xiomara-hussein - Hello Poetry

He's not the type to come knocking at your door He's been there before Bad rapport

0

Dec 30, 2016

Dec 30, 2016 at 4:30 PM UTC

xiomara-hussein

Every Time

He's not the type to come knocking at your door He's been there before Bad rapport

3

Solstice, a balmy summer reverie Painted by secreting watercolor filled syringes Flowing doses of vivacious antidotes have been carefully webbed tightly to the tiny rings and pings sung by the now cellophane hairs captive of one’s inner ears Nonchalantly breathing into useless feeble minds Tenacious thoughts now traveling at the speed of light rupturing eggshell craniums A staggering yet haltering cogitation silently seeps through the dark self condemned asylum as if it was awaiting the bargained price. Sound proof simplicity , a temporary lobotomy Everything is still, bliss, and untrue Vortexed by images portraying perpetually uncomplexed inhabitants While foam slowly oozes from any unfilled cavity Rubber, fraying, faulted tubes filled with foreign ideas now escape it’s once fleshy coffin Time lapses while tucking in bedside lies to the shape of a familiar casted shadow Who will you be when it strikes for you

0

Aug 16, 2016

Aug 16, 2016 at 2:57 PM UTC

xiomara-hussein

Neurotic

Solstice, a balmy summer reverie Painted by secreting watercolor filled syringes Flowing doses of vivacious antidotes have been carefully webbed tightly to the tiny rings and pings sung by the now cellophane hairs captive of one’s inner ears Nonchalantly breathing into useless feeble minds Tenacious thoughts now traveling at the speed of light rupturing eggshell craniums A staggering yet haltering cogitation silently seeps through the dark self condemned asylum as if it was awaiting the bargained price. Sound proof simplicity , a temporary lobotomy Everything is still, bliss, and untrue Vortexed by images portraying perpetually uncomplexed inhabitants While foam slowly oozes from any unfilled cavity Rubber, fraying, faulted tubes filled with foreign ideas now escape it’s once fleshy coffin Time lapses while tucking in bedside lies to the shape of a familiar casted shadow Who will you be when it strikes for you

13

I crave to feel the pangs of anxiety fill my fleshy veins Hastily they induce brief, jolting, electric, waves of tenderness I am revitalized like cracked lips to a water drenched cloth Suckeling the remnants of satisfaction Ravenously the addiction sets in and swarms the empty worlds in between my teeth Words filling them in as the deceit spreads I am diseased and bewildered, I ache for the hazardous It’s the lust and temptation of the night I fear will fade away Bare white mountainous knuckles gripping to the guileless lucid ideas of serendipitous romances Surrendering to the howl whilst giving in to the bittersweet and otherworldly seductions of marrow Scraping pieces of the exceptions with a fine tuned whistle and blow deep into my mind's havoc I’ve desired the ever changing hands of he to fool me perpetually Unfamiliar lips in shapes and sizes fill my ears with ceaseless notions Rippling soul shuddering vibrations as if they were the whispers of past lovers There is no you definitively Roaming vivaciously in darkened walkways Sore blistering hands reach palms up beaten sweaty, uninhibited, and cool Etching each tick of the patron clock into my skin, grimacing as the moments slip For when the hue of the lunar’s menace gleam is no longer near Tomorrow night you will be a different you Tenderly forgiving the infractions of dusk’s wicked mystic As l walk past immortalized shadows down by the sea to meet another hue

