Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Jul 2014 Michael Solc
AlanK
A year from now I’ll look back
At you and me and what we had
The endless fights will have faded,
Our struggles just clouds of memory.
The good times will shine
Casting light on my nostalgic shrine
To the long gone past.
We tried and tried and tried
To make it work.
Our failure is buried with our futility
Perhaps it does not live on
Our meek success kept alive
Not interred with the bones of our disaster.
Am I wrong to recall
Those moments of bliss amid the ruins?
They hang in the air
I pluck the fruit of our doomed love.
I can taste the sweetness now
The cool juice drips
Excites my senses
You excite my senses
Even now.
Last night I drowned in whiskey sighs
and long forgotten names.
Scenes of a life on showreel flickered
past my smoke dried eyes.
Reaping memories from curled photographs dampened by the mists of time,
harvesting my youth for sustenance against my growing years.

We stood beer-brave in tented fields
sunshine grins grimaced at *** wide eyes,
bare feet caked in ancient loam
as we danced with the joy of jesters
to a beat unheard as it carried.

We vibrant few, army booted, rainbow clothed
misunderstanding forever,
believing it was ours to keep in tattooed burlap.
While too many Floyd wrapped sunsets slowly sealed our fates.
 Jul 2014 Michael Solc
kittycat
You are but a simple constellation of thoughts in my mind;
This connection of sacrificed glances.
My heart beats for no one but you,
And disappears at the thought of telling the truth.

Tell me what I am to you,
And gently break down my spirits.
Leave me a broken hearted girl;
And let me wither away with my thoughts.
Let them be scattered away,
For I have no life in my new days.
I've given up and you are a lost cause,
Open your eyes and notice the truth;
There is no one left to worship you.
 Jul 2014 Michael Solc
kittycat
It could mean everything to me;
The way my ear rests against your heartbeat,
The way your eyes shine so bright,
And the way you take me to new heights.

Everything happens for a reason, they say;
But with everything happening to me,
My heart must've been fated;
To your messy brown hair and incomplete ways.

Could you explain this way I feel?
The way my eyes light up at the mention of your simple name;
The way my heart thumps so violently in my chest,
And the way I feel so insecure when you speak so low of me?

I am nothing of royalty;
I am nothing worth of glancing.
But you make me so mushy,
And with my horrified glances at the mirror,
Where were you when everything was clearer?
I used to need a submarine
to visit the dark depths of my soul
To where the bottom feeders feast
on the dead and feces from the shoal
A completely inhospitable, light-less,
savage, alien underworld
Where the spineless slimy sea cucumber
writhed, wriggled and curled.

Now I prefer to scuba dive my soul
or gaily use snorkel and flippers
Among a rich vivid abundance of life
Up and down the aqua big dippers
But I admit every now and then
at certain dark times of the year
I swim above that unforgiving trench
and can not hold back the tears
 Jul 2014 Michael Solc
Legion
When you see her cry
     you get a rag,
a gentle delicate cloth.
                                        Lovingly grasp her hand
                                               and dab its tip;
                                       dry each tear as they come.
                                                           ­                               And ask each drop
                                                            ­                                   why it'd leave
                                                           ­                               such beautiful eyes.

  If she wishes
to be in the sky,
  tell her to go.
                              Take the sun ransom,
                              and replace its shining
                                    with her own.
                                                            ­          So you can see her every morning
                                                         ­                          and wish for her
                                                                ­                  return each night.

When you see her scars
  both visible and non-
    touch each gently.
                                             And remind her
                                       that each and every hurt
                                            she has survived,
                                                       ­                                 has only made her
                                                                ­                   that much more unique;
                                                         ­                              that much stronger.

  Show her that she
  is a special person
and is worthy of love.
                                     That she deserves the love
                                            she fears to give...
                                            show her so that
                                                            ­                     one day after you're gone
                                                            ­                      she can find the strength
                                                                ­                    to go on without you.

    Tell her that while
she might not be a goddess
far above worldly desires,
                                          that she is amazing,
                                         for just being herself
                                    for being that beautiful girl
                                                            ­                   who thinks herself damaged
                                                         ­                         when in truth she's just
                                                            ­                    a different kind of beautiful.

   And finally, love her.
  Like a boy loves a girl
Till she finally remembers
                                            that that's what she is:
                                          not a scar, not a goddess,
                                             not a star. But a girl.
                                                           ­                         That deserves to be loved.
 Jul 2014 Michael Solc
JWolfeB
Love, well love is like a good cup of coffee

We all want to drink it without getting burnt
Next page