There are those who would not agree
With the thought of you and I;
The thought of our lips touching,
Of you kissing my neck as I arch my head back in laughter.
Sharing a *** of tea in midday,
Pointing out our favorite lines in the song
And realizing altogether
That we’ve only known one another’s touch
For a short time; yet it feels like eternity.
I do not know all the secrets you hold,
The worst thing you’ve slurred while drunk,
Or how many friends abandoned you.
And you don’t know the dusty corners of my mind quite yet.
But what I do know is that
Your skin is made of galaxies,
Your eyes of stars,
Your heart of nebulas
And I can no longer imagine the night sky without you.
And even if my baggage comes with peach tea
And yours holds the ashes of cigarettes,
We won’t know the difference 20 years down the road.
Brew me up and I’ll inhale your nicotine,
Let me steep and I’ll exhale the smoke you've held in for so long.
I’ll be your anchor and you can be my wings,
And we won’t give up easily.
We have this life and the next to figure it out,
And when the earth falls, and we plunge through darkness with it,
Nothing but our stars will remain.
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 6:22 PM UTC
I am nothing but a jagged shard of glass
Protruding from the Earth's surface.
Perhaps if you casted me out to sea
And waited for my remains
To wash up on shore years from now,
Worn from the saltwater and sand,
I will be polished and shaped
Into a smoothed gem,
Worthy enough to catch an eye,
To be held up to the sun,
Then dropped back to Earth
And buried beneath the waves.
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 2:08 AM UTC
Two young lovers caught in a storm;
Swirling and stumbling,
Looking for a reason or meaning,
But they keep getting drawn back
To pure pleasure.
Mixed between the sheets
Is a feeling so untouchable
By even the slightest of light;
It contains the most unclear meaning,
Such as a work of abstract art.
This art, this feeling,
Bound by a question so strong
That it pulls two together,
Both physically and mentally.
Neither know the exact question,
Yet they search for the answer,
In romance, in the sheets,
In opinions, and thoughts,
And in the darkest corners
Of each other's mind.
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 1:55 AM UTC
The vertigo stricken acrobat
Balancing on her tightrope,
High above the sunken rooftops
For what seemed like days on end.
Shaking and weak,
It could be said that
A single drop of moonlight
Could push her over the edge.
Oct 3, 2013
Oct 3, 2013 at 12:10 AM UTC
She is a house,
More like a cottage.
Small, quiet, quaint,
We all know the kind.
She is kind,
Her doors are unlocked,
And everyone is welcome.
Many come and go,
And some she wishes would stay,
But she understands
That there are other houses
That they want to visit, too.
From the road she looks perfect,
Like the house you want to settle in,
Raise a family,
Grow old and pass away in.
But when you get close
Enough to smell her wildflowers
Sitting on the porch,
You can see her pastel paint,
Peeling and cracking from
The sun's rays.
You can hear the floor squeak
From years of slight mistreatment.
You see the tiny nicks and scratches
On the furniture,
And the once polished silver
Is beginning to cloud.
The fireplace isn't quite warm enough,
The walls aren't quite thick enough,
The roof leaks here and there
In the heavy rainstorms.
Maybe she isn't the house
You want to settle in,
Raise a family in,
Grow old and pass away in.
But for now she will do,
Because she offers some warmth.
And in the morning you will leave,
Possibly visit another house,
Or cottage,
Or mansion.
But her fire will still be lit,
Her furniture will still be there,
And her doors will still be unlocked.
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 2:46 AM UTC
I am a pillar,
I am a strong structure,
Holding up my friends
And my family
And all those around me.
They see the sturdiness,
Feel the smooth finish,
Lean and tug at my base
And I have not fallen,
Yet.
But these bones are becoming brittle,
These walls are beginning to crumble,
The structure is shaking
From what feels like a thousand tons
Being set upon my shoulders.
My back is aching from the weight,
My knees are wearing down,
The smooth finish is beginning to crack,
But I have not fallen,
Yet.
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 2:28 AM UTC
I am not a barely passing score.
I am not a C- on
Last week's Algebra test.
I am not the hours spent
With my nose in a textbook,
Trying to solve a puzzle
That I will never use again.
I am not constant late nights
That are wasted studying
And stressing for my future;
A future that I'm supposed
To figure out right now.
I am not the answer that I need
When I raise my hand to ask "Why?"
And the teacher just ignores
My question, once again.
I am simply a human,
Attempting to find a place in this life,
Trying to grow and learn in wisdom.
And wisdom is not a barely passing score
Sep 12, 2013
Sep 12, 2013 at 10:47 PM UTC
"But (I) will help with anything you (need).
I won't judge or think any less of you
You can tell me anything and everything.
I will be here, I will (help.)"
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 11:03 PM UTC
And why am I here,
In this land of the living?
Are we even living at all?
And why am I here,
In this odd thinking society?
Are we even thinking at all?
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 10:51 PM UTC