0

Jul 6, 2016

Jul 6, 2016 at 3:51 PM UTC

xiomara-hussein

Human Connection

I crave to feel the pangs of anxiety fill my fleshy veins Hastily they induce brief, jolting, electric, waves of tenderness I am revitalized like cracked lips to a water drenched cloth Suckeling the remnants of satisfaction Ravenously the addiction sets in and swarms the empty worlds in between my teeth Words filling them in as the deceit spreads I am diseased and bewildered, I ache for the hazardous It’s the lust and temptation of the night I fear will fade away Bare white mountainous knuckles gripping to the guileless lucid ideas of serendipitous romances Surrendering to the howl whilst giving in to the bittersweet and otherworldly seductions of marrow Scraping pieces of the exceptions with a fine tuned whistle and blow deep into my mind's havoc I’ve desired the ever changing hands of he to fool me perpetually Unfamiliar lips in shapes and sizes fill my ears with ceaseless notions Rippling soul shuddering vibrations as if they were the whispers of past lovers There is no you definitively Roaming vivaciously in darkened walkways Sore blistering hands reach palms up beaten sweaty, uninhibited, and cool Etching each tick of the patron clock into my skin, grimacing as the moments slip For when the hue of the lunar’s menace gleam is no longer near Tomorrow night you will be a different you Tenderly forgiving the infractions of dusk’s wicked mystic As l walk past immortalized shadows down by the sea to meet another hue

22

I want to be alone, I want every park bench to be empty and cold. I want to sit on the sturdiness of loneliness and feel the harshness of success. You don’t know me. No one does. I want to travel this city barefoot to feel every struggle and perseverance slip between my toes. I hate my feet. I want to hear the screams of frustrated men and women creeping through the alley. I pray for silence. I want to feel the wholeness within me spring up with longevity and curiosity. I love to cry. I want you to be here with me holding my trembling hands. I crave to be alone. I dream of a world that I own that consist of just me, I want to run wild and free, while the wind tussles my hair with no mercy. I miss you. I want to remember no one, not even me so that way I can roam in this world with no attachments not even to my pride or standards. Don’t forget me. I want to hear the echoes of the moon whispering to the ****** on the dampened slick grass. I wait for morning. I want to sink my teeth into the tears of the earth, letting it fill the gaps as I slush around the meek but salty taste to feel alive. I have always needed braces. I long for the arrogance of man to cease to exist. I long for their stupidity. I see you standing there in the middle of my paradise, I see the sun falling down on your shoulders, I see the woman behind you and the crowd of people with her. I see them not knowing who I am and I see there blankness stare of “care”. I see their smiles inviting me in with yours as it starts to drizzle dreams, gliding down everyone’s pulsating hearts. I walk to you. I want to be alone.

0

Apr 1, 2014

Apr 1, 2014 at 12:52 PM UTC

xiomara-hussein

Solitude.

I want to be alone, I want every park bench to be empty and cold. I want to sit on the sturdiness of loneliness and feel the harshness of success. You don’t know me. No one does. I want to travel this city barefoot to feel every struggle and perseverance slip between my toes. I hate my feet. I want to hear the screams of frustrated men and women creeping through the alley. I pray for silence. I want to feel the wholeness within me spring up with longevity and curiosity. I love to cry. I want you to be here with me holding my trembling hands. I crave to be alone. I dream of a world that I own that consist of just me, I want to run wild and free, while the wind tussles my hair with no mercy. I miss you. I want to remember no one, not even me so that way I can roam in this world with no attachments not even to my pride or standards. Don’t forget me. I want to hear the echoes of the moon whispering to the ****** on the dampened slick grass. I wait for morning. I want to sink my teeth into the tears of the earth, letting it fill the gaps as I slush around the meek but salty taste to feel alive. I have always needed braces. I long for the arrogance of man to cease to exist. I long for their stupidity. I see you standing there in the middle of my paradise, I see the sun falling down on your shoulders, I see the woman behind you and the crowd of people with her. I see them not knowing who I am and I see there blankness stare of “care”. I see their smiles inviting me in with yours as it starts to drizzle dreams, gliding down everyone’s pulsating hearts. I walk to you. I want to be alone.

