The whiny heart
That's usually on my sleeve
Has gone into hiding.
I keep it in a safe,
Underground,
In the very bottom of my stomach.
It will soon go into witness protection,
After providing insight
In the trial prosecuting my feelings for you.
I keep it safe from you,
From your ignorance, from your insensitivity,
But most of all, from the possibility that
You might just agree with me.
And I will grieve.
And It will hurt.

I felt the magic in you
moving incessantly in me,
leading me to the deepest tunnels
of your perfumed paradise,
your poetry so electrifying,
gratifying, intensifying,
these desires so overpowering,
wanting to slip away inside your naked escape.

she said her tears
were pearls

each one more
valuable than

the next she said

I would be
lucky to discover

just one she does
not shed them

for just anyone

she strung them
together and made

a necklace

I asked if I
could try it on

she said I was
not strong enough

to carry that
much weight

Not always the writer's intent
Sometimes they are screaming on a page
Others make love to it
Took time to know that artists do much more with words than they are given credit
No matter what your genre is, if you write than you can hear me
It was never meant for to happen
The fact that it did is a gift
You all are gifted and you perfect and polish your craft
Can you see yourself?
Your heart is on your pages but where are your eyes?

C@rainbowchaser2020

'Asleep', they say.
Waiting for whatever is to come next.
Though, a crooked nose and
Scent of decay pulls you back
To this reality —
The one you left not too long ago.
Empty eyes lacking pigmentation
Feigns life and claims you,
But only I see it.
Only I
Hate the past tense.

it's the sweetest thing
when your ocean blues
are staring right at me.
and I know I like to romanticize,
but this time I know it's true.
because when my hazel greens
are staring back at you, too.
there's a Silence that
only comes when even the most
immaculate words just wouldn't be
enough to describe the love
between us.
©KSS 12/2020