste the laughter on my...
but the hunger
Coursing through my being
Whispering your name
Til my fever breaks
I'd place my palms flat on the wall
That might sustain me
Shallow breaths filled with agony
The ache for you
To come to me
To satiate , end this pain
Does anyone else here daydream about a story they are writing? I find myself so involved in something I am working on, that I literally walk around with my head in the clouds all day at work, and I can barely wait for the weekend when I can park it in front of my computer...