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Jan 24 · 319
Self-Titled
Jay Jan 24
Yo,
Yeah you,
Brother, best friend.

I'm doing just fine.

I'm tending to those curls my mother gave me
And yeah, honey, I can still rhyme.

You can call me daddy
Actually, call me sir
But nothing will ever compare you to her.

Yeah.
We was cool.
Totally.
I didn't care that he was on your phone.
Not even on your mind.
I just want you to know it hurt when you lied.

At least a thousand times.

But it's cool, little one,
Cuz so did I.

I just hope he appreciates that miracle on your thigh.

Spit in my face.
Whatever, it's easy to see u don care.

But sincerely, cute thing.
Love gets you nowhere.

Tell the world-
The ******* Galaxy for all I care.

But when I needed a real woman;
My person,
You weren't there.

If you think that I care who you're *******,

You're wrong,
As long as I'm still walking art
*******

I'm strong.
Oct 2018 · 210
Camouflage
Jay Oct 2018
Is it any wonder that black cats
perch on pale shingles
or that the moon returns each
evening against a stark navy sky

What’s it like to be the center of attention?

I exist only in shadows
and bloom viciously
against the wall at parties.
A secret garden.

Poisonous frogs
stick out like candy against
forests of green.
They dare to be noticed as
unapologetic warnings.

If only I could feel the spotlight
burn a hole through my lonely chest
just once. Like rays of sun
that exist just for my well being.

How does it feel to be someplace you don’t belong?

Cancer grows
multiplies
splits apart, doubled over
a thousand times
with little regard for it’s unwelcomed
stay.
Fearless.

I spiral down vacant bottles
only to shatter through the bottom of each one
in the hunt for genuine human connection.
An insecurity that is nothing but confident in itself.
I crave to be noticed.

Is it any wonder that black cats
perch on pale shingles?
Oct 2018 · 453
Too Much to Say
Jay Oct 2018
I'm in the mood
to press you

coffee
bitter sweet
chocolate drizzle
whipped cream.
Savory on your tongue.

Too bad I'm out of filters.

The steam warms my lungs.
A fresh breath of you starves off the cold. You speak and words spill out of your mouth like a ******* messiah. I grasp the chalice of your lips and swill the infinity of combination between my teeth. Twenty-six letters taste like gold. Milk and honey. Christmas Dinner. The thought of fingers burning poetry against my skin makes me sweat.

It's fall. Big surprise I'm thinking of you.
When the leaves tremble in winds that sting. I imagine you doing the same and I'm seduced by the thought. It would be so nice to know the veins of your form. To feel your fragility in intimate terms. To fold you over between the pads of my fingers- find your weak spots. Lines plowed in skin from desperate fingernails leave trenches perfect for warfare. I turn you up from your clavicles to your ankles.

Maybe it doesn't have to be so violent.
Maybe it can just be cold
and we can enjoy the intimacy
of a night on the porch
with a big blanket.

We'll strip down
naked
to our souls.

You can sit in my lap
and I can swim in your eyes
while we both manage
to stay warm under the stars
and the comfort
of
twenty-six
letters.
Aug 2018 · 332
Simple Language
Jay Aug 2018
I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.
Jay Aug 2018
Skin on skin is nice isn't it?
Jul 2018 · 769
Small Collected Memories
Jay Jul 2018
Would it be better
if I hid everything
underneath a metaphor or simile?

Like thick suffocating blankets
that muffle my true meaning and stamp out light,
leaving you clutching at wisps
of air-
untangling what I'm trying to say?

Would it be best if I told you the truth
and said that you use your hair effectively
as a weapon?
A cluster of ever-changing colored swirls
where I can spiral into my own personal
hell.

Your arms
are millions and millions
of jellyfish-
soft, passive, dangerous.
Inviting.
I've never wanted to be cradled more.

Do you want me to promise
that I still think about the cataclysmic
infinity of your emerald eyes?
A Garden of Eden.
If I believed in God,
I'd say Adam and Eve took comfort
within them. And just like Adam and Eve,
realize what it feels like to be cast out.
When love became punishment.
When rules were broken.
When there was nothing left to feel
but loneliness and shame.
Jul 2018 · 750
Knees
Jay Jul 2018
God,
Just show me you're real.

I'm so tired of
you thinking that just being
a body is enough.

Show me something
meaningful.

It's easy to swipe right.
It's easy to say things you don't
mean to say.

It's obviously easy to say,
"I love you."

It's easier not to say anything at all.

Individuality.

I'm meaningless.
And so are you.

A construct of circumstance.
Biology.
Human nature.

