You can't read my mind. You've no idea what it's like being close to you. I'm stunned by your beauty. Your laugh infects me. Your wild hair brings me to my knees in adoration. I cower in fear of my love. I'm quiet. I'm distant. I dream of you that night. I write this.
I used to read your poems but lately you don't write you're silent and aloof you know that isn't right. You can't close a door once opened you can't abolish all your dreams you're a poet of the heart mustn't fall apart at the seams. Say what you can in words they speak the message true spoken from the heart the poems will see you through. A hermit's not your style a recluse, you are not never give up writing of things that you've been taught. I used to read your poems I'd read them once again if you would send them out (this one's from a poet friend)
Her stance was perfect, her eye's were bright Her countenance was emanating a brilliant white light She kept her composure, her hands at her side She knew she was ready with her mouth opened wide then passed her lips came a beautiful sound as everyone listened, their jaw's on the ground. She had the voice of an angel and I started to cry, she hit every note no matter how low nor how high. I can't be sure but I believe God heard her sing, their ears were wide opened and they started to ring. Glasses just shattered, windows were cracked, she gave our hearts the very thing that they lacked. When she was done and the singing was through my heart was softer with a good kind of blue.
It's only fitting, my deepest darkest secrets linger on the trembling lips of the night. Yes, the stars are in on it too! Accessory to crime, they're always in sight. Dusk to Dawn I wear my sin on a sleeve, what else can I do When all they've witnessed slips into the ears of the rising Sun.
You are the light of my life My morning sun and my evening moon I want to reach you and stay by your side Too bad you’re just “not in the mood” Too bad “you have better things to do” Because the only thing I do is think of you
I dream of you thinking about me too
Sometimes we want to be cared about by the wrong person
o lítio dançou com o alcool e me levou embora a minha ultima memória de você eu não me lembro de nada daquela noite talvez por interferencia divina e se eu tiver dito que gosto de você mais do que deveria eu me mato é sério é cedo ainda pra qualquer coisa que seja isso que a gente não deu nome e nem vai dar porque não vai dar tempo de ser outra coisa que não um erro
[voce me deu a chave da sua casa e disse pra mim que eu entendi tudo errado quando tentei entrar]
I blame you. For the dreams that died. For the love that i will never have. For the smile that you took from me. I wanted to fly far away but you Burnt my wings keeping me In the cold darkness. I blame you for killing me.
I like to take a negative feeling and turn it Into something good. We should allow people room to grow and breathe support someone in there dreams #blame #dreams #darkness #killing
Lately I’ve felt as though every little sound and feeling and smell and sight is grating at my nerves and chipping away at my sanity.
My clothes feel constricting and too loose and scratchy and smooth and not right
My ears are full of constant ticking and ringing and noise
My skin wraps my frame too tightly and I want to rip it apart and off of me but then I’d be cold and miserable
It’s all too much and everything is loud and jarring and I feel frenzied and too stuck and not stuck enough and all I want to do is jump in front of a van because then everything would Just Be Quiet. Blessed and sought-after and evasively, quiet.
I love him I tell myself I know that We will be together forever I don’t believe that We could be separated My thoughts tell me that He’s the love of my life Sometimes my heart lies and says I could live an eternity Without him Like my friends say “We’re perfect for each other” And you can’t tell me He’s not the one.
I'm not your canvas; you can't paint over me. My mistakes, my life, it's whom I want to be. So go _________ take your _________ paintbrush and your paint, too, because I love my every stain, and I'll keep every color; red, green, or blue.
By my every stain I mean my every mistake or misfortune, because I learn from each one of them.
I hope it looks somewhat like a paintbrush. I messed around with it, and the result is before your eyes.
They said, "The most beautiful art is looking into someone's eyes when they talk about the things they love." And I said, "Or looking at someone you love. Or maybe, just maybe, by looking at the mirror is the most beautiful art anyone should appreciate."
Appreciation post for myself; for you and for everyone as well. You deserve more than the world has to offer.
If we all turn away from the poor and the dying If we give up on us whom can we call a friend Lift your head up and find a way to help those suffering for a brighter day Should we lie down submitting to the sweet decay six feet under the ground. Let us unite just as one Walking for one single purpose Let us remember when we needed a friend All things will pass away untill the end Look at his heart warm and bright. No more turning away from the sick and the lonely No more insulting merely for who they are They will fly and let their spirit soar They may be lost until they find the door Now's the time for a change
Life is hard It has never been easy But the greater the hardship The greater the reward If the door closes The gates will open If the rain sheds The flowers will bloom And we are just like the sun It goes down and comes right back up
Whether a comma, or colon: Punctuation slows my rolling I need no period. When I end no Capitalization when I begin Rulelessly I flow my art Not a single! Exclamation mark Are you not the one Who'll know? Where a question mark No longer goes
Warp the structure Bend the lines Put in repeat Let emotion unwind Make yourself Your poetry's the best Be your own ruler Pass your own test
Take your own road Where ever it leads Lover or hater It's all poetry!
Traveler Tim .
Hay No matter who you are You have my deepest respect!
Vanity All is vanity The meanings of passion The aesthetic expression The lines we draw and stay within Even love is beyond intent Vanity transcends Flowing from our pens And so we breathe again