Let my words
continue to carry beyond this page
and into my veins
for purpose, for clarity, for understanding
of how lovely the days have become
now that I've found you
Let my words, on this page
entwine in our veins
and my worries slowly disappear
now that Ive found you
I wrote of you once before we met of how my words would blossom and expand and touch the sky just for you
how I would have a million different combinations of letters and words..
a thousand ways, just to tell the world how I feel about you
so here I am
affection felt, feelings bared
Love is suicide
Hyperventilation, Cardiac arrest
I am crippled by the absence of your warmth when you're not around
Struggling to be free, Whilst chained to the ground
Love is passion
desire fueled, velvet kisses
moaning pleasure, telling sighs
firmly pressed, flawless motion
sweaty bliss, drops of lust
stained flesh with satin fervor
Love is the hope 20 years from now
I'll still be writing of you under the night sky whilst admiring the moon after we finally calmed our son's nerves down about his first day of school in the morning
Love is idiotic
Its so much easier to push someone away, than to let yourself become vulnerable
To give them the power to hurt you.
Showing your true feelings is relinquishing all your power.
Trusting someone to not take advantage of your weaknesses.
And that, is an absolutely ridiculous act
Once weakness is spoted, it is used and abused, untill you are just a quivering mess lying on the floor, wondering how you ever let yourself get into such a situation.
love is in its whole all of these things
and I love you
Love passion suicide poetry