Lets count the constellations
As we lay here under the starry sky
The moon to light our faces
Laying with him is all I want
Stay here forever with me please
Seeing so many different shapes
Aries and lyra and virgo
Just so many names and stories
'Run away with me' he says
Laughing as we point out more
Doing things we've never done before
Falling madly for each other
Loving him just so much
The starry brown eyes of his
He is my constellation filling my sky
As my night goes on with him by my side
Passionately in love
Counting the stars tonight
Let's let go of this life of rules and regulations
Breaking free tonight
'Run away with me' is all I could say
We'll run into the night sky
Dancing with the constellations for the rest of our lives
Together forever in this sky
No one can stop us not tonight
What is Love?
I'm not talking about
What she where's Above
Low cut shirts
And tight fitted jeans.
Just to use what's In-between
But what she says.
But it's how we show it
Is always defined,
by a persons Action
Not two people that have
Two people that have,
reason to Believe
The people who show no
I love you soo much Click
Lets see what you're wearing above Click
A couple with
So we both have more,
to talk about.
"What are you doing tomorrow"
"How did your day go?"
Because we all have to borrow,
we're all in debt for the time
In our lives.
And that -First time smile-
Where cheeks are turned,
hearts are burned.
With the same response
"It took you a while"
It takes the right person
To take just a while
To see if smiles aren't
Fake to see if they don't.
Shatter and Break.
A kiss is the biggest,
It means I'm defeated
It means I'm the weakest
Because it has more meaning
Than the greatness
Of just locking lips
Do you see, what I'm Seeing?
See because were Free
And not just
But we have Free
Reason to Speak
I Love You
Are chucked in to the wild
And used soo freely
Would make a person melt
The feelings are warm.
They feel soo familiar
So be careful how they're used
because the words also kill
Are they Free now?
With jewels, clothes, and
materialistic things don't
Bring the Love she brings to me.
"I've been broke(n) all my life"
All the points
Point you in the right direction
For Success to Succeed
This is Reality
Copyright© Twitch - N
Dear Heavenly Father, I have a confession to make.
For I have received yet another heart break.
She stole my heart, broke it in two,
Then said, “I’m no longer in love with you”
Father, why does she have to be this way?
Please tell her I don’t want to hear what she has to say.
Father, for I have committed a sin,
That day when I let her in.
I want to forget her & what we once had.
All because she lied to me and made me sad.
Father, I am done playing her game.
I’m done with her handing me all the blame.
So if you would father, help me out,
And please show her what this is about.
For I still love her father
But she doesn’t love me so don’t even bother.
She said it was all a lie,
Father she made me cry.
I am weak but have to be strong
Father, what she did was wrong.
I know that now, I knew that then
Please father; get rid of these horrible women.
She used to control me father
Stop what things used to be.
I guess what we had was fake father.
This is the confession I had to make
She never loved me father.
So please don’t even bother
I don’t need someone to hold me tight
I was wrong & they were right
All I need is something that’s not there father
All I needed was for her to care
Father I do not want to let her go.
But its time, and we all know.
Father, my confession may be sad, or a bore,
But my heart hurts so much more.
Pleases father take the pain.
Remember she once said I was a little insane.
Take away the scars caused by this knife.
Oh please father, just take her out of my life.
I miss her so much father.
I miss her kiss and her touch.
For I must leave father,
Cause no one will ever replace me as the babies father
This is my confession.
They all said she was ‘my obsession’.
Father the time has come for me to stop needing her,
Now I believe them father.
Father I need some help down here.
Because you knew loosing her was my fear.
