Her smile makes my heart melt
Her laugh is the most beautiful
Sound I have ever heard
I dream of playing with her
Soft, chocolate brown hair
And cuddling her in my bed
Her body curves like a river flowing
Her tan skin is soft and smooth
In the warm sunlight
Her strong legs hold up her beautiful figure
She looks at me in the most perfect way
I almost think she understands me
I almost think she loves me
I remember holding her smooth hand
As I pulled her through the crowd
I dream of holding it again
I imagine kissing her lips,
Softly, slowly, gently, with a hint of surprise
I want to rest her face in my hand
And stroke her hair as I tell her
How much I love her
How much I have always loved her
In my mind, I hold her gently in my arms
I play with her hair
I stroke her cheek
I softly kiss her neck and she shivers
I whisper in her ear, “You are my everything.”
She laughs and kisses my breath away
She doesn’t understand that I mean it
Nov 12, 2019
Nov 12, 2019 at 1:21 AM UTC
Joy is the bittersweetness of life.
Knowing something so beautiful
Will be gone so soon.
Lovely yet terrifying.
Peaceful yet heart wrenching.
I savor the taste of your lips on mine.
Your breath in my ear as
My fingers tickle your neck,
Like dandelion tufts
Barely catching the wind.
You whisper my name as I breath in
Your smell of pine cones and rosemary.
A bubble pops every time I
Become more woman and less child.
We sway to the music of our souls,
Dancing a legato waltz for
The first and last time.
You laugh as the summer breeze
Pulls my dress up my legs.
My mind is a beautiful inferno
As you perform magic I have never seen.
I feel beautiful until you are gone.
I feel empty until you come back.
My soul is no longer independent
Of it’s soulmate, and I cannot tell
If I am drunk on happiness.
You have become my home.
A bubble pops.
Your lips taste like womanhood
And I feel beautiful.
May 6, 2019
May 6, 2019 at 12:00 AM UTC
There is this girl;
She is beautiful in so
Many ways I can’t explain.
Her hair falls to one side
And her sparkling eyes
Leave me star struck;
I can’t tell what color they are.
Her lips are perfect,
Her skin leaves me breathless,
Her smile feels like
Bubbles in my chest.
And with these puzzle pieces
Standing, there is something
That I just can’t pin point.
Her being as a whole
Is everything I’ve ever wanted
In my life.
I crave the feeling of
Being around her;
Every waking moment,
I think of her.
I dream of kissing her lips,
Tasting her so close to me,
Dripping like sweet honey.
Watching her smile
As I pull away.
I dream of looking into her eyes,
Watching her stare at me
The same way I stare at her.
I think I am in love,
But I’m not sure what
Love feels like.
Maybe this will be gone tomorrow.
Nov 19, 2018
Nov 19, 2018 at 11:59 PM UTC
Will I always be stuck
In the in-between?
In between happiness
And rock-bottom.
Some sort of melancholy that
Time doesn’t know how to heal.
It feels as though I am always
Stuck on the outside,
Like there is a glass wall,
And my screams are never heard.
What they see is silence
When the bones inside me rot.
The bugs crawl in my mouth
And I tell them,
“Eat me. Maybe then,
They will notice what it looks like
To hurt.” Maybe then,
They will see the true face of pain.
Mother Nature will open
Her windows for me,
Prop the door with
A gold-plated wedge.
“Come,” she will say,
“Be with me and the birds
As they eat away your physicality.
Then your truth will be what is left,
And I will let your soul
Cry in my arms,
When they see
What they have created.”
I look up at the sky.
It is raining,
Wolves and mountain lions
Pouring down like lemonade
On a summer’s day.
“Thank you,” I whisper,
As I melt away into the earth
And become the rot
I was meant to be
From the beginning.
Nov 19, 2018
Nov 19, 2018 at 10:50 AM UTC
Tan skin,
Curly hair,
Tight.
Like a spring waiting to be sprung
To you,
She is exotic.
You want to reap her benefits
Without paying the parting tax.
To you,
God is a woman.
If God was not worshipped
But demanded from,
If God,
Was not loved,
But craved in an ugly violence.
For fun,
You slam her thighs
Against bathroom counters
At Josh’s house!
Josh is your best bud,
And drunk Josh
Likes to do things to girls.
With you.
Tan skin,
Curly hair,
Loosened. By your fingers.
Are those hickeys? On her neck?
No,
That’s just where you grabbed her.
Your beautiful, exotic girl,
Give her a rag to bite on,
While you make her insides squirm.
In the bathroom,
The smell of ***** as your
Fingers pull her curls
Straight.
Huh, not so exotic anymore.