Thank you for your lessons.
I hope somebody proves me wrong.
Jul 2018 · 326
Blue in the Face
Jay Jul 2018
I thought about
pulling my car into the garage
putting the dog outside
and breathing in the fumes
of our past
until there was nothing left
except my lungs constricting
around faulty ideals and notions
about us
and what love really means.
Jul 2018 · 230
Yes, I'm a real person.
Jay Jul 2018
I want to tell you how much I hate you
But really, I can't-
I love you too much.
And in the end,
of all of the lessons you've ever taught me,
It's that words don't really matter.
Nothing I ever did mattered.
Art fades.
Words are empty.
Promises are meaningless.
I hope he makes you *** more than I ever could.
I hope he buys you flowers more than once a month.
I hope he gets you farther away from this town
where dreams die
than you could have ever hoped for.
I hope you call him handsome
and that you think he's pretty.
Like I had to beg for.
I hope the only thing bigger than his member
is his bank account.
I hope he calls you exactly when you need him to
not always
like I used to do.
I hope you never block him out
and give him the love that you're truly capable of.
Because I never got it.
I hope you heal his wounds and
kiss him while he's asleep in your arms
because there's no place you'd rather be.
I hope that you feel the way about him
that I used to feel about you.
I hope he calls you his princess,
his dolly,
his 3 a.m.
I hope you scream "daddy"
into the blackness of your trash bag
darkened basement.
The one you used to lock me in and complain
that we never did anything.
I hope you give him all of the truths
you weren't willing to give me;
and that you mean them.
I hope you never get your heart broken.

I so much want for you to have someone
that doesn't have any responsibilities
other than you.
Because you need someone
that doesn't have lifelong friends
or a connection with their family
or worries about whether or not thier
future will be brighter than their past.
I hope he picks out a favorite freckle.
And I hope it's not the same one as me.
And if it is, I want him to love it more than I ever did.
When you argue,
which you will,
because that's who you are,
I hope he knows how to accept your anger.
Your hurt.
Your torment

and unhappiness.

The way I might have
if I was a stronger or smarter man.
The way way I do now that you're gone.

I was never your number one.
You were.
And that's what's important
in a world full of people trying to hurt you.

I've had nightmares
every single ******* night
since I lost you.
But those are not half as bad
as the good dreams my brain likes to create
to play tricks on me-
where 'forevers' meant something
and nothing mattered but each other.

Yeah, I'm a natural-born ******* loser.
I'm fat,
crying,
and screaming.
A *******-born child
to a family that didn't want me
except for one.

When you told me you cared
that you wanted to kiss me,
**** me,
love me,
while your boyfriend was
in another town
and I believed you-
that was my first mistake.

Because you can't really love
two people at once,
especially when the only person you've ever really loved is you.

Either way.
I hope you get what you need.
Because my mind
heart
body
and
stupid pitiful
******* soul
was never enough.
And it never will be.

How many more until you're full?

I hope you find the one
that wasn't me.
And that he can buy you
that house in California
on the beach.
The one with the white picket fence.
Far from yourself
and everything you've ever known.
You took from me everything that you could steal.
Four ******* years of meaningless torture
words
and
abuse.
Apr 2018 · 1.5k
The Best Kiss I've Ever Had
Jay Apr 2018
I'm fixated on keeping my mouth busy.
Sticks of gum leave their packs like cigarettes.
An addiction.

I peel the skin from my lips
with pearlescent spades
and think about
softer edges

Your mouth
Like snow on Christmas Eve.

You taste like spiced wine
and wear ribbons of black liquorice.
Nuzzled in your neck-
I breathe cool peppermint.

We collide as galaxies.
I become clay

Your delicate hands
slide across my form
as I bend and sway
at the mercy
of your creation.
Apr 2018 · 207
The Good Kind of Pain
Jay Apr 2018
You know the way it feels when your lip busts open?
Yeah.
That's you.




Tounge swollen.
Sep 2017 · 659
Unread
Jay Sep 2017
I press your spine against the desk and
break
you
apart.
I hear you crack.
Words spill
into empty air.
They pool at my feet.
Meaningless.
I rifle through your pages.

They quiver like autumn leaves.

I practically
beg
for them to crumble into dust
between my
fingertips
as I leave you.
Bare.
Empty.
Naked.
Between the covers.
Aug 2017 · 900
Un-untitled
Jay Aug 2017
I need words that don't reflect myself.

Words that aren't empty.

Words that make you feel something.
Aug 2017 · 288
Are you okay?
Jay Aug 2017
I want to tear through my own ribs and just ******* scream.
Aug 2017 · 268
Gone.
Jay Aug 2017
My passion escaped on the wheeze of your dying lips.
Does anybody have any tips for becoming inspired?
I just haven't been able to write for what feels like a long time.
Aug 2017 · 234
Twenty-Somethings
Jay Aug 2017
Nobody tells you
that things will change so much.
And maybe if they did,
you probably chose not to hear it.
And when you're aging
and the world feels empty
and distant,
you realize what it all means.
You realize that some of your friends
that would be there forever
really won't be.
That maybe you're not who you thought you were.
That maybe you've settled.
That maybe all there is to the world is the daily grind
of twenty-four hours and
the solitude
of an unwaivering schedule.
Aug 2017 · 361
Constellations
Jay Aug 2017
Oh wow
You're like a summer breeze
         nonexistent
hot
dry
vivid
    I can't look at you
you burn brighter
I hide inside
to stay cool
cold
buried
Arizona sunrise
Alaskan sunset
Stars dance
painfully distant
too close
  Pools form in your eyes
galaxies
  
I swim in the empty spaces
Aug 2017 · 187
This poem is
Jul 2017 · 199
Unnatural Not to Cry
Jay Jul 2017
Freaked out like I usually do.
Told her I'd be better
apologized for being a **** up

she told me to stop throwing a pity party
she said she's done with that *******
It feels unnatural to not live in melancholy
Jay May 2017
Every poet needs a muse.

