Your passion lit me on fire like the end of your cigarette
You had me screaming my love from the rooftops
But just like your cigarette, you put me out
And now I'm screaming from the fall

I write about love,
I write about my mother,
I write about the early years,
The flowers and the valentines,
I write about your smile,
Pretend it is something heaven sent,
That your skin held all my secrets,
and that we asked for nothing in return,
I write if nothing to be honest,
For my pen holds every truth I know,
Remember this when you choose to forget,
For I do not know how

too broke to travel the world so you travel your mind instead.
you can put beautiful words to bad decisions but
it's still a ******* bad decision.

never wanna be an addict
but i got no qualms against *******
just don't want similarities to you—
n' you had the nerve to call me vain.

I don't exactly know what to say,
so let me touch you and tell you
my tongue doesn't have to form words
to let you know how I feel. my hands don't
have to draw beautiful people to make you
burn inside- art is from person to subject to person, complex
*** is intimate because it doesn't cross any bridges
it blends into you without an intermediary
Humans make art, God made ***
and one of them is the perfection of the other-
a spinning whirling love that creates
tying people together, the greatest act of humankind,
and I'm playing with you like a puppet on strings
plucking and making music like some deep wooden
long-forgotten instrument, we dance
like pens or swords, each to each, love and war,
and together we're a masterpiece.

I met a wolf

Not really

His spirit
was guarded
By wolf

His words
Come like a
Bullet

They hit deep
Into us

Most consistent
Writer
I have seen in
This site

It's not easy to
Write in such a
Pace

I cordially congratulate
My friend for the completion
Of 2000 poems in Hellopoetry

More to come
Waiting for your
Machine gun
To eject bullets