Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Falling in love is not rational. It's madness. A beautiful, wonderful moment of magnificent insanity.

Look into my eyes...

and they say
"I'm obsessed with you. Utterly, willingly, and wonderfully"
Kayla Gallant Sep 2019
Lie across
Train tracks
Without fear
Call it insanity
Yet you stand
Willingly
Hand on chest
Pledging your life
To the men
Who dictate you
mindless sheep
N Pescador May 2019
I just wanna let you know

If she hurts you and crushes your heart
Cry. Cry till there's no comes out
And you’ll be mine and never let you go this time
I willingly catch you even if I hurt myself in the process

I still love you and it haven’t change
I still love you and it haven’t change. If you breaks you i will be there for you to catch you. I know you can’t see me as you see her but i hope someday you can see me like you see her.
Heidi Franke Apr 2019
So many vacancies.
Vapid halls and streets.
No air. No hearts.
Vacant lands and souls.
Be a hand.
Be a thread.
Be a source.
Be love.
Be the patience.
The light . . .
     the empty chair.
Where you can invite someone to sit
Spend time.
Where each other can
fill up the world again.
Willingly wise, adopting time.
Fractures will fade
Patches of hope emerge
Color of
Grass
will grow again.
Sweet fragrant spring grass.
Practicing progress
For each season
A seat for everyone.
Heidi Ludwiczak Aug 2017
I own me ~

You can hold me ~

Take me ~
but in the end ~

I Let you handle me

I own me ~

Neither your kiss or your caress,

will ever assigned myself to you

I enabled you to hold me ~

Willingly, Fully
This short poem is about owning yourself, you only give what you want to someone. You have the power to give something with limits. No one own you but yourself. Never think someone own you for any reason, you control your life as you please.
Hao Nguyen Apr 2016
Let these words manifest,
collecting light particles
to form blinding orb pairs:
weightless, mysterious---
unrecognizable to untrained eyes.

Let these condensed suns travel
at their own patience pace
down the desperate path:
unaware, hunting---
aiming to impact with wanderers.

Let this vehicle of literature
resonate earth and air
as they who stand before:
afraid, curious---
awaiting the damage yet inflicted.

Let the impact pass like typhoons,
thrashing warm winds and caressing rains
to sooth the fragile forsaken soul:
trembling, confused---
contemplating the value of their breath.

Let the moment remain frozen,
growing between forever and never,
sending important subliminals to foresight:
love, patience---
reminding the willingly forgetful.

— The End —