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,
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 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.
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...
Your mind is clear
Severing your solitude
You hear her
Calling out to you
Lies deep in her eyes
Between her thighs
Absolve the mediocrity
With a pain so deep
Rage becomes need
Your illusions lie...
the engine idling. His green eyes focused on the screen of his cell.
“It's up to you, baby.” He could hear her soft, southern voice as read the text.
Turning left would take him back to his life before it was too late. Back to the oranges and browns of the Mojave. Right...
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
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...
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...
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...
and cold sweat
Move across my untouched flesh
My bruises are fading
And I'm contemplating
Ways to entangle myself in your web
Cold air in my face and I only taste you
Unfair , but I wait and I crave only you
A sickness of desire
And scenes in my mind
Your touch gets me...
I can't keep up
I can see you there in the distance
Wait for me!
My legs are moving but I seem to be going so slow
Do you hear me calling your name?
The mist is enveloping
I can't see my hands
Your form is disappearing
I think you've gone too far ahead
I am lost
I am alone
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...
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
make you the same as the others.
Sometimes when you fall for a person doesn't make you any stronger.
Sometimes people always say yes even if what lies beneath is a big no.
Sometimes i want to be in the world of future, to never say the phrase I should've known.
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
The dove carries her innocence on her wings clearly seen
The crow is a vile thing but poses as a mysterious thing
The dove is peaking at the seams of her chest want to be set free.
Once free she flies with the crows for they have beautiful wings and shiny...
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...
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...
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.
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
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...
lusts and heartbreaks...
I cannot take it anymore
I can't fight it anymore
I have no more hope, no more courage, no more faith,
In God, in mother, in Charlie, in the bookcase man
Damn, as I sit
Blood pouring down my body
I think about her, and especially him
Why did you have to...
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...
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...
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
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. ...
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...
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...
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,
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...
before about not being shattered.
No matter the cracks in the vase
No matter the tacks in the journey's chase
It is fixed with your embrace
The water still sustains
It doesn't leak
The rose stands tall
It isn't bleak
I have always been a good writer and one day I hope to get a book published.
But....I get Writer's Block a lot!!! I have an amazing story idea on minute, but as soon as I start planning it, I stop and it never gets finished.
Does anybody else lose concentration/motivation in...