Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
It was night and it was cold
But all I remembered was the touch of your hands
Warmth of your embrace
The sounds of the nature
The kisses on your neck
Our lust and your love.

It was night and I was cold
But you were there
Our warmth
Our love
Our lust
Your body against mine

But then
You stopped
And stared at the window
I kissed you
And your kiss
Was never the same anymore.
:(
your smile
blew my mind
away to the sky
where i can reach all
of the stars
then hoping i'd fall
contented into your arms
feel the beating of my heart
of which you
saturated full of blood
of hopes and dreams
and maybe this time
with your hands and mine
hold a world together
through the worst and
through the better
sometimes the feelings you have for someone end up on paper instead of in their ears. hihihihi :)
the images of us being together flash through my mind.
My soul yearns to be closer to yours.
You will never know me as anything more than me,
but I will always know you as my world.
Tonight there is no moon
and the purple skyline
bleeds the color of my skin.
There is no wind.
There is no time.
There is no sin.
There is no moon.
Only those aching shades of blue,
and the ruptured veins within.
This is it...
I've fallen into something
I couldn't get myself out of.

There's no looking back
I'd be lying to myself
If I say, I'd never like you.

I might just be stuck in a coma
And dreaming this whole thing up
But my heart can't lie, I've fallen for you.

Here I go again
With unrequited love
Why do I keep punishing myself?

Falling for someone who can't be for me
Forcing something to happen
When it's an impossibility.

At night, my eyes burn
With tears of longing  to be in your arms
At night, I close my eyes and dream

Dream about the impossibility
That I could ever be for you
I hurt knowing the truth.

You push me away
Yet I keep hurting myself
Trying to hold on to the sharp end of the knife.

My demented heart, it beats for you
But you just let me be
Ignoring the fact that there could be

...a possibility...
2010
 Apr 2015 Marella Antiporda
Noxx
I wished to be with you and I wished to be free
but see they told me to only choose one
I could not see what it meant to be free
So I chose you. But choosing you
proved not so true when from your neck
your face turned blue too
Now i see, that to choose you so true
would be to choose “free” but not for me
but free for you and only you.
you deserve better than me and i cant help but be scared and im sorry and i know you loathe me for that but its me ad im sorry for me
I see you have someone else now
Does this one make you want to continue to live?
Is this one brave enough to embrace your storms and  waves?
Is comfort found in their arms, their calm
and home in their clouded thunders?
Is this someone worth the dive?
Can they escape your love?
If they can, don't let them read this.
Don't tell them know our secrets.

Eager as they are,
let them walk alone with your angry jagged pieces
Make them want to go back in time
just to experience you over and over
This one maybe better than the last
Have you told yet?

Have you told why you fall so easily
Why at the breath of your favourite words you cave in
Why being told beautiful you easily feel like a treasure
Once hidden, now unlost
Taken cared of and practically important
Why you’ve always mistaken good words with promises
And staying for one night meant forever
And crying meant dying inside
And that falling apart is part of life
Inevitable and just meant for you

(6 times in a row, wow)
Why you’ve always thought of the clichés as pieces of precious art
Only meant for you, to feel, to realize, and to kiss goodbye
Why you’ve always settled with the good enough
Thinking you’re not capable of having more
Not worthy, to be precise

**You're just standing there, staring at me with your dead eyes. You haven't, have you?
This is the second part of the long poem I wrote (part I is XLI). This is about myself, constantly stumbling upon people who are very beautiful but are apparently too cruel for my soul to handle.

10:43 PM, April 6, 2015
I'm sorry I don't paint the canvas
of our dialogues because
what is left between us are of
bittersweet memories.

And I can't be there anymore
to hold onto what is left of broken pieces
because you can't even apologize to broken plates
once you've thrown them to the wall.
Been so long since my last update. This piece was written the first month of January out of my hundred pieces I've kept.
Next page