The brave woman feels like water vapor
In a Room of ignorant disaster
And colorful brick walls crumble down like cheap paper
At the Hand of their Righteous Master
Where Empty Canvases and Abstract Words
Form to make art
The wise ones with skill in foolish herds
Will surely decide to depart
And how the ozone feels to The Man
Who burps and throws aside
The Man whose every which plan
From birth you shall abide!
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 1:50 PM UTC
It’s an odd type of love I have for him
A sort of knowingness, as if he’s a safety net
That will save me from my self-destructive tendencies.
I find him to be, at this moment, in the center
Of my thoughts, of my brain
And at first, I wished to deny that he existed in there as more than a friend
But now, I find myself okay with the possibility that I could be falling in love with him
It’s as if he can read me like just another poster on the wall
But chooses to take the time and notice
And that sort of flattery, I never thought I’d learn to appreciate receiving
From someone like him
He’s not what I had in mind when I pictured a knight in shining armor
But in a way, he’s better.
More reachable, more realistic
And as much as I tried to prevent the thought of him from sinking in to my heart
He fits right in.
And maybe in a day or two, he will do something foolish that removes him
From this area of myself which I have only let a few enter,
But right now, I’m happy he’s right there; constantly, in my thoughts
And I’m not sure why
But I’m filled with joy at the thought of his awkward smile
And his perverse, or semi-cruel jokes
And the feeling of pure bliss I get when he nudges me
And I'm not sure why
But I think I'm falling in love again
And I think I'll end up broken again
But whatever the end result is...
I’m happy that he’s taken a place in my world
And I really hope I've taken a place in his.
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 8:01 PM UTC
Old habits never die
I'll always want you by my side
Warm large lips
Chronic green eyes
Cold finger tips
Our lust never dies
Quick heavy breaths
Stolen wet kisses
Leaving tingles on my neck
And scratch marks on your back
Lethal nights and morning regrets
You and I is as good as it gets
Long gone love and tasteful resentments
Are completely forgotten by the touch of the skin
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 4:49 PM UTC
He periodically looked at my mouth as I spoke,
As I enlightened him on fascinating art and my new theories on literature
And I began to fumble on my words as my sentence fell apart
An immediate unavoidable reaction to the way his eyes made my lungs expand
We were left staring into each others features
Studying the bumps and smooth edges
Wondering if it were real
His pupils felt magnetic and I felt as if I were familiar with them
As if I had seen them my whole life yet they were new and exciting
With one electric staring contest ,he understood me, and I understood him
The hallway turned dim and the voices drained out
And at just the right instance he ran his fingers
Across the hair that dangled from my head onto my bare shoulders ,
And planted a wet kiss on my dry lips
And his breath escaped his lungs and filled mine
And his neck felt soft against my palm and his hand cold webbed into mine
And his tongue tasted of cheap beer and expensive mint gum
I finally felt safe while everything around me ;us, magnified
Our heart beats, the grunge music playing in the background,
And the tension in my nerves; stronger than ever.
But it was an optimistic type of anxiety, knowing I'd end up in his arms
Tension, because I knew my world would explode that night
Because nothing this amazing could happen with no terrible consequence
But none of this mattered
At that moment, we were escaping, terrified and invincible
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 12:15 PM UTC