Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Martin Illy Mar 2016
You know how people always build homes
in the people they love?
Me being the silliest architect there could be
Built a tiny igloo in you
With little if not no certainty,

Within the bountiful depths and crevices
In your mind of a maze and icy darkness of your soul
I found a spot for myself amidst the craze,
to keep myself warm and cosy from the cold.

In this little safe haven I seek comfort in
I established a place I called my own.
My tiny space of refuge I call it,
but in it I live alone.

As loneliness kicks in
I slowly explore outside of home,
In search of a getaway retreat
Nothing too fancy, nowhere alone.

And then I realise how homesick I get
When I dwell in the heart of another
All I want to do is to return
Back into a pair of arms that wont falter.

Did I mention how I built an igloo in you and called it my home?
Igloos melt in heat
and my love, so did you.

My home no longer.
Martin Illy Aug 2014
Time with you feels like travelling through a never ending tunnel
one that brims with uncertainty and complete darkness
I never know what to expect from your pace and direction
nor do I feel the existence (any longer) of (if any) connection

I feed on the minute glimpse of sunlight that creeps ahead
Stay my love, stay with me, you plead
because you know this is a one way track
and there really is no turning back

We twist, we turn
We crash, and we burn
We crave, and we yearn
We lose, and we learn

I guess no matter where this takes us
I have you, and you, me
someday love will wrap around and blanket us instead
and our bodies will bath in the light ahead
Martin Illy Aug 2014
Today I saw you as you.
I saw everything about you.
I studied you.
I attempted to understand you.

I shift my eyes away from yours
diverting them to your ears
the ears that listened to my incessant cries
and heard my foolish fears

I move down to your mouth
which spoke to me only kind words
and also incompetently mimic the chirping
Of Abyssinian lovebirds

I scan over your honey-olive arm
and the smoothness of your skin
which, for warmth, among other things
I seek refuge in

I hung my head earthward
giving attention to your feet
the ones that brought you far and wide
just to let us meet

You call my name.
I glance back up and look you in the eye
those eyes were now blank and cold
I could not see you anymore, but I still try.
lost you
Martin Illy Jul 2014
I am but dirt in soil
I am the filth that thrives
through the contribution
of **** from dogs and mice

You, you’re a ******* flower
through the seasons of rain and shine
you grow and bloom
but no, I never called you mine

Flaunt your bright petals and floral scent
but remember that without me
you could have never grown
into someone so lovely
Martin Illy Jun 2014
Am I just another eight digits in your mobile phone?
Am I just a single thought when you’re sad and alone?
Am I just another drop of water in the shower
Or am I just that tiny piece of cake you devour?

Sometimes you make me feel like I’m all eight digits, added up.
Sometimes you make it seem like I’m all you ever think about.
Sometimes you make me rain on you with strong gushes of water
and sometimes I feel like the whole cake you devour.

But more importantly, most of the time, I am really just…….

an unfortunate another.
Martin Illy Jun 2014
why didn't you let me pull the satin strings,
that secured your cardiovascular *****?
why couldn't you expose yourself to me,
the side that no one else can see?

why didn't you undress your mind?
why didn't you undress your heart?
it's not like being naked is forbidden
but wow, it's tearing me apart

I don't think I can do this anymore,
your touch, your warmth, your words,
they come and go
like promiscuous birds.

I had feelings for you I could never explain
to anyone, or anything.
I have to go now, I have to go somewhere,
that would make my heart sing.
Next page