yes I'm a little crazy, hell even a little insane. but no one could love you as much as I do
I'm not the prettiest, skinniest and I'm far from the smartest, but no one could love you as much as I do
I always say the wrong things, I can't even count the times I've almost ruined us, but no one could love you as much as I do.
My body is stained with scars, that trail from my thigh to my hips and end on my arms. but no one could love you as much as I do.
I don't have the slightest clue why I love you, but there's nothing that could change the fact that I do.
I was walking tonight,
When I stumbled, across
A bird with a broken wing,
Lying, twitching, on the ground.
I had travelled this path
Almost a hundred times,
Taking in the night air,
Listening to the sound of nothing.
Never had I thought to look
Down, down at my feet.
Where Man and Earth meet,
And fallen souls lay strewn across the ground.
Tonight began as most
Days and nights do,
Ambling along, with my usual
Ignorantly blind caprice.
Then, into my heart,
As if a whisper from the stars,
The melancholic song
Of a fragile soul did enter.
Though faint at first
Its mournful seed did grow,
Until the aching muscle could
No further onward go.
Down my gaze fell
Resting beautifully on her broken wing.
But a pain like none before
I saw deep in her eyes,
She, a flightless bird
In human guise.
Placing her gently
In my soft palm,
So there I did heal
Her fragile arm.
And together we sang
throughout the night,
Wishing our harmony
Would the morning fight.
But knowing all too well,
That men dwell on Earth
And birds soar the Heavens,
We shared one last embrace.
As stars began to fade
The shades to recede
So forth the light
And then to the morning sky she returned,
But here, in our breasts, was Love now confirmed.
your smile make my joy
your heart fit my heart
you soul breathe my soul
love knows who we are
when we both know
It snowed all day today
First snow of the season
From the time I woke up to the moment I went to bed
The snow was so powdery
All there was, was glitter in the air
You see, I still want to tell you about my day
Because there are people that come in our lives
And they mean so much it doesn't make any sense
But they do.
I find myself still writing for you
Even though you don't want me to
But after a hundred poems it's hard to stop
My word's seem to come easy when I'm hurting
Often though, angry words are not meant
And actions are unfairly judged just through words
I'm not trying to get back what we had
But no one should feel not good enough.
We may accept the love we think we deserve
But often we deserve far more than we think.
And hush, you did. You do.
I keep checking in on you to make sure you're okay
And it kills me to know that you're not
What you consider flaws are simply the
Little quirks I saw back on your porch that made me smile
I hope you live; that you are more than just alive
Because I know you are a good person
Who deserves all the happiness and love in the world
And I would have gladly spent
The rest of my life proving it to you
Someone can't go from being the center of your world
Straight to nothing over night
I too, still think about you always ...
And it's only been a week...
He looked me in the eyes and said, "what do you wanna be?"
Looking down was the only direction I've known,
before I knew that sentences could end with question marks,
instead of periods.
He looked me in the face and said, "what do you wanna be?"
The smell of old chairs around a wooden table and the sound of
gossip from the floor above.
This was my life and I always pictured it in italics,
aligned to the left and initials on the bottom in bold.
He looked me in the soul and said, "what do you wanna be"
Music was blaring and I could hear it in my chest.
The day time collapsed and they told me this was the beginning,
though it was not the day I was born.
I flipped through an old black leather book and found the letters
I wrote to the boy across the oceans.
He looked me in the heart and said, "what do you wanna be?"
I told him I wanted to be the person to change his mind.
I wrote my ideas in that black leather book,
with my initials on the bottom in bold,
and his love in italics.
I have been eating flowers recently and hoping that one day I will be able to restart the garden in my heart that you tore apart. The light will shine again and roses will bloom to the steady staccato beat of my pulse, daisies and sunflowers rising up from the ground to create their own sunrise. Pale pink buds of tulips and bright blue violets will paint my veins with vivid life, the world beautiful again, the air fresher, my heart better.
The more I consume, the less there is of you and more of nature; earth taking over to heal the hurt in my soul. I tell myself this will work, it will succeed eventually; but inside the core of everything there is the pin prick of reality that leads me back to the truth.
For despite everything, I still love you.
First, last, always.
I'm trying to push you out of my head
but somehow my thoughts keep going back
to your smile and the way you sing
my favorite songs in bed.
I'm wishing you would have told me
how you really felt
and that I would have told you
how I really felt.
I'm terrified of your love
but I would never resist it
and I will never lose you again
because I miss the imprinted
sheet lines on your face in the morning.
and I keep thinking of them
when I should be focusing
other than missing you.}
The other lovers – and endless list. Lying likes lisps upon my lips.
Names, I refuse to repeat for fear of judgment from peers.
Not practical in the slightest sense. Perhaps idiosyncratic in insanity’s eyesight.
The dominant ones I desire to dominate. Remove them from positions of power
with the obsolete force of lust.
Graceless bitterness – the only complete feeling; injecting sour thoughts
into the crevices of jealous minds.
Binds erode the skin of my wrists and tie me to burning chairs at the center
of isolated rooms. While the whip of the hose leaves no marks despite the thousand lashes.
Is there any escape from the synthetic machines I crafted within the twisted corners of my imagination.
Once love, now only relentless envy for those I would never be with
despite how much I tricked myself into thinking otherwise.
The little white light
on the Christmas tree
it did shine
If you believe in miracles
They can come true
The little angel on the Christmas
Tree her wing it was broken
But the little bright light
shone down on the broken wing.
The mystery magic appeared
The little angels wing was now
All the little toys jumped in sheer delight
for the little while light shone ever so bright.
Now Christmas will be remembered for
The Love that was given by a babe that was
born from heaven.
Their love; fictitious
For days they fought
Their love; malicious
Swiftly, The lesson taught
Stifle your voice
I made my choice
A Pool of emotion
Thoughts become distortion
Silenced through the ending
Chastising becoming acute
Happy to settle the dispute
Her tears forever dispensing
Creeping through an alleyway
Silent, without a word to say
Clinking keys and a jagged knife
Killing spree and a ragged life
The scent of burning flesh
Blood sifting through mesh
Inward; the jagged knife
Piercing; screaming in strife
The beast who murdered a dove
The harlot who murdered a love
Slouched; bleeding like a sieve
Hell; his new place to live