I see her in the ocean breeze,
In dark and churning stormy seas,
honey eyes taste salty air,
She’s curls forming in untamed hair.
I see her in the deepest night,
A starry sky of freckled light,
An asteroid, her fall to earth,
Caused ripples through the universe.
Write bad love poems for your friends because adoration isn't limited to romantic relationships! This is for my freckled best friend
It’s a great exasperation dear
To want you all the time
My nights alone forever colored
By the lack of your side spine.
The absence of your morning kiss
Blacks out the morning light
So come and stay with me the day
And kiss me till goodnight.
My golden boy my golden sun
With cherry blossom lips
I fear that my salvation lies
within your golden hips.
So come into my greedy arms
Skin on eager skin
I’ll keep your body safe from harm
Except our marks of sin.
they say i came from Adams rib
I am a woman of mud and marrow
God told you
She will leave a scar
God told you
She will not come cleanly
You told me
You told me
Fold neat and
I took my clay ribs and
made them my home
I prayed to the divine and
the oh so ungodly
Until the Serpent came
Adam do you know that
I won’t let you eat my
Heart in full unless
I’m sure the taste of sin
Will forever stain your lips
I was a glass bottle
all shattered and cold
a boy in a rage
broke me ******* the cove
but you gathered my pieces
took them in your tides
you softened my edges
made opaque my insides
now dear i’m your seaglass
i’m smooth to the touch
hold me soft in your palm
dear i love you so much
for R, love S :)
If for you I calmed the waves
Would you lend me a moments gaze?
If I jumped into the sea
And swam to you
would you be pleased?
If I sliced into my arms
And let the salt cause me more harm
Do you think that you could learn
To feel the way the ocean yearns,
For the soft pull of the moon?
Because that’s how I feel
I’m 16 years old
I’ve been up all night watching old movies
and as my eyes begin to close I hear Clark gable say
You should be kissed often and by someone who knows how
I’m 16 and all I want is a Hollywood kind of love
A soft thing, filled with teary eyed confessions under Vaseline blurred stars
I’m 16 and I find myself falling teary eyed into the arms of any boy with soft palms and a cinema smile
But this love stings
And as I look to the stars for for that blurry reassurance
The sharp light claws out my eyes
I’m 16 and I learn love is a thing with teeth
And those ivory skinned women on screen can fall into the arms of something soft
But every time I fall I hit the ground so hard that it shatters every bone in my body
And broken still,
I get up
and fall again
Take your love my dear,
and smother it softly.
Bury it somewhere cold and dark
and deep enough that my
greedy arms and clawing hands
can barely graze the ache of you.
and I will dig up every piece
and swallow your shrapnel until
my insides shred and I am left
praying to your fractured shape.
take your love,
take it gently
and take it far away from me.
You say you love the look of me,
Curled in your bed at night,
But lover you’d be horrified,
If you’d just turn on the light.
The contour of my fragile spine,
That spot behind my ear,
Lover these are sacred grounds,
Old ones are buried here.
Deep beneath my warm, soft skin,
They lurk, they wait, they claw.
And in that shadow on the wall,
You’ll swear you thought you saw-
You say you love the look of me,
And lover I suppose,
That you can love and look for now
Be fearful of my bones
Let me be the altar stone
And the dagger carved from bone
Let me be the beating heart
And eager flesh you cleave apart
My love if you must give an eye
Let them tear out both of mine
I’ll be your blood, your breath, your vice
Your willing sacrifice.
I pour the golden lacquer down,
It soaks the dark and muddy ground.
As light and dark begin to meet,
Yin and Yang pools at my feet.
I break my bones and let them heal,
I let myself savor the feel.
Ancient beings claw and whine,
Their song is short,
they sing two lines:
“Fear not for your broken hearts,”
“You’re stronger in the broken parts.”
The Japanese art of Kintsugi, or “golden joinery,” is the repair of broken pottery with gold laquer.
Trace every line of me
love me softly and without restraint
(The devil eats at my table
She knows my bed like a lover
In the dark our spines draw close
To something shaped like love)
Play every string of me
Pick one and
unravel me so
I tear apart at the seams
(How could I be so full of honey
Matched equal in venom?)
What if we bought
a house in the country
And we had enough time
and we had enough money
And every Sunday morning
I’d cook you love in a skillet
With a pitcher full of love
dear your cup I could fill it
cause I’m driving through the country
And you’re two plane rides away
And all the houses have nice porches
And there’s so much left to say
We were both standing on
the biggest balcony
I’d ever seen
There was a wind
it’d knock us off our feet
You put your arms around me
You had mist
rolling down your cheek
The sun shined
on the other
The fog was rolling deep
But the cold doesn’t mean a thing my dear
If you and I
could just stay here
For a minute
or for a day
But I know that I can’t stay, and so
When our hands begin to roam
We untangle and
We stumble home
A little more weather beaten
And alittle bit more whole
Lend me your breath, your pain and your hands, my dear we can fold all that aches into something worth bleeding for.
I’m being made half by lust and longing their weighted grip on my waist
and thighs and throat will not begin to ease until our bed is made.
So run fast dear, your bare feet can hardly stand the journey so do not stumble.
Bring the sheets and the wine and I will wash your ****** soles of the time it took you to find me again.
— The End —