why have we stole glances at each other for a year
a whole year
what is your name?
who am I?
why do you come as close as possible,
clench your jaw,
and look into my eyes?
odd
just another figure looming in the background of my everyday

i guess you could say our eyes are the most selfish things to exist
whatever we lay eyes on
we usually want
our eyes....wandering
glancing
teasing
widening
focusing
manipulating

what's in a name
the ones who just convince themselves to watch days pass by
i guess it's just a waiting game
passive or active
life goes on

i can't word this, i can't word anything i'm just at a loss
anger will destroy us all

they always say to watch out for those who don't clap when you win...what *******
don't overlook the ones that do clap, like a fool, for the best hiding place is in plain sight
the only clap that matters is yours
be thankful to those ones that don't clap, just so you don't owe anyone anything

i'm overridden with lust
my heavy lidded eyes are bloodshot
clawing at these sheets
barely able to breathe
biting my lip so hard even blood refuses to escape the fire within me
i'm typing this whilst you watch me
*******

I place communication within the eyes and the mouth

I exercise control in every aspect of my life that requires collective elegance and that is, to be correct, my life.
I taught myself the value of how you conduct yourself, how you carry yourself and just what actions have people eating out of the palm of your hand,
My courtesy's often are in collaboration with my fantasies, my fantasies are often in love with ambitions, my ambitions were then caught fraternizing with reality....
they ran off together
and brought back a child 2 years later
when ambitions manifest themselves in your daily life
it's a little like getting high off your own supply
and really, I ask myself why....
why
why
and that is why I am what I am today
this very second
and to think change is yet to come

impatience screams in my ear so loud
my eyes plead with impatience to have mercy
impatience is a beast, arrogant and fearless
impatience always triumphs
now it's time to tame the beast into submission

ever write something that made you feel breathless by the end of it?

complete clarity brought about by a distorted image,
clarity so clear that it compares to the broken glass that ricochets off your vision.
swift
fluid,
think of ice, a realization, much like ice that remembers to stay frozen or to melt
clarity so clear that it gives you the same head rush as tilting your head back and letting your lungs fill with air.
natural
paced
ragged,
think of water, overlooked, much like my thoughts
clarity so clear, so sharp, that it is both inaudible and invisible.
faster
desperate
intoxicate
remember those lines, fine white lines, that altered our minds...yeah just like that
clarity so clear that i just don't understand
and understanding has no comparison.....

i write for writings sake

A form of creation craves creation

Is perception a form of injustice?

people make me feel so empty

I'm just so complex I find it hard to hold on to the understanding that I have of myself

****, where will I take myself

Lust, lustrous....lust....lost

It'd be nice if more people interacted with me on here

Everything that I am today, right now, right this second is everything I wasn't
Everything that im not today, right now, right this second is what will make me

learning that marriage is sometimes like a horror film is hard
You learn it the hard way
Sure there was a an alright environment
But the truth when it was revealed was enough to crack the strain
The injustice that in the moment everything is plausible
But when you look back and realise your mistake, all you can do is apologise
******* go back in time, grab your past self and scream, scream as much as you can because it'll be silent because when you return from the past you'll revert back to old ways. Marriage is hauntingly beautiful and I guess it's just sheer luck

I was a little girl, once, blissfully unaware
Hanging on to my fathers leg, wearing a tiara just knowing that life could only be viewed with a rosy hue. And that belief I had as a child has stuck with me to this day but it developed with me as i grew. The pink hue met more people, saw more, felt less and got distorted but still recognisable.
I learnt that happiness could not exist without an opposition and the opposition is the most beautiful thing in existence because it Spurs you on to expand the stretch of your own rosy hue. I'm happy with inconsistent contentment because it represents balance, a fair balance that is neither here nor there, only where it can be when it needs to be and it must be followed through

Language is unrealistically beautiful,
Its captivating, the way only certain things can be expressed in one language and not the other
This means of communication, so much so like the concrete slab that you place over the gap to save yourself, revives the most insane parts of your mind. You begin to access your own psyche in such a way that is uncomprehendable because your perspective is so widely spread that the possibilities for anything is infinitely limitless. Language, communication, creation and our thoughts are the first and foremost foundations of our outlets, which without, we would cease to exist

Sharing thoughts with complete strangers to either criticise, chew on, dismiss or appreciate or just an outlet that everyone can find solace in. Whether you are the writer, the reader, the dreamer, the listener.....

I speak from experience, whether it's to be mentally, physically or a figment of my imagination, I speak from experience.

The book was left half open
The dream was only dreamt for half a night
The conversation was left unfinished
The thread unravelled
But....the thought of "what if" continued
Don't forget, don't make 'halfway' a habit
For halfway never gave way to anything of worth

Always, it'll always be you
Always, for now

i like to play
play games
play with my words
with minds
manipulate
twist
ensnare
control

i'm a very happy person
i'm just frustrated
that doesn't add up
haha ain't nothin positive about this

i know why sin feels good
we all do
why wouldn't something bad feel good
it's just how life goes
but it gets repetitive and addictive
maybe not so nice after all
you almost try to break through the surface
but get bored when you break through
so you just immerse yourself deeper
because contentment is boring

the day i stop having to explain myself may just be the day where i finally breathe in contentment
restriction restriction restriction
i feel trapped
only free to move within boundaries
no explanations
no responsibilities
i just want to create
and do
and make
go out there
independence
i'm working with what i got but i don't need
3 years well nearly 2 to wait....or so help me

