Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Apr 2014 · 230
Untitled
beauétre Apr 2014
I don't want to write poetry any longer.

because I've made the mistake of filling my cup to the brim with deeply contrasted little monsters called emotions. they're trying to **** each other but instead they're killing me.

so words don't pour out anymore; they claw.

and the pain...
its excruciating.
Apr 2014 · 294
why are we doing this?
beauétre Apr 2014
sitting too close to me; telling me what I long to hear between nibbles on the tip of my ear. I think I like this. your warm breath on my neck. your tone insinuating ***. hands where they shouldn't be. mischievous giggles and heavy breathing. we shouldn't be doing this. no one between us even for a second thinks of our partners. our supposed other halfs because in this moment we seem to complete each other. fill each other's spaces. far from our others because for now we are lovers and thoughts of them are evaded. why we are we doing this?
Aug 2013 · 506
Up all night
beauétre Aug 2013
Have you ever felt like breaking up with someone felt like you're breaking up with yourself?
Like breaking all ties with this person was hurting you more
Like going your separate ways was breaking your own heart.
But you console yourself through the thick icy winter breeze with the blanket thoughts that it had to be done
Yet these thoughts bring you no warmth
You still cuddle up to her side of the bed with another woman called Loneliness
You still toss and turn from the truth telling you being with her was wrong in the first place
But all you can think of is how right she made you feel
You wake up panting with a sweaty forehead and convince yourself
"I could never choose her over my God"
Yet you once did.
You'd give anything to be with her but finding a person of the same *** attractive doesn't really go with your beliefs.
So you had to pick a side.
Torn between everlasting love and love that seemed everlasting
Between physical love and love so strong that it didn’t need to be physical
You're pacing in the middle of the coldest nights trying to think of a way to get her out of your head
You still dream about her
You still think about her more often than you'd like to admit
Your whole body aches for her in a way beyond description.
In your head you didn’t choose her
In reality that’s what it seems like, you chose God.
You chose a path of walking beside the Lord
But she's the last person you think about even after your prayers and that's where your heart is

— The End —