“I wouldn't expect you to know beauty."
Beauty isn't ten pounds of make up, long hair, and thigh gaps
Beauty isn't the biggest ***** or **** you can find
Beauty isn't always short and petite
Beauty is her personality
It's her laugh, it's her smile
It's her ability to make you laugh for miles
It's her hugs that make your heart beat fast
And blushing madly when she grabs your ***
It's the way she loves and lives off of fun and enjoyment
It's the way she holds you during sleep over nights
She may be beautiful on the outside, but that doesn't compare to what I know is on the inside
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 6:57 PM UTC
Drowning. Drowning in a world so cruel.
Your lungs are filled with all your doubts,
Your doubts that you're not perfect.
You open your mouth but naught comes out.
You struggle and kick and gasp for air
Until you feel like giving up-
And then you see him.
His caring eyes and loving words
Cause the panic to subside.
And all that's left is you and him.
You drown again yet it is pleasant,
You're drowning in his love.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 6:30 PM UTC
She holds back her tears
As she stares in the mirror-
Seeing herself as everything she fears;
Fat, ugly, an utter failure.
He holds back his tears
As he stares in the mirror-
Seeing himself as everything he fears;
Scrawny, ugly, an utter failure.
Little do they know that
Mirrors can lie,
They don't show us what's truly inside.
It reflects a human's want to try,
Try be perfect in society's eyes.
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 5:58 PM UTC
She hold you in her arms at night
And you know to her no one compares.
You turn your head to focus on the beautiful sight
Bathed in moonlight, you move her hair
Out of her eyes and behind her ear.
She stirs in her sleep, you dare not move.
You pull her closer feeling no fear,
And you place a kiss on the lips you love.
"I love you" you mumble as you settle down,
But not before a final glance
At the lady at whom you never frown.
And one more kiss for fears there won't be another chance.
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 5:48 PM UTC
We live in a world of OTPs
Shipping a love that doesn't exist.
We live in a time of "whoa is me"
When opportunity comes we tend to resist.
See we like the imaginary, you and me,
Living a life of heavenly bliss.
Some love it so much they tend not to see
That they could be missing their true love's kiss.
Step out of the fake and into the real,
I feel you would really like life here.
Trust me please when I say this dear,
Life will soon be better than your dreams.
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 5:26 PM UTC
i have nothing
left
to give you
but my
tears,
but ******* it,
i'll give you those,
too
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 11:54 AM UTC
she was a poet,
and he was her pen.
in him,
she always found words to write,
songs to sing,
thoughts to think.
he'd smile,
and kiss her softly,
and say,
"write me a poem."
and she would.
she'd put poe,
and whitman,
and shakespeare to shame,
and she'd write a poem that made his eyes water.
she'd compare him
to a rose with no thorns,
a book with no end,
a world with no poverty --
the things we all wish for,
but can never attain.
//
he asked her one day,
"what am i?"
and so she picked up her pen,
and began the usual:
*you are the shining sun after a hurricane,
with rays that open the eyes of the blind.*
but he stopped her after those two lines,
and said that this time,
he didn't want any metaphors,
or similes,
or analogies.
he wanted the truth.
and so on that night,
as he slept,
the poet picked up her pen,
and she wrote.
she wrote,
then thought better of it,
then started over again,
and this cycle continued well into the early hours of the morning,
until suddenly,
she wrote, frantic,
*if i can't love you for what you really are,
have i ever really loved you at all?*
this, too,
she thought better of,
condemning it to the trash.
the next morning the poet was gone,
her final work a mere two words:
i'm sorry.
(a.m.)
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 5:23 PM UTC
dad left
for his second tour of duty
on my third birthday
mom kept
a jar full of jelly beans
on the living room coffee table
every night
she gave me one to eat, saying
"when these jelly beans
are all eaten up,
dad will come back home"
sometimes
i would sneak another,
to help dad come home sooner
one night
the phone rang
and i watched mom
wipe away a tear
as she filled
the jar
back
up
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 5:18 PM UTC