Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 May 2018 Anjelica
Jack
“please be naked”

she stands in her doorway wearing just a gown,
I walk in the house, dumbstruck by beauty,
up in her room undoing the bow, the shield simply slides down
caressing her curves, stroking down to the floor,
intertwined bodies craving the touch of the other,
joined as one in the gentle acts of love and lust,
romanticised ideals of perfection and soft rhythm,
delicate groans as two become one,
the broken poet, for the moment, is gone,
my drug addiction of you, just wanting more,
As my heart bleeds, love begins to pour.

“please be naked”.
this poem is influenced by The 1975 instrumental song "please be naked". i regularly think of this song as romanticising the act of *** and the trust required with it rather than what most songs make it today. despite having no lyrics the song speaks volumes to me and id definitely recommend it to anyone. stay safe and live well. JY x
 Mar 2018 Anjelica
Patricia LeDuc
I sent a Valentine’s Day card to a friend
Filled with get well wishes…
Hoping she was on the mend
I sealed it with heart stickers
On the envelope flap

Got my mail today
And what did I see?
Familiar hearts stickers
On the envelope flap

I thought it was from her
But it was not to be

DECEASED?
I cried
No not her

RETURN TO SENDER?
I didn’t know
How could that be?

UNABLE TO FORWARD?
What do you mean?
Don’t angels get mail?
March 26th 2018
For Liz
1/9/18 Gone too soon.
A horrific way to find about a death
You are never prepared to see those words
Deceased - Return to sender- Unable to forward
I received this in my mail..not knowing she was gone
 Mar 2018 Anjelica
Mia Sadoch
Take me away
To a distant land
Land of silence and emptiness
So I cannot
Think about you.

Take me away
To a distant land
Land of darkness and distance
So I cannot
See you.

Take me away
To a distant land
Land of negativity and hatred
So I cannot
Love you.

Take me away
From all these lands
Lands that do no good
Because I can
Learn to stand alone.
This poem is for all those who are trying to move on. I'm trying as well. Keep it up!
 Oct 2017 Anjelica
b
some serial killers return to the scenes of their crimes;
i just buy train tickets
and fall asleep on the shoulders of strangers.
as though we were in love,
as though it were ordinary.

and when we wake up
we'll laugh it off
and she'll say sorry,
and that train rides just make her sleepy.
ill say that's okay,
i didn't really mind.

— The End —