I have never forgotten.
Have you? Even once?

As I let you slip through the cracks? I wouldn't blame you if you did.
But I know that you haven't.

It's funny. Talking about distance.
because in spite of it all,
nobody has touched me like you.

Do you still feel it sometimes? Do you still feel like visiting me in my dreams? Or when I'm on top of the mountains, sipping in the beauty of the world? The need to inspire? Inspiration itself.

I do. Constantly.
It's everything I've ever wanted. The loveliest thing I've ever known.

The way you manage to make words come alive. Like air. The way you could make them dance into my lungs and rush into my bloodstream
always leaves me craving more. Addicted.

I'm at the mercy of your language.
Your fingers.
Your smile.

Your words are eternal. Taken as scripture. I bow to them every day. Praise them. Share them. Let them complete me. Give me purpose.
Reflected in pale moonlight and written in the stars.

As I look up, into the infinity of darkness,
and see the words you left there,
I am left speechless.

I mean it too. That I fell. Hard. Impossibly.

We ended quickly. Abruptly. A car accident. An exchange of information. Words hurt, but wounds heal.

I know you've continued on. Effortlessly. Gracefully as you do.
But every single night, I still go to bed, with the desire of making love with our words. Tasting your syllables. Drinking them in. I long for a touch I haven't felt since you. In every conceivable way.

I shouldn't have left. I should have begged you to stay. I would have loved a little more time with you.

I'd wait forever for it.

Maybe you shouldn't, but muses don't work that way.
There's nothing more heartbreaking than a poet without a muse.
A sky without stars.
A page without words.

I'm selfish in wanting your presence.
Your poetry.
It's cruel of me to desire something so deeply.

But nothing could be better
than knowing that
there was a little infinity
where I captured your heart
felt your soul
connected with you
and became a muse
myself.

A dream come true.
We could have blossomed into something breathtaking.

Would it be terrible if I said I think of you always?
This is still for you.
May 2017 · 1.3k
Declarations 1: Loss
Jay May 2017
I love the way that you can still always manage to write perfect circles
around me.

My words feel so small. Insignificant. When I want to write you back.
Falling short out of my lips. Hanging disappointingly in the air.

Maybe this time will be different. Maybe if I shout it
like I want to. Maybe if I make a declaration-
my words can stand next to yours.

I feel the same way.

I want your answers. I want your intimate details. I want to trace your skin over, and over. I want to feel the curve of your spine
and the curve of your lips
and your fingers as they curve around mine.

I want to savor the feeling
of words pressed against you. Hot, lost, unobtainable desire.
My greatest vice is not ink on paper.
It's the canvass of your soul and skin.

That's what I've always loved about you. Poetry in motion.
Definitely a unique love. It is not like loving a poet. It's loving: living,
breathing, words. It's knowing them by heart. The way you dance through vibrations cast in the air. The way I know that you are a poem all yourself. The closest thing to religion I've ever felt. Reading you- cover to cover. Discovering your words.

Maybe that's the most disappointing part. I'm lying.
I haven't read you cover to cover. I know I barely got past the introduction. There's something deeper within you that I crave to know.
Desperately.
Something that I'm afraid I'll never know. The best thing I've ever read. Left unfinished.

I guess I don't deserve to know something so wonderful. Maybe that's the limitations of an earthly body. Where I don't get to know you because I was lost- a victim of distance and a slave to circumstance. Taken by life. Taken by being busy. Taken away without really understanding why.

I'd give anything to sit down intimately with you
and devote all of my time
savoring all of your words,
counting all your pages,
loving each one,
until I could close the spine,
only to turn you over,
and start all over again.
Even if those words weren't mine...
May 2017 · 261
Another Date
Jay May 2017
You move me like nobody else can,
or has,
still.

It's hard for me to tell,
because sometimes I think that I tend to
force circumstances to make things about me-
but I hope that those words were meant to be mine.
Can I tell you everything?
Or do you not want that?
Can I show you my heart one more time?
Can we get intimate with our words?
Lay letters like rose petals?
I need to know.
Were those words for me?
Or would it be easier,
if I held back
and watched you slip away
between the syllables
and dreams
you occupy
within my space?
May 2017 · 1.2k
Engaged
Jay May 2017
You're right. It wasn't yours.
They're just words
written on an idle Tuesday
and I need you
to leave me
alone.
We can never speak.
My heart belongs
entirely
to someone else.
I'm completely serious.
May 2017 · 1.2k
Learning to Love the Summer
Jay May 2017
Maybe this doesn't matter at all
Especially because the way I may have treated you,
and maybe you'll never even see this,
but if you do,
I think that you should know some things.
I beat myself up a lot.
Fully responsible for the pain that you endured.
I think about you
outside
in the rain
in the gutter.
I notice you. Constantly.
In the back of my mind.
Something completely beautiful.
