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Shipwrecked* heart
Sea of *betrayals

Misconceived idioms,
Blindly enslaved.
Was it really worth it anyway?
Fighting with hope;  a lost battle.
Fallible carcasses on a wooden platter.

Poisonous Ivy in my veins;
silent heartbeat bursting into flames.
Time is a thief,
buried beneath the sea.
Was it really worth the wait?
Fighting for love; a lost cause.
Permeable holes in an empty cup.
Troubling nature, impatient thoughts.

Infected,
Standing aloof.
Leveled indifference,
taciturn blind goof.
Lost chance; misleading poker glance.
Arms twisted, magnificent ache.
Ashes corroding the mechanical brain.

Bloodbath,
besieged wound.
Abrasive torture,
revealing the truth.
Cursed fortune; insensitive to pain.
Piercing a bullet through the soul,
expressed disdain.

Adamant rapture
with no return.
Imprisoned belief
with no more fire to burn.

By: Michael M. De La Fuente
An attempt at spoken poetry.
Thus, shifting to a more metaphorical/vague write than the usual rythmic verse.
Ok.
What's this rush i feel when your skin touches mine?
When you hold me close and our fingers intertwine
to pull me behind you, as we run and laugh
through casino tables, guests and staff.
When we draw odd looks from curious faces
who stare and pretentiously wonder if places
like this are for people like us.
But really, sweetheart, if i had to guess
at how i feel and what magic this is,
then i could only try to describe my bliss
as the gentle tickle of your dress against mine
and the click of our heels, as we move in time
to a beat, that doesn't match that of the DJ
and the music he chose for us to dance the night away.
Then we dance to the Time Warp, and Thriller,
and then a slow dance, after establishing that C is killer
at dancing no matter how crazy. That we should kiss
though we awkwardly don't and maybe, it's my guess,
you don't feel the way i do,
and you don't feel this rush and want this affection for you
that i anxiously hold, and try to restrain from running wild.
Yet i feel as though it is a Great Dane and I a small child
trying very nervously not to be shy,
but to express through words or kiss and a sigh
the feelings i feel for you as you stand at my side
hands perfectly entwined
as your hair and dress
                             slide
                        around
                   your
             curves
          like
        wysteria
           or ivy
              and flare
               dramatically
and             splendidly
               as you spin                            
              and rush
       and laugh
and smile

I smile
describing post prom last night/this morning
**** you N
we pretend to be a lesbian couple as an inside joke, and because we're both pan. we've managed to convince or at least cause doubt in many people. last night was probably a clincher. definitely helps that as far as the school knows we aren't dating anyone else, except for of course our friends who know. it's fun and all, but she's a really amazing friend.
5.18.14


when did i write this.....8.9.14 i do remember having a real random weird crush for like a night but i dont remember this poem being written.

7.3.15
this was such a fun night ohmygod, it was exhilarating to run around and joke and all that. I think I sent a text later saying I did in fact want to kiss her and she was kinda surprised I think. Don't think N knows this exists.

— The End —