This is only one day out of so many more to come. This set back does not define you, it’s only a folded back tab in a book, that you will look back to every once in a while when you yearn for clarity.

Live for the promise of an uncertain outcome. Stop worrying yourself to the point of fatigue about what you think your future needs to have to make how you lived your life seem successful. 

Breathe
Live for the promise of one day being able to unabashedly love with the force of a tsunami. So many people will pass in and out of your life, let them go when it is time. Learn from the lessons they brought to your attention. Look back fondly on the times you spent with them, not bitterly. let them move on to their next stage while you move on to yours.
You have so many years to live, call them up in 10 years and see if they found what they were searching for.

Breathe
Stop waiting by the phone for a response. Be what you make yourself out to be, No more excuses. Be gentle, trustworthy and patient.
Breathe
This will pass.

She quenches her thirst with
The tears of the inhabitants
Of sinkholes, claims them,
And gives birth to them anew.
Exhaling the winter wind, the
Scalding embers of December.

No one knows her name,
But you can confide in her.
Share your disarray, she will
Rectify you with her rhetoric.


She's seductive like suicide,
While I am as hung as a noose.
An irresistible demon, a potter
Shaping your every desire, a puppeteer
Manipulating the strings attached to your limbs.
Hailing from the same realm as Shang
Tsung, mortal anguish empowers her.

(c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith

Passionate lover, fluid strokes.
Deep inside, ****** moans.
***** thoughts, innocent tone.
Rough motion, head explodes.
Wet finish, all over her throat.
Beautiful kisses, on her toes.
Lustful whisper, do so float.
Heartful words, I do so devote~

.

She's like a field of wildflowers, beautiful, untamed
When the winter comes, I still will love her just the same
Beneath the veil of snow, I know she still remains
Waiting patiently, to be washed clean by spring rains

She's something like the sun, rays of warmth and love are beeming
I'm more like the moon, its hard to shine when I'm not feeding
Off of the light extending out, when it hits I have no doubt
I could live this life alone, but will not live this life without,
My wildflower

She preferred to take her smoke
break in the bathroom facing
the mirror, losing herself
with each deep breath on the
soapstreak glass.
The single was her
speakeasy, her dressing room,
her long, French cigarette parting
her lips to keep her lipstick from
gluing them shut. She pulled on the
paper towel lever for a temp lover
to kiss until her lips stopped bleeding
Revlon. And the tissue lay balled up
in the trash
having only known her tar love
for a few moments.