2

Vacancy is occupied Please come back another time These four walls are condensing Every time we begin reminiscing Oxygen is getting thick Pungent fumes from your neck Keep striking up like a match Lead across a coarse surface It’s lit These four walls are condensing Oxygen is getting thick That taste is gritty Slick Slivers of black start swiveling Swelling up my tongue with sweaty trickery Suffocation never felt so Zen and yet so witty My skin is blue and grey I guess you are what you eat If only it’s death didn't taste so sweet These four walls are Condensing Your oxygen is getting thick

0

Feb 28, 2014

Feb 28, 2014 at 4:31 PM UTC

xiomara-hussein

Vacancy

Vacancy is occupied Please come back another time These four walls are condensing Every time we begin reminiscing Oxygen is getting thick Pungent fumes from your neck Keep striking up like a match Lead across a coarse surface It’s lit These four walls are condensing Oxygen is getting thick That taste is gritty Slick Slivers of black start swiveling Swelling up my tongue with sweaty trickery Suffocation never felt so Zen and yet so witty My skin is blue and grey I guess you are what you eat If only it’s death didn't taste so sweet These four walls are Condensing Your oxygen is getting thick

20

She’s a cunning fool Beautiful like tiny droplets falling Landing gracefully on brittle blood orange leaves Dancing in between the cracks of new and old Weathered, she is strong Growing from the branches of inevitable Predictable as a full grown tree with disfigured twigs We really don’t know her, we are naive The ground is cold, but crunches underneath her clouded breath Just breathe This vindicated pixie, carvings green and black Forever engraved, just to feel life sprout and jump From her veins She tussles with the wind Collecting stones to weave In her basket of leaves They never stay She’s not pretty like the flowers in May Instead she’s haunting and brisk Like the leaves of fall Covered in a thick and heavy fog Lonesome she walks to a side unspoken But preparing for the cold dewy walk on ground unbroken This vindicated pixie, she’s stronger than you and me.

0

Feb 28, 2014

Feb 28, 2014 at 2:05 PM UTC

xiomara-hussein

She is Fall

She’s a cunning fool Beautiful like tiny droplets falling Landing gracefully on brittle blood orange leaves Dancing in between the cracks of new and old Weathered, she is strong Growing from the branches of inevitable Predictable as a full grown tree with disfigured twigs We really don’t know her, we are naive The ground is cold, but crunches underneath her clouded breath Just breathe This vindicated pixie, carvings green and black Forever engraved, just to feel life sprout and jump From her veins She tussles with the wind Collecting stones to weave In her basket of leaves They never stay She’s not pretty like the flowers in May Instead she’s haunting and brisk Like the leaves of fall Covered in a thick and heavy fog Lonesome she walks to a side unspoken But preparing for the cold dewy walk on ground unbroken This vindicated pixie, she’s stronger than you and me.

24

Tiresome he choked Scuffling on the cold wood floor Waxed thoroughly, his eyes meets the cracks of another him An alternate view adjacent and new Conquering the present with its futuristic view Wounds appear, slapping, scrapping, and screeching He doesn’t want this life It’s not his for the keeping Gliding across, fingers numb and broken His tears fall too loudly, rudely outspoken Another him gleaming and cunning Wraps his wrist with grips unreal Forcefully pulled, head first into another him Unwillingly christened, knees bandaged and bruised New, He stands up tall, forgetfully leaves behind The now scuffed, raw ***** cold, wood floor

0

Feb 16, 2014

Feb 16, 2014 at 2:56 PM UTC

xiomara-hussein

Baptized

Tiresome he choked Scuffling on the cold wood floor Waxed thoroughly, his eyes meets the cracks of another him An alternate view adjacent and new Conquering the present with its futuristic view Wounds appear, slapping, scrapping, and screeching He doesn’t want this life It’s not his for the keeping Gliding across, fingers numb and broken His tears fall too loudly, rudely outspoken Another him gleaming and cunning Wraps his wrist with grips unreal Forcefully pulled, head first into another him Unwillingly christened, knees bandaged and bruised New, He stands up tall, forgetfully leaves behind The now scuffed, raw ***** cold, wood floor

16