Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Samaria West Mar 2019
Her
She has eyes like melted chocolate.
You know..
The kind of chocolate to pour down her body
And lick from every crevice
As it mixes with the flavor of her skin.

She has the kind of voice that seeps beneath my defenses
Tears down my walls
And infiltrates the deepest parts of my heart
That I kept hidden.

She has the type of body that makes me drool
Like a teenage boy.
And I crave her *** as if it was a drug
And Im the addict going through withdrawal.

She speaks as if she's lived a million lifetimes.
Her words wrap around my brain
Breaks through my mental shields
And leaves me swimming in her sea of conversation.

She makes me stronger.
I feel like I can run a million marathons.
Her motivation and support giving me the strength
Of Superman with no weakness of Kryptonite.

She brings out the primal side of me.
The one that growls in her presence
The one that marks her and claims her
With no intention of letting her go.

She's my weakness and my strength
My annoyance and my source of laughter
My Queen and my Knight

She's Mine.
And I am Hers.
  Mar 2019 Samaria West
emnabee
The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.
A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.
  Mar 2019 Samaria West
Ally Ann
A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
I wanted to say,
lock yourself in a room,
scream until you have
a poem and no voice.
Open your veins and bleed
until you know that your bones
are pure words and sorrow.
Act as if you slit your own throat
and all you can bleed
are your own regrets
and all of the darkness
you boxed up for inspiration.
Write your mom a letter,
tell her you're leaving
and you won't be back for awhile
Because being a writer is traveling
through all seven layers of Hell
and denying anything is wrong.
Forget loving yourself
when all you have is a pen and paper
fused to your wrist
and Jesus is tapping at your skull
saying turn back now.
Warn the neighbors that if they smell burning
It's just your soul
clawing at the front door trying to get in.
Learn how to be alone.
Learn how to lose everything you have
in order to feel release,
learn how to only feel deceased
from now on.
A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
All I said was
don't
  Mar 2019 Samaria West
Sonia Ettyang
It was random, it was unexpected
But I felt like I've known you before , seen you before, felt you before
You looked deep into my eyes for the first time
And it felt like you pierced right through my soul
So much so, I couldn't hold your gaze any longer
But that twinkle in your eye was oh! so perfect, sigh
And your voice **** it! it struck a chord in my heart
Opening a music box full of forgotten melodies
Oh, well I think I missed a heart beat every time you'd get close
So I ran and you denied it and hid away
We pushed each other away
But I still felt you when you'd think of me
And each day you'd trespass my lucid dreams
Clouding my mind with thoughts of you
I guess it's crystal clear that there's no escaping this soul collision
We are destined hearts, together or apart
Our souls are in sync for eternity
We are forever imprinted on each other
Like prints on the palms of our hands
So lets let this  love flow endlessly
and burn,  to infinity and beyond.
©Sonia Ettyang
  Mar 2019 Samaria West
Antonyme
The night swiftly wafts through the window,
the darkness, opaque, though everything is there,
the soft glow of moonbeams from the heavens,
the clock ticking it's undying sound,
me in my bed pondering life's wonders,
the moon drifting each and every night.
Soon I am gone, everything is gone,
The Moon moves steadily on
something to think about
Next page