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 9:04 AM UTC
Summer reminds you of roller coasters
Summer reminds me of snuggles in bed
Autumn reminds you of back-to-it-all
Autumn reminds me of whistling winds
You are the blue waves crashing on the shore
I am the rolling sea foam aftermath
You like getting sky-high crazy at night
I dream of peaceful star gazing with friends
Excitement helps you feel alive, beautiful
You amuse me, your need for constant light
I will run under a high way with you
We can go fly kites and break rules for fun
But when we come home, join me on the couch
I’ll fall asleep on your chest in the spring
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 12:57 PM UTC
I remember the sea foam.
I remember looking up and
Only seeing white substance above my head.
My lungs screamed for air as
The water pushed me under.
I remember calling your name,
Sobbing and yelling for help,
As a wave crashed over me
And the tears on my face were
Washed away by the ocean.
I opened my eyes in the water only
To feel my lungs burn again.
I panted, you waded, over to
The mess that was me.
It felt like I was going to die.
I screamed,
You waded,
I swam,
You fought to come closer.
Our fingertips inches away
As a wave pushed me deeper
Into the sand.
I came up and you grabbed my hand,
Pulling me out of the riptide.
The water came up to my neck
But your strong arms pulled me
Into the shallow parts of the sea.
Your hand still holding mine
As we dove beneath the waves
To escape.
Your eyes were icy blue,
The blue of the sea was less cold,
And you saved me.
Why is it,
That painful memories,
Can make you fall in love all over again?
Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 3:00 PM UTC
I have a friend.
She prefers geometry
And I prefer algebra,
But we get along just fine.
Sometimes she goes to talk
To my advisor
And I go to talk to hers.
We criss cross in the halls.
She can make her arms flow
Like they’re butterfly wings.
She reminds me of a flower.
Sometimes she remembers things
That happened in the past
And gets nervous.
Her hands shake.
But it’s okay.
I let her squeeze my hand numb,
Until her jitters go away.
She walks on her tip toes
And the bottoms of her
Feet are worn in.
Her hair is four times
Thicker than mine (we’ve measured),
And her waist is two sizes smaller,
But we understand each other.
The crevices of her that
Other people do not reach,
I have made a home in.
She let me dance with her, once,
In the dark in her house.
We flowed to the rhythm of
The classical music playing on
The radio on her nightstand.
One time in English class
I described myself as bubbly,
But I think it suits her better.
Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 2:29 AM UTC
Today was the first time I realized I was beautiful. It’s different from saying, “I’m cute because when I pose a certain way I look skinny and that’s cute.” No. I am beautiful. It is the regal look in my eyes. It is the dip in my hips and the way my hourglass figure isn’t perfectly smooth. It is the stretch marks, the battle scars, that have been painted along my thighs. It is the way I stand; shoulders back, feet planted, arms hanging at my sides. It is the way my waist moves with my body. It is my hair falling down my shoulders and my back. It is the t-shirt tan from playing soccer out in the Texas heat. It is the anklet I braided for myself, the arch in my foot. It is the way my legs don’t curve at the knee, the way they turn hard when I put their muscles to use. It is the faintest line of my collarbone and the smoothness of my neck. It is the way freckles litter my face like birds are scattered across the day sky. It is the rainbow of colours in my irises, from ocean blue to sandy brown. It is the way I see myself, the warrior that has become me. It is the feet that will carry me to my deathbed; the invisible wings that will lay me in my grave. And in one hundred years, when I march out of the ground, they will see me and they will praise. “It is her,” they will call out, “she has come back! It is our girl; it is our warrior.”
Apr 11, 2018
Apr 11, 2018 at 11:10 PM UTC
Red is the colour of blood
Red is the colour that
Wraps my arms around you
When I am in love
Red is the colour of fire,
Of the warmth that keeps me alive
Red Is the colour
That makes me angry
The colour of you screaming
Down at me and
The tears
Falling
Red is the colour of my hard work
“Beet red face” they call me
A bull and the red flag not
A deer in the headlights
I can fight for my own.
Red is the colour that kills
Little boys and girls
A barrel to the head
Pull the trigger already
Red is the colour of hurt
Watch the blood pour down
Red is the colour of
Slumping to the ground
Red is the colour of tears
Red is the colour of love never spent
Red is the colour of faces never smiled
Red is the colour of her heart
Not pumping anymore
Her breath
Not flowing through the canals of her
Red throat
Never tasting a berry again
Put a barrel to the head
“It’s only red,” she whispers
“Colours
Are nothing
To be afraid of.”
Mar 28, 2018
Mar 28, 2018 at 8:49 PM UTC