Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Jun 2013 Fata Morgana
NAR
She's Poetry,
in more ways than she herself knows.
Just a glance in my direction with those radiant eyes,
or even the mere sound of her voice escaping those lips of silk,
is enough to awaken the butterflies that have been at rest in my soul for what feels like an eternity,
with the intensity of a cyclone.

She's Poetry,
Moving like the smoke releasing from the lit end of my cigarette,
drifting softly wherever the wind may take her.
Her luminous smile alone
is enough of a spark to set my mind ablaze,
giving me the inspiration to write for days and days and days.

She's Poetry.
With just the slightest touch, all my pain instantaneously evaporates,
and my heart begins to melt away.
Sweet as the summer rain, she swims through the rivers of my brain,
and I'm still wondering if she feels the same.

Shes Poetry,
in more ways than she herself knows.
caught in this
too real of a reality
where I'm forced
to look
in the eye
of my monsters
shake their hand
and say
'nice to see you again'.
when
salvation is so close
just a little smoke
a little *****
a little sniff
anything to
get
me
out
of
this
place
because I'm suffocated
by my nightmares
and beaten
by my own harsh consciousness
I need a release
something my
too busy brain
can't fight against
for once
so I'm reaching out
for a taste of a monster
bigger than my own
to drag me away
from
my
own
reality.

— The End —