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  Aug 2014 Phairy
Irate Watcher
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I want to be a writer.
Not because I'm mightier
than you,
but because it's all
I know how to do.
Sigh...
Phairy Aug 2014
Whenever I think of you,
My lungs lapses to respire.
Whenever I think of you,
My heart forgets to pound.

They say "at least we are under the same sky and we gaze at the same shooting stars and crescent moon"

But what if... That was not enough.
What if, my soul was not fulfilled with romanticized sadness.
What if, I'm drained and shriveled from this sadistic sadness.
What if, the texture of your hair and the shining pearls in your eyes were enthralling for me.
And what if, you were all that to my soul,
and I,
only seeked to be...
complete.

Only seeked to touch you,
tumble between your arms;
to fall in your heart.

These words, were carved on the curves of my lips...
And left me to fumble whenever I surrounded you.

Whenever I think of you,
It is a never ending sadness.
Because I crave to worship you... You do not crave the same.

In fact,

You do not crave me at all.
Phairy Aug 2014
You
May I dream of you again?
Can I dream of you tonight?
Will I dream of you soon?
Would you let me dream of you?

I wish I can stay stuck in a dream for a little while, to hold your hand.

I'm exhausted of tumbling around looking; for a face that cannot be found.

I'm here without you,
and they tell me it is never too late...
But what if it is?
What if you are gone forever, now?
What do I do, then?
I just need to talk to him before I lose my mind. Inhaling nicotine helps you to feel soft but not enough to get through the day sane.
Phairy Aug 2014
I miss you...
I can't get a hold of you... In my dreams... In my life.

But I get ghosts of you following me around, invading my thoughts...

Conscious...
Unconsciously...

I am blessed with a curse.

You are everywhere near me,
Yet I can't enjoy the simple pleasures with you.

Like, touch you... And that, I find myself craving more than to breathe air or eat a meal.

Keep visiting my dreams, I don't know what would I do without you there.
Phairy Aug 2014
I want to touch her skin...
hold her hand and tangle it with my own...
braid her hair, I lack the talent to make a perfect one but I do not lack the feeling of wanting to do it.

I do not know her like an open book, do I?
calm like a night upon a mountain,
but wild inside as if she was raised in the jungle.
I know her like the sun knows the clouds, don't I?
how she exhale sighs like little moans. deep, crocking her lips when she smiles.
her grief and intimate moments gets us to relate.

I imagine, perhaps my imagination lacks creativity. but it never lacked heart.
I want to touch her in the most innocent way for a pervert.
I want to touch her to provoke her.
why? who knows.
but I want to touch her.
  Aug 2014 Phairy
Chloe
I want to write a
beautiful poem
to tell you
I'm going to
**** myself.

But there are
No words
beautiful enough
to describe to you
the way
I'm about to die.
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