Skittlesforyou - Hello Poetry

Perfect. Such an interesting word, what does it really mean, it changes day by day, person by person but always stays the same for you. Kind. We are of a kind, part of a togetherness that is hard to define, but it always stays the same for you. Yours. I see myself from different eyes than you, you have no filter, no frame, no fog, I always stay the same for you. Mine. You have shown me perfect, you are part of my kind, You have always loved the same. If I'm your kind of perfect, then what am I?

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Aug 16, 2015

Aug 16, 2015 at 1:46 AM UTC

Your Kind of Perfect

Perfect. Such an interesting word, what does it really mean, it changes day by day, person by person but always stays the same for you. Kind. We are of a kind, part of a togetherness that is hard to define, but it always stays the same for you. Yours. I see myself from different eyes than you, you have no filter, no frame, no fog, I always stay the same for you. Mine. You have shown me perfect, you are part of my kind, You have always loved the same. If I'm your kind of perfect, then what am I?

18

I want to be that girl.

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Aug 3, 2015

Aug 3, 2015 at 3:18 AM UTC

Untitled

I want to be that girl.

1

It is a lake, no, pray, a balloon. Pinata can burst, and turn into something quite different. Mark these eyes, believe anything can happen. Hope behind such eyes, broken cages, broken hearts. We sit alone, bars freeze, please... help. No help for us. Lucky? Doubt it. Wish for just simple mental trust, unfortunate, cannot be that, that close. Assistance needed. Going to go, going to stay. Were told to stay, but they never came. Still waiting, but lost hope, lost life. Shy, traumatized, just need soft stream of dew. Just want to be home, but cannot be, cannot stand living. Only belief is belief in a lake. Round, depth defying eyes stare at you to be gentle. And then the bubbles turn into broken, shivering, ***** of mortality.

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Jul 30, 2015

Jul 30, 2015 at 9:45 PM UTC

Shelter Dogs

It is a lake, no, pray, a balloon. Pinata can burst, and turn into something quite different. Mark these eyes, believe anything can happen. Hope behind such eyes, broken cages, broken hearts. We sit alone, bars freeze, please... help. No help for us. Lucky? Doubt it. Wish for just simple mental trust, unfortunate, cannot be that, that close. Assistance needed. Going to go, going to stay. Were told to stay, but they never came. Still waiting, but lost hope, lost life. Shy, traumatized, just need soft stream of dew. Just want to be home, but cannot be, cannot stand living. Only belief is belief in a lake. Round, depth defying eyes stare at you to be gentle. And then the bubbles turn into broken, shivering, ***** of mortality.

3

Sky drops down sheets of rain Giving metal a rich stain Brings a memory to the mind Soft and warm and kind Warm but cool as motion Like the rhythm of the ocean Pitter patter swish splat The leaf upon which sat A tiny little caress of blue Sweet drops of dew.

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Jul 30, 2015

Jul 30, 2015 at 9:42 PM UTC

Swish

Sky drops down sheets of rain Giving metal a rich stain Brings a memory to the mind Soft and warm and kind Warm but cool as motion Like the rhythm of the ocean Pitter patter swish splat The leaf upon which sat A tiny little caress of blue Sweet drops of dew.

10

Something is there, I'm not sure what, but its there. As close as we can get, its not close enough. We are all just paper people until we can fold together, but folding means leaving a crease. Many creases is not bad, it just means you were brave enough to fold into people to become part of a whole. If only I was that strong, my paper is flat, only a few dog ears. I love people with creases. Maybe someday I'll fold and find that something I search for. Meanwhile I lay here blank and flat, ready to be crumpled.

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Jul 30, 2015

Jul 30, 2015 at 9:37 PM UTC

Folding

Something is there, I'm not sure what, but its there. As close as we can get, its not close enough. We are all just paper people until we can fold together, but folding means leaving a crease. Many creases is not bad, it just means you were brave enough to fold into people to become part of a whole. If only I was that strong, my paper is flat, only a few dog ears. I love people with creases. Maybe someday I'll fold and find that something I search for. Meanwhile I lay here blank and flat, ready to be crumpled.

9

Pen is lifting, leaving Parchment behind, blank Inky splatters, swirling Becomes glorious, glorious, grey

0

Jul 30, 2015

Jul 30, 2015 at 9:21 PM UTC

Untitled

Pen is lifting, leaving Parchment behind, blank Inky splatters, swirling Becomes glorious, glorious, grey

4