she dries her hair in sun
in red frock windborne high
dreaming there's one
one day would pass her by

enwrapping in heat
sun licks her oily skin
flows down her lithe feet
craves one peep deep within

tickles her wind's mischief
its murmurs's caress
titillates her like a leaf
paints a rose on face

with her i can spin
yearns in my core
she's sweet sixteen
i'm two scores more

This isn't a poem, just a letter for anyone who cares of the poetess Nicole dawn... Whether you know her or not, she wrote a simple poem yet saddening titled- ( goodbye) all the poem said is " I'm done" ... So for any one who has read this please try messaging her, and support her.. There's another poet, human being. And more importantly a soul's life on the line.. And I see this daily.. Not just with miss dawn but with so many other poet's, who aren't just writing what other poet's consider "depressing poetry". Simply its a suicide note.. Yet others didn't seem to know this. And others may see poems like that daily.. But instead of skipping the poem, remember half of you who were down and out and lonely at one time , and maby suicide even crossed your mind. Wouldn't you want someone there? Some may say no, only due to the fact misery speaks that to one, and demons are good at tempting people to not want to live anymore, though fact is even those that say no I wouldn't want help, NONSENSE!!! we're all soul's, we cry out. We laugh, we love, many cry, some hurt. Some are tortured by very real demons ( not just something in ones head or in stories ) this is reality what's going on.. So instead of passing the next poem you read saying ( goodbye) how about messaging the person saying that, and put aside your issues for the day, and give your self to another.. And your time to them for one second, love is the answer. Not selfishness, not wantonness, not greed. Or all about us. It's about that person's poem you read ( goodbye) the soul you passed by. The poet, a poet like you. That you passed by.... Please give Nicole dawns poem a look. And message her. Because surely, any dying soul would respect and maby still be alive from your message... Thanks for reading, and btw, God wants us to help another, listen to another,love another... Not ****** another with words, or hatred, or envying, or back talking. We can choose to help another, which helps your soul, or we can burden our own souls, and turn away from another soul, that could be you...

God bless,
Brandon Nagley

And then
In a single moment
You were the oxygen I breathe
I found it hard to believe
That I might die without your touch
Just your presence and your scent
Was more than enough
But a tiny drop of your love
Could never be too much

I want something that I cannot have. I cannot have it because I don't truly know what it is. I've seen it polished and propped as if it were on display and I've heard the stories of how much time and effort it took to make it look as such. But I want it. I want love. I want the idea of it at least.
I want the fights brought about by events simpler and less important than the time we wasted to have them. I want to be pained by the sight of her pain and know that the feeling of knives piercing my chest when I see her cry is there because I would literally drive them there myself, if only to prevent her tears.
I want our laughs to intertwine over the smallest things and our conversations to stretch our minds over the biggest. I want to see you sleep at night and I'll smile because I know that you're finally at peace. And I want you to smile when you wake up because you know that I'm fighting to make your reality better than your dreams.
I want love. I want romantic love, I want crazy love. I want passion. I want to pick you up in my arms and in that brief present get lost in your presence. I want to be in you when I am in you and have you wish that I would stay forever. I want to be in your heart and mind, and I want our love to be torturous and blind.
I just want love. I want the idea of it at least.