10:18
scrolls through phone
10:21
sighs
10:22
forcefully unbuttons jeans
angrily pulls them off
winces in pain
10:25
grabs laptop in determination
10:29
my mind is drifting....i think of you,
i see you around me, i touch you, i breathe your name, i'm surrounded by a manifestation of you
i can't take you i want you away from me
i can't take you i want you near me
10:48
time sure fly's when you come across my mind
in my mind
you are my mind
10:49
foc...us
us
focusing on us
10:51
i played with caution but you and time teamed up together and aimed to tease me, to torture me, to bring me pleasure where i see distress
a sick sense of satisfaction
flows unto my vice
it's a two way street
or maybe a 6 way street
maybe a city
with all these vices collectively linked
i detach
reminiscent
of us
focus
fo...***
**** us
11:10
**** us
11:15
**** us again
11:30
**** me
11:31
i wonder what he wants from me?
i wonder what he feels for me
what he see's in me
what he really thinks of me
does he see inside me or does he just want to be inside me
whatever
11:40
hah..the feelings faded
back to you being nothing
until the next time
11:41
i think of you and smile, gently,appreciating in mock admiration

inherently creepy please back away *****
i'm just a *******

i just wanna be your *****

all I've ever known is a life of luxury
lavish and grand
gold and shiny
sheer darkness and value
it adorns my skin
apparent to all that see me in the way i carry myself
watch me walk past you, you'll be walking next to me if i want you to
it's only a matter of time

if you catch me with my tongue on my teeth, don't bother looking at me twice

i'm impatient yet carefully calculated
rash but completely under control
everything moves fast
time, my breathing, my thoughts, sheer motion but it's blurred in complete stillness
it's infiltrating and wondrous
easy to get lost in, hard to complicate

picture this
i'm bounding through a wood chipped floor forest
in america
everything is a deep green
with a picture of natural brown amalgamated with the black i mistake for brown
i shouldn't be seeing in colour
it's not something my species is used to
i'm only focused on myself
only i matter
primal,
animalistic ,
survival,
human

eyes are so important
but i feel that they're too relevant
but why is it a bad thing for eyes to be relevant
maybe it's the 21st century human nature to lust for irrelevant obscurity, to mask our own relevance
because relevance isn't short lived
and we all hate commitment

i see your hands as a tree
your fingers being both the branches and the roots
the foundation and the being
your veins, the bark
blood, tree sap
my skin on your hand
soil next to a tree

please tell me how i've managed to forge a connection like this with you
i'm just screaming on the inside
funny how i don't even know whether im talking about a person or a little habit i can't kick
whatever you are
you make me feel empty, intoxicated, and completely willing to give myself over
a little tilt of the head, maybe i'll throw in some empty eye action
and just hold myself, my arms draped across the most sensitive parts of my body
at most, caressing my neck

i know just what my eyes look like and i can't even see myself
hell i can't even picture myself
i'm lost in my own wide eyed yet heavy lidded glare

hah how long till you dump me
i;m yours and only yours, right
wrong, left
hah kidding, unconditional, unsurpassed
wait what
l

did you ever wake up and think, i'm going to paint my lips today, i want to sugarcoat them x

God why are you always in the forefront of my mind. you're so temporary but you just appear to be everything. I want you, sexually, of course. I'm lax with commitment and just a little apprehensive of it since i get bored easily. i want you to be the one. i only catch glimpses of you but this time that's not my only indulgence or limit, i now have a means of communication with you and it's so frustrating. i'll miss you when your gone, i miss you, i miss you every day ugh to be continued

poems are raw fragments of thoughts or emotion, a chance to indulge in something as frivolous as acknowledging the truth. A poem is singular, to you and only you, because only you matter, to you

you know, this is something that has really...let's say 'dawned' on me. It may seem obvious but it's something that is practiced with such fluency. The facades we all project, such ease and such guilt-free fun. It's like a sweet lie that you can run alongside in sunny fields with. it's satisfying,highly.
we put on these facades so easily and all it takes is small but effective 'entrances' into your so called life. a little glimpse here and there never did anyone any harm, i mean it's not like it's real.
it's trickery, carried out by the every-man. i'm not who you think i am and you're not who i think you are. we are not multifaceted, we are plain, stripped and devoid of this

what do we all really want? do we know? is it the unknown? is it familiar to strangers or loved ones and just unbeknownst to us?
an odd thought...well not really but you know
I hold myself in my own self proclaimed aura of power by holding my secrets close to my heart and letting others know, that i know, just exactly what i want. I mean i'm sure that's what we associate with power, right? who wants or even needs someone who has no singular recollection of controlling what the mind sporadically desires. I know what i want but that cancels itself out and leaves me thinking in a disjointed manner, just what do i want? and stemming off that, why? and stemming off that how? and stemming off that, does this ever stop?
careful calculation, artistic determination, a 'so called' higher thought process, and lastly, an urge or a will. the ingredients to creation,success and maybe self fulfillment are so substandard, the faux, as I once lovingly called it. The faux, a careful concealment and fluorescent indicator to all around us. It's absolute ******* but so much fun

i say writing is one of my ultimate passions and i'm always called out on my ability at English when i'm at college and people who appreciate my work but i struggle to get what's in my mind out and it's the worst struggle ever i mean i'm not exactly shy of expressing myself in fact i might sometimes overly express myself so what's the problem here?

im seeking something, always searching for that one thing that's is right in front of me