Now you’ve heard my confession, the one I had to make,
So please forgive her for her love, that was so fake
He watches the school bus turn off and out of sight. He'd see Elaine get off at her stop with her sister and others. She didn't look up at him as the bus drew away. Preoccupied, deep thought, maybe. Some one had a called out, see you Frumpy. She didn't respond or didn’t hear. That Tidy kid, probably; mouth on him like a horse. John walks up the side of the road towards the cottage. he thinks of her, her slow walk along the aisle, looking away from him. Shy probably after that kiss on the sports field, lunch time. Or annoyed. He doubted, shy more like. He sighs. Cars whiz by. Too fast. He wonders what she made of the kiss. Lips to lips, touching just on. Brushing soft. Didn't want to press on her. Hand on her arm, gently, holding. His other hand; what had that been? Touched her back, felt bra strap, just there beneath fingers. He enters the front gate, closes carefully. Click of metal lock. The garden has been freshly dug. His father dug yesterday, carefully, back into it, machine like. I helped, not really my scene. Did my bit. He opens the back door and enters in. His mother is at the wood stove, cooking dinner, dark haired, blue of eyes, flush of skin, heat and rush. He says his greetings; she asks of his day at school; he smells the cooking, smiles, passes by, and up the stairs to his room. He closes the door. Peaceful. He goes to the window and peers down at the garden. Small orchard of apple trees to his left, hedges surrounding. He sits on his bed, looks around the room. Few books by the window, boyhood favourites; Roby Roy, Treasure Island. Ivanhoe, others. A sheet of paper with a list of birds seen recently. Some unticked, rare. He hadn't expected to kiss her. Wasn't planned. He was just going to talk and get to know her. Better, more. Instead he kissed her lips. Brushed softly with his. Skin on skin. Exchange of juices. He licks his lips. Wonder if part of her is here still? He licks again. Tongue over lips, bottom, top. He picks up the list of birds. Unticked are rare. Did she touch him with her hands as he had her? He can't recall. Too suddenly done, unplanned. He felt her bra strap. Fingered it, briefly. The whole afternoon spent on thinking of her and the kiss and her lips. He sensed, when he drew her near to him, her breasts, cushiony, soft. Unintended. Some birds were from foreign climes. Unticked, but not forgotten. The book of birds is by his bed, well read, thumbed bruised. Something stirred in him when he kissed. A buzz along the wire of his nerves. Buzz in his groin. He turns the page over, birds ticked, more common, some more so. Odd that male birds had the beauty, females dull as mud. What did she think after the kiss? He had to go off as the bell rang across the sports field, needed to see what happened to him, as he kissed and after. Down below, dampish, unusual. In the boys' bog, he noticed damp stickiness, odd, unknown. All through afternoon lessons his mind was on her. Couldn't close her out. Lips seemed numb. Licks them now. Tongue over top and lower. Frumpish they called her, others. The glasses did her no favours. Her dark hair untidy, her eyes large and watery. Her lips partly open, teeth, smallish, white. Ears hidden by her hair, but just visible. She smelt of countryside: apples, hay, horses. She was shy, blushed after the kiss. As he had crossed the field, after the kiss, towards the school, his legs seemed jellied, wobbly. Tomorrow he would see her again, then what? Even on the school bus home, he avoided looking over his seat, to where she sat with her sister. He was tempted. Have a quick look, gaze casually, but he hadn't. Regrets now, too late. Should have. Just one peep. Goldfinch chattered almost the
all way home, sitting next to him, showing him cards, talking of school. Teachers. That teacher you like, that one who said, you'll be a writer one day? Yes, he had said. Been dismissed. Took kids home with him, in his lunch time, did things, they say. Oh, he had said, hard to believe, but there you go. All sorts. He'd not gone. Boys or girls? He had asked. Boys mostly, Goldfinch had said. A new teacher now. He should have looked and seen her. Her sister was loud and sparkled. Not his type. Kissed and then what? He puts the sheet of paper back. He takes some small binoculars off the shelf, and peers through the window. Scans the sky. Some one downstairs puts on the radio. His sister, probably, twisting the knobs, getting a station, music on and off, loud, soft. Elaine's nails, bitten down, ink-stained fingers. They played together the fingers. Nerves, twisting over each other. He noticed. Saw them. He was about to say about a butterfly he'd seen, over by the science lab, fluttering by. Fragile wings. Thin, God made, wonder they fly. Kissed her. Lips on lips. His heart thumped hard as a drum in a brass band. A blue tit over by the hedge. Two of them. Goldfinch, the bird, not the boy, was one of his favourites. Bullfinch, that too. He sensed her tongue as he kissed, tip of, not the whole thing. Some big boy had told him and others, one lunch hour, in the playground, about a girl he'd had, up in the woods, off the playing field. None had seen. Good quick go, the big kid had said, like entering a bloody cave it was, warm and hollow. A sparrow on the fence, two three of them. They sit and flutter wings. The big kid hadn't said what was quick or like a cave. The girl was bit of a slapper, the big kid had said. He puts down the binoculars, kicks off his shoes, and lies down on his bed. Closes his eyes. Eyes shut. Sees her, lips pursed, eyes open, large eyes like brown stones, through glasses. His lips make a kissing sound. Pretends to kiss again. Keeps his lips there. Not pressing, just touching, soft silk soft, hardly brushing, dust off a moth's wing soft. His heart thumps, he can feel it with his fingers, pressing. He wonders, odd for him, what she looks like, undressing.
haunt our past
they glide through our fingers
in memory mists
we are wanting to hold
but they tease our grips
If they could have seen the love that we had
and seen past their eyes of dream that went bad
they would still be here
as tangible as the sun
and waste some time before the day comes to an end
cause the sadness to grow
the emptiness to show
our hope to dim
We learn by learning to die
leaving beautiful creatures behind
sucking in the tears
as the years go by
knowing belonging is for another life not here
and faerie tales are only true far away from here
and when we are buried
we will be as hard as the earth that covers us
Oh, you don't get the credit until your kids are grown.
