That wound, the
one you choose to hide,
will always be there.
come even decades.
It's scar will always remain.
Jagged on the palm of
it may fade with
but it will always
Forever ready to be
scarlet blood weeping
We all carry a scar
such as this.
It is a first and so,
it is the deepest.
The beginning of an
It will sit there
waiting to bring again
your heart onto
It will always be present.
why is it
that when i say
i want to die
you tell me
all these things
it would just
break your heart
but i can never
seem to believe you?
You can't catch my spirit
To hang on a tree
You can see the outside
But not the person who's me
You can't hold my attention
By playing it cool
You can gain my respect
By not acting the fool
You can't win my heart
If you don't have one to give
You can choose to be with me
But not decide how I'll live
I feel as though the heavy falling rain
Is nature mourning my pitifully broken heart
Resting on his chest
Listening to his strong heartbeat
U. H. .
H. M. T. ..
M. Then ...
P. N o T h I n G . . .
As I said three words
That stopped his heart
Not literally lol
In an endless blue, I hold up a red balloon;
waiting for things to happen.
We lost something familiar in the connection,
as the nervous river of thought feeds our bodies,
in cloaks of invisibility we wish to hide.
Hands that used to wipe away our tears,
when there were monsters under our beds,
have grown away from us.
So we learnt to be unmoved and untouched.
We hide our vulnerability under our cloaks.
How can we ignite a life into a new heart
and call it an accident?
Then we are tragedies,
crashing one over another.
We are not a definition of life.
We collect pieces and dots of eternal summer rays
and flickering shadows of raindrops.
How those insignificant stains make a much more meaningful picture.
A single drop can colour a glass full of water,
before it melts away – that’s what happens when we are ourselves.
-also painted a picture for this one.
Hold my gaze
and show me things that will amaze
Hold my smile
and impress me with your wit and style
Hold my hand
and lead me through life's wonderland
Hold my heart
and I am under love's command
Trace sentences on my bare back with your delicate finger tips
Send shivers swimming up my spine like electric eels
Put your hands on my waist
pull me in
I stare into your copper colored eyes
So close to you
I can hear your short breaths
Seeing your lips part;
I can tell they're craving to meet mine
lightly coated with cherry chap-stick
I let you inside my world
feeling your skin against mine
Flowers bloom inside my rib-cage
right where my heart is located
happiness possesses my body
Like how narcotics possess an addicts actions
You're my narcotic
I'm addicted to the way you make me feel
Nobody else can trace sentences on my bare back with your delicate finger tips;
and send shivers swimming up my spine like electric eels
as good as you can
The Bottle of Water By My Bed
Parched so oft,
Everything dried out,
Throat, life, poetic inspiration,
Yes, getting out of bed is hell on earth.
The Bottle of Water By My Bed,
She makes sure is always there,
Named and bottled from a special source,
"I'm Here, Don't You Dare Leave"
Says the label, further noting that source of this water is
Heart Springs Eternal, USA.
Ha. Smile. Get outta bed, take a sip,
Damn that bottle of loving constancy.
Her wings are gold but silver lined
Her eyes greeted us as she would glide
The curses rose from every soul
From every heart left cleansed inside
Watch her in her grace and glory
As her beauty tells a story
Of her life of purity
Raining hope and slowly pouring
Roses are red
But violets are blue
If I were to lose her what would I do?
Thoughts in my head
Cycled through and through
This world abused her and blinded she flew
Away and depressed
The pain has still grown
And I was impressed, the restraint she’d shown
Yet she has been blessed
With a seed of hope
And again one day she will come home.