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748 · Mar 2014
Longings
Julie Moscoso Mar 2014
I am locked inside a
room filled with photographs
of you, my feelings
stitched with this intolerable
longing of your hands intertwined
with mine. The slightest touch
and the shortest words that I've buried
beneath me have now made their
way to my heart and I just miss you
by the second.
675 · Feb 2014
Blinded
Julie Moscoso Feb 2014
But there's something behind
that calmness...
Something that I think of
every now and then.
Something that reminds me
of wildflowers and
the way I've always admired
people with beautiful spines.
Something that takes me back
to places I've been to once
and longed for right when I left.
Something that stirs inside me
when I hear all these little voices
in my head that scream
my imperfections.
Every day, without any warning,
I trip on the good things.
It's like I'm on a deserted alley
and all I could hear is my
heart pumping...
626 · Mar 2014
This boundary
Julie Moscoso Mar 2014
And we stumble
and fall and laugh
and look into
each other's eyes.
We were there on the
ground, alone and
enjoying each
other's company.
The kind of silence
there was, was beautiful
in so many ways
I couldn't explain.
It was 11:59 and I
woke up, missing you.
You were long gone,
and I haven't moved on.
517 · Mar 2014
The darkest
Julie Moscoso Mar 2014
Breathe me in,
collide with my mind,
Open your senses,
for it's clarity you will find.

Petunias like damsels,
in crimson dresses from afar.
Dancing to the wind,
hoping to be right where you are.

Silhouettes of trees
as dark as my little dreams,
Waist deep thoughts,
scattered and bursting at the seams.
Julie Moscoso Mar 2014
One day you'll wake
up, blinds shut,
closet doors swinging
open and your
lavender-scented candles
have fallen on the
floor and you sit there,
you realize how alone
you are. You close
your eyes, wishing you
were someone else
in a snap but you
broke into tears because
you knew for a fact that
things don't work that way.
399 · Feb 2014
Falter
Julie Moscoso Feb 2014
Like the smoke I gradually inhale,
I tie myself to you.
And at dawn I wail,
Wondering if you're feeling the same way too.

I gaze at the mass of stars in the sky,
Thinking of the patterns hidden in the constellation.
I sit by the porch and ask myself why;
I crave your touch and affection.

Ecstatic in the morning,
Uninterrupted waves of misery by night.
Like canoes in the sea sailing,
I constantly tell myself to hold on tight.

Through the cracks were gleams of daylight,
Connecting to the emptiness in my soul only you could cure.
You brush your hands through my hair as I squeal in delight,
Right there, I was caught up in a rapture.
386 · Feb 2014
Beneath it all
Julie Moscoso Feb 2014
The stitches of my cracked
being are creating a reflection
in my eyes like a code no one
could decipher.
Veins like branches
of a tree on winter. Weak and old,
it's dying either way.
She spoke words that kept him
awake through the night,
depriving him from what he
needed the most.
Silk-like skin and sun-bright eyes,
who knows what lies beneath?
367 · Mar 2014
Forgotten notes
Julie Moscoso Mar 2014
Find me in between your poems
and in the strokes of your paintings.
Find me in the dark woods
and in the trees I carved your name in.
Find me hiding beneath your wings
and whispering things I never should have said.
Find me walking along bridges
staring up at the sky that's turning red.
The day closes, darkness falls over.
On the pavement I sit as the night gets colder.
304 · Feb 2014
Thoughts of you
Julie Moscoso Feb 2014
It's the sun beam that
shines through my curtains
that reminds me of you.
It's the night sky that
kind of makes me
wish you were beside
me in the lawn
watching it.
It's your little
whispers that got
stuck in the lobes of my brain
that drove me mad and
it's the vague imprint
of your face on my
sheets that make me
long for every inch of
you that I tied myself
onto.

Don't let go now.
302 · Feb 2014
Pieces of me
Julie Moscoso Feb 2014
It's 2:59 am
and I love you

and when bits of me
vanish and  i can still smell
your hair on the pillow
that you slept on, your
favorite shirt hung on
my closet door,

i think i may love
you more than i did
a whole lot before.

— The End —