They speak
They gasp
They roar
They moan.
Those **** lips.
They smile
They bite
They temble
They yell.
These **** lips.
They suckle
They chuckle
They stutter
They sing.
Those **** lips.
They pry
They whisper
They lick
They kiss.
These **** lips.
He speaks
I listen
He kisses
I melt.
Those **** lips.
Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 9:47 PM UTC
It sends me shivers,
It gives me chills.
These old walls,
These night time pills.
Your notebook on the dresser,
Your jeans on the floor.
Your voice in my head,
Your shoes at the door.
That one picture on the night stand,
That you held me so tight.
I can't believe your are gone,
I know you were tired of the fight.
This blanket is cold without your warmth,
This pillow smells like your hair.
But one day I'll see you again,
But I won't be sitting in a hospital chair.
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 4:09 PM UTC
It is here,
The snow is staring to thaw;
The birds sing and cheer.
The vines are growing the honey is raw,
Everything becomes unfrozen; the river, the lake.
Animals of all sizes come peeking out,
The squirrel, the bird, the snake.
Finally it has ended this freezing cold drought.
The winter was hard, cold, and ugly
Fevers and chills will disperse,
Now it is time for a new season to hold the key,
Mother Nature has opened her purse.
No rain, no clouds, only sun;
Sweet smells of flowers in bloom,
Now winter is done,
It slips away till next year inside of its cold tomb.
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 12:26 PM UTC
She creeps over my pillow like a
Black cat over a field mouse.
She steals my breathe as if she
Were a masked theif.
She makes me scream like a
Mother in labor.
She sends me night terrors as if she
Is a shattered mirror in my mind.
She pulls at my droopy eyes like a
Hand of terror in the darkness.
She frightens me as if she
Is certain the painful nights will never end.
She flees when the light arises like a
Prisoner escaping their cell.
She is a horrible dream that keeps
Occurring.
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 9:41 AM UTC
He became
My pillow
My blanket
My air.
He became
My lips
My smile
My thoughts.
He became
My tease
My hand
My hold.
He became
My 3 am laughter
My 4 am kiss
My 5 am Sunlight.
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 2:42 PM UTC
It is getting harder to tell him,
It is getting harder to look him in his eyes.
Gosh those eyes,
Enough to sweep away my sole in one
Glance.
It is getting harder to tell him,
It is getting harder to kiss him.
Gosh those lips,
Enough to make me weak in my
Knees.
It is getting harder to say it,
It is getting harder to explain it all.
That this,
This Web of Hope that we have made,
Will soon be a sheer memory on our fragile
Hearts.
It is getting harder to feel his whisper in my ears,
It is getting harder to soak up my soft tears.
His soul;
What if this is what will crush his tender spirit?
What if I am the one that breaks him
I do not want to be the ones that make those strong hands shake.
It is getting harder to smile and repeat those three meaningful words,
It is getting harder for him to understand my gypsy soul.
I do, I feel the heartbreak coming
Space slowly ripping us apart.
These winter winds bring a chilling feeling in my gut,
But will this all make me stay?
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 10:48 AM UTC
You cannot hide,
It will find you.
It is not meant to be camouflaged,
Rather avoided by those who claim
They are innocent.
It is not what you have done or
What you will do;
It is what you failed to prevent.
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 11:07 AM UTC
An old town that escapes the reality of today.
I'd trade anything to see it in all of its glory.
No cell phones, everyone smiling and waving.
Everything peaceful and happy.
The sun peeking through the pine trees.
Do you hear the mockingbird's song?
The summers are hot and humid,
the creaks are filled with crawfish,
The banks filled with frogs and
Us playing cowboys and Indians.
A summer love and
A Mason jar of cold sweet tea.
"Thank you Mrs. Maybell!"
We giggle and run to our hiding place near the oak trees.
"Tag your it!"
We all scurry barefooted through the woods.
Screams, shouts.
We forgot how we are still here,
In the same town over taken by the sounds of silence.
You may think this story is over;
The truth is, it’s only just begun.
"Back when I was a child"
maybe seem boring to some,
but if you listen-
You may be surprised how you will want to go back
to a time when we could play near the creaks
and pay five cents for a coke.
Life was simpler back then,
Back when;
This town was small and simple,
but it was home.
And always will be.
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 9:03 AM UTC