Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
guys with tight six packs
ride atop the wave's backs

surfing surfing surfing
in the mid morning sun
surfing surfing surfing
beach days are such fun

tunneling waves
curling nicely into shore
suntanned guys
enjoying the surf's lore

waxed boards slicing through
the topaz sea's hues
surfer guys all paving the way
to the blue waters dues

surfing surfing surfing
in the mid morning sun
surfing surfing surfing
beach days are such fun
Let me discover you from afar
Let me smile when you're not looking
Let me feel like a teenage girl learning infatuation for the first time
You are my temporary happiness
Let's see if you are my next 9th of September
See you soon! :)
I know what you are doing
After all you told me so..
accidentally
you told me without realizing

You advised my cousin to stay in her mess until she found her strength
You feel like this, us, is a mess, and well I guess I feel the same.

I thought that I needed you because ..
I just felt like I do.. did
but I don't need you
I mean
I did  ..I do

I love you,
But why does your love come with all this BS
Cheating, lying, fussing, fighting, crying..
You have no empathy for me
You hurt me and expect me to not complain

I know what you're doing

You are waiting on the right time
devising your plan to Leave
But the door is available for you now
You do not have to plot and scheme on a better way to hurt me,
You can leave in the morning
you can just leave in the morning. ..
I will always remember,
The way you held me tight,
And wished to stay the night,
But.

I hated every moment,
That you thought about,
The girl you can't live without,
Love.
The man I wrote the last one about came and visited me on his birthday, this is all I could think.
Writing about him
Is an addiction
That I convince myself
Is in remission,
But my heart knowingly
Sees through the deception.

Writing about him
Is an undying compulsion,
Just like loving him is.
Do not look at me and say,
“Goodbye.”
As our bodies pass and go
through the transparency of space.
The hushing scrape of concrete
rests in such parting words.
weighing me down with doubt.
“Goodbye.”
It sounds so final
like the last exhalation in life,
or the flutter of a paper heart
mimicking a white flag.
“Goodbye.”
It’s reminiscent of loss.
Next page