She stands across these past few months like staring down a calm ocean. Her thoughts are completely empty and she's wondering how did I ever make it out alive? Sinking to the bottom is my everything, my lingerie, and our photographs. Everything is a coldness she can't shake. Lightening crashes and her love was swallowed by the sea. It was too late to get out, and all she knew was this war for months, malnourished, lips cracked, eyes bloodshot as everything drowned. And then the silence. And the crystal clear mirror that was the ocean made her look very hard at how that ship sank. The bruises and the screams are stories too difficult to tell. She only tried to reach land by bearing through it, not really believing she'd actually make it, that she'd actually be here, that she'd actually be staring at the shipwrecked man. He lay like handsome prince charming in the sand, and for the tiniest moment, it was all not true. They still trusted each other and the sirens were leagues under the sea.

.
.
.
at the end of a long work week, she could feel the universe
and it felt like
walking backwards.
she wanted to turn the key, sighing,
step into everything that is dark
and cuddle with her feline friend,
whom thousands of years ago
were worshiped idols.
And she lost herself in her own solitary soul
her cat purring, resting on her lap
like a imperial sphinx.
.
                    ...theprettypoems...

there was a fighting in me
that would not let me sleep) Hamlet
i stared into the heart of darkness
listening to the battle
of losing brave horses
and warriors.

I can't win.
I have let in the possibility of defeat
and now I see my heart
refuse to retreat, attacking
blindly for her soul.

And the enemy are usually you're friends;
Worlds you stepped into
out of curiosity to conquer
the unknown. it was an attempt
to trade new riches and learn
another language.

Poetry is alchemy, choosing to put your spirit
and passion into all the words, and what's more
to see it explode, to see it corrode
like the stars you admire. They aren't standing lanterns
in the dark, they are bursting, unraveling
onto themselves...

Find those starseeds that possess those sunshine eyes
whose beauty runs deeper than their skin
that flows like a river, growing like nature
free as bird, find those creatures...

you can't say a word, but a prayer falls
off your hands into the soul of the world
and your hoping those gypsies catch sight
of your crimson hair....

hippies wear clothes they sewn themselves,
beads in their hair, and handmade stone jewels adorn their necks,
and sing by the fire
and play the drums
and tell you "Flower child, haven't we met before?"
They are
spiritual beings having a human experience.

She jumps over cracks, there's an echo she is following
"I can hear you!"
She's awakening, she calls out to love
"I can hear you,"
She picks up her dress and runs a little faster, she cuts her tender
bare feet on the sharp rocks, but she does not feel the pain.
Light pours out of her heart. Some people are intimidated by the light that's resonating underneath her skin and say she's too much,
and believe she'll get lost in her wondering.
There's an echo she is following.
The voice shouts back, "i can hear you!"

It has been more than twelve hours and I think the spell of his kiss has began to wore off. It's hard to deny a man who is fantastically powerful, good-looking, and smart. He could see right through my innocence. I keep looking at my cell phone, he has sent me one text, and I haven't replied. At lunch, with my boyfriend, I kept staring out into nothingness. I was sexually unsatisfied and stressed over work and bothered by my lover's lack of ambition. There is a painful handsomeness to my lover, and I would never sacrifice the love we have. But there are other loves out there with fatal results. Last night, I laid down in the grass next to this guy and gazed at the distant stars. Not being able to advance made him more desirable. That kiss was full of lust, unbridled lust. I am being driven mad at the thought of how much excitement it brought me. The whole experience was intoxicating. And I am scared that a bird will tell my secrets, i think a glowing white raven was in fact the stars, and he will tell my boyfriend that I was unfaithful. Even though, deep down, I have always realized this. It was my boyfriend, in the very beginning of our courtship, who fell in love with another woman, with unearthly beauty. She was enchanting, her icy blue eyes metaphysical and her touches delicate. I have always been able to feel with my empath powers when my boyfriend was attracted to someone else. It makes me sad that we are loved and flawed. That we are two creatures trying to live in love forever, with our hopes and aspirations and our wistful secret fantasies. I close my eyes, and turn the raven black for being a spy. I take his feathers and make a head-dress out of them. I ponder what our next encounter will be like. I think his ability to move one will be most impressive, and i'll watch him go like a fire unleashed in the heart of darkness.

1.

i thought about seeing her in a private environment
like sitting in her room by herself on her knees
surrounded by her own messes
and scanning the internet for something to spend her time on.
do you ever picture yourself
on the outside looking in?
Does it make you feel like jumping up,
and immediately pick up a ***** coffee mug
and a bag of marshmellows to take to the kitchen.
Does it almost make you stand up
and change your clothes
like your best friend
(your only friend)
is coming over?
Does it sink in that sometimes you just don’t belong
and that friend never comes over
or messages you
or invites you out to eat.
Why do your friendships last as long as a boquet of peachy roses?
Suddenly you see yourself: walking over to the glass flower vase
for fresh water when you know it’s too late.

2.

he used to look at me like he was eager
to have a word or more.
he says, he says,
that this union is forever babe.
something makes me feel that
truth but loving is really hard
when we flirt with mythical creatures
and **** **** to numb the reality
that loving you is never enough.

3.
your breaking my heart, your breaking my heart
this is harder than anything i feared.
you listen to the playlist of your high school years
because something makes it hard to breathe.
folded knees, somebody please, save me from the mess I made.
it's the same old story, just different lines
and i'm tired of playing the same role.
isn't someone listening? I can hardly breathe on this black stage
am I supposed to pretend
that this isn't real?
That after this, we could just go home and be together?
You're falling apart, you're falling apart
every ounce of energy wants to cry out loud
but instead of tears, hot salty forums of unhappiness,
your turn the music up
to drown out the loneliness
and boredom.