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Everytime he hit my mother I swear my skin would be bruised for days.
I let my fingers sink into
The textures of the bed.
The juxtaposition of skin and silk
Makes goosebumps rise
On every inch
On my entire body.
Gathering as much of the sheets
In my hands
As I can hold.
My toes curl
As the flowers do
When they run out of water.
Once I sleep
These feelings will leave
My body.
But you won’t.
 Jun 2014 megan catcher
JWolfeB
I'm drunk.

Off your presence.

Intoxication never felt so good.
I love being intoxicated
I want to runaway,
Far into the oceans.
Into the abyss of waters,
The unexplored depts of
Undiscovered species of fish
And devouring monsters.

I want to runaway,
Maybe to Africa in the forests.
Where wolves, dogs and dragons roam.
Make a tent out of straw and mud,
And all it my home.
Spend the rest of my life alone.

I want to runaway.
Maybe to the snow clad- region of
The Himalayan mountains,
Or to the frozen poles of the earth.
Stand to the highest peaks,
Without any clothes
So my limbs can freeze ,
Till they look like plastic manikins.

I want to run away,
Take up permanent residence on mars,
Or the moon,
Or maybe on the sun.
Far away from earth as possible,
Because If I stay here,
You'll just be a village away,
A city away...
A country away...
Maybe a continent and it wont be enough,
I'll still spend each night thinking of you.

I want to runaway.
Maybe to another galaxy,
Maybe here exists parallel universe
Where I can escape.
One where there are actually super heros
That wear spandex and capes.
One where happily ever after's are real,
And you know exactly how I feel.

I want to runaway.
Escape this reality to wear stars align.
I would bend and twist,
Or manipulating time.
Abuse any available strength I can find,
Just to get you out of my mind.
Not even sure if this is poem... I really feel this way.
I manage my time better than I manage my emotions.
Proceed with caution, there might be an explosion,
Like I'm made of vapors of Flammable and Combustible Liquids.
They say the longest rope has an end.
But do not tempt me with rope,
Because if it gets too hard,
I. Might. Just. Use. It.

© Deneka Thomas . All rights reserved
I literally just had a panic attack.
It was scary.
My heart began malfunctioning in my chest
It was doing 150 beats per minute at best
And all I did was thought of the possibility, that we'll never be.
This is what you do to me.

I spent, half and hour under the shower,
Trying to get my breathing under control.
In... out... in, out and hold..
Holding my breath in hope it would lower my heart rate,
Before it was too late.

I watch my chest flutter like humming bird wings,
My chest, tensed violin strings,
A melody I know too well.
Symphonies and notes that tell,
You are my heaven and my hell.

Will someone please call the doctor?
Heartbreak, isn't as easy as it looks.
You took my heart,
Put it on hooks,
And butchered
Whatever remained.
Now it will never work the same.

Yet still I see your name
And that heart ache becomes,
A mobile destructive vortex
Of violently rotating winds
A funnel-shaped cloud
Attached to a large storm system.

Yes, heartbreak is like a tornado,
That spirals within me,
Each time I think of you,
Tearing and ripping,
And pulling me through.
Nothing could prepare me for this weather.
Yet I can't imagine anything better,
I prefer to face this tornado everyday,
It will,
Remind me,
Of you,
Forever.
I am not a writer.
I am not good with words,
I cannot speak up for myself,
It is my pen that bleed words.
No amount of convincing can give me conviction.
No amount of clarification can make that distinction.
Please refrain from using titles.

I am not a writer.
I am just a dreamer,
Dreaming dreams of inverted galaxies
Where complexities are reduced to simplicity,
And maybe love wouldn't be so complicated.
I dream of a world where I'll be unchained and liberated,
Because currently freedom is hard to go by.

I am not a writer.
I am just another over thinker,
I stay up all night disassembling the world,
So I can put it back together.
Adding new features that I think will make it better
I get lost in thoughts, and day-mares, fantasies and others,
I obsess and I always suffer.

I am not a writer.
Though sometimes I am photographer,
Snapping,
Close ups and selfies of my terrible mind.
Giving glints of places you won't usually find,
All because I write sometimes.
I just express my emotions is what I'm trying to say. This poems sounds like I'm rambling..
Turn the lights out

Touch me in the dark

kiss me at midnight

and taste the whiskey on my tongue

pour wine all over my body

and taste it with your warm soft lips

kiss me gently in my neck

as your fingers are dancing under my clothes

making me crave you more and more

dont say anything

your lips on mine say much more

no ocean can extenguish our burning hearts

no freezer can refrigerate this hot desire

I don't know life nor death

day nor night, right nor wrong

I only know that I want you so bad right now

everything else is irrelevant and forgotten
Jun 21 2014
© WAJ
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