Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Aug 2014 Katy Laurel
nivek
I sought a small space called quiet
and silence found me
wrapped me up with comfort
held me gently with the strength of a mountain
healed all the way through me
loved me as a child
married me like a spouse
rejoiced and danced
carried me into eternity
 Aug 2014 Katy Laurel
Josh Bass
The heat of the mornings are
slowly being replaced by autumn's approaching coolness
It looks like another summer for the books
It is harder to make memories now

Those forever days
Hours spent at the pool
Surviving off of Goldfish and cookie sleeves
While hair went blonde and skin went brown
The paradoxical AC freezing the skin off of your bones
But you can't retreat to your blanket without preparing yourself
for dinner

Those endless hours spent alone or with company
Doing everything and nothing
A place where Kokapeli's pizza still exists
Or experiencing that fender ****** as a witness
The girl gets out to check the damage
She is wearing only a bikini
I felt like I was in an Updike story
Only in the summer
#summer
Staring at you from the corner of my eye
There are hundreds seated here
Still my vision strays across the line
These feelings can't be right

It's like the moon falling in love with the sun
though they are a team, they can never be one
Love can't be my might
These feelings can't be right

Why are you so scared to look me in the eye?
I hate it when she looks at you with expectancy in her eyes
I feel like destroying the worlds for you
These feelings can't be right

I know that I'm alone in this street
Every part of myself I have left behind
Because I know that mystery will always love darkness
Though sunshine will be right by her side
My wishes just seem so "Unright"
I face the truth again -
These feelings can't be right

Now-a-days I stay away from you
When you don't look at me, that is when I look at you
When you don't hear me, I have said a thousand times
' I love you '
These feelings can't be right

Every morning when I open my eyes
And Sunshine strikes this porcelain skin from the skies
A carnage of hope is all I visualize
I roll down my sleeves to cover the scars
My reflection whispers to me
'The mirror never lies'
These feelings aren't right

I wish I'd be able to stand in front of you
And express what I exactly feel about you
But I cannot set forth in that venture
" The way is suspicious, the result uncertain, perhaps destructive."
And if you ever know about this side of me
The only thing that will come out of you will be
" These feelings can't be right "

Beyond the precincts of his eyes
Everything seems to be delusional
his eyes have the power my foes could **** for
- to rip my soul apart every minute
Every second of my life
And I'm reminded again-
These feelings can't be right

But now that I've realized
These feelings can't be right
I am sure
That today is the first day of the rest of my life ...
Hear me say || Let today be the first day of the rest of your life
Memory of sun seeps from the heart.
Grass grows yellower.
Faintly if at all the early snowflakes
Hover, hover.

Water becoming ice is slowing in
The narrow channels.
Nothing at all will happen here again,
Will ever happen.

Against the sky the willow spreads a fan
The silk's torn off.
Maybe it's better I did not become
Your wife.

Memory of sun seeps from the heart.
What is it? -- Dark?
Perhaps! Winter will have occupied us
In the night.
 Aug 2014 Katy Laurel
lX0st
The rips in my sweater
Are a metaphor
For the way your cold hands
Still keep me warm,
And your glittering eyes
After 5 glasses
Are the reason I've diagnosed myself
With insomnia.
Your lips part like the clouds
And expose my soul
To the warmth of your chest
And I actually struggle to breathe
When you say my name
But I can't think of a better way to die.
Death seems to be the omnipresent topic of the week (sorry).
ACROSS the flat and the pastel snow
Two people go . . . . 'And do you remember
When last we wandered this shore?' . . . 'Ah no!
For it is cold-hearted December.'
'Dead, the leaves that like *****'s ears hung on the trees
When last we wandered and squandered joy here;
Now Midas your husband will listen for these
Whispers--these tears for joy's bier.'
And as they walk, they seem tall pagodas;
And all the ropes let down from the cloud
Ring the hard cold bell-buds upon the trees--codas
Of overtones, ecstasies, grown for love's shroud
Next page