Probably ponder, why you wanted one?
After all the problems they cause.
Those little pest.
Making a housely mess.
Always seeking breakfast.
Even after they have been fed.
Those that requires your attention.
Whether ironing their clothes from their dresses to their pants.
Parents, of an older generation might still call them britches.
Like a judge in a criminal court.
You're the judge of their thinking grown decision.
Destroying the house.
The television and yes, even the computers.
Or anything that comes to mind.
What would we do without them?
Things we fails to honor them for.
Or to be grateful to them for.
Only comes more to mind when they are older.
Or when they have departed.
Parents, they deserve so much more.
I thank God for mine.(Just knowing them)
I hope you thank Him for yours.
Why are there pretty people upon the newscast?
The ones that seem like a magazine model.
Saying things according to script.
Who has signed contracts to not give their own opinions?
In my personal view and opinions.
Let me be surrounded by the simple folks.
Those that keeps it real even if it's a joke.
Who isn't into trying to keep up an image.
Even address issues within their marriage.
Or any relationship.
Yes, the simple folks.
Who would fit in anywhere they went?
Yes, the simple folks.
They accepts you as you are.
Live accordingly to how they feel.
Don't hate upon others because of a few.
More likely to defend them, if they not bothering you.
Yes, the simple folks.
The ones that brings common sense to the world.
Who truly believes in God's word
But doesn't debate it, if you chose not too.
First to say to each their own.
First to welcome any neighbor into their home.
That's the simple folks.
Entertainers moves according to the popular movement.
Simple folks moves according to the people movement.
Don't be determine by anyone else.
Who ever said spontaneity
is a perk
is a liar.
Who ever it was
that romanticized surprises,
is a fucking liar.
Occasionally i will buy flowers
for my mother.
Tell her it's just a reminder
of the beauty she sustains.
Another i will threaten
take her heart
in the palm of my hand
and crush it.
I'll take my lover
on a trip,
somewhere he'd told me
wanted to go
seven months ago.
Then stay in our
sad and irritated,
pushing him away
from the bond
he thought we'd have.
I'll wake up one morn
and inform myself
that it's worth it.
That not all things
are destined to fail.
The next i will crawl back
under cold covers
and weep over
repressed thoughts and
a mind that unfairly
chooses to be content
when it feels like it.
It is always difficult to describe depression,
There are so many interpretations
That people hold,
This is my own.
You're standing on the cliffs edge,
Looking out towards the horizon of life,
Then you see the storm clouds rolling in,
The thunderous roars of trepidation
And the lightning bolts of painful reminiscence
Mirroring the silver scars on your skin,
Then the mighty winds of worthlessness
Hauls you over the edge.
The cool air brushes against your face
As you descend towards the black water below,
Every inch of you is screaming for you to stop
But you can't,
You have lost complete control and you are weak,
Amidst the whistling winds in your ears
You hear the names, the bullying,
The cries of disappointment,
The reminiscent sound of vomit against porcelain,
You hit the water and shatter the surface
And you pray that you have stopped,
Things will bet better ,
But instead you continue to sink,
Numb, cold, aching,
You want to cry but you feel so empty,
Like the bitter sting of the salty ocean
Has clinged to your skin and draws out
The last ounce of feeling you had left to hold on to,
You stare at the surface,
Wide eyes desperately searching for rescue,
The fractured refraction of a flare in the stormy sky,
A hand to plunge into the water and pull you out
And revive you.
I have been fortunate enough to be pulled from
Revived countless times
After feeling like I will spend eternity
Living in the shipwreck of my insecurities.
It is my duty to scour the world and throw a life ring
To every lost soul who deserves to be atop the
Cliffs edge where they can once again watch
Another hopeful sunrise of hope break on the
I love you
I know that I make things hard
And that I often hurt you
I question your love so often
When you've given me no reason to
I'm not going to give reasons or excuses
for my behavior
I will only apologize
And hope that you'll still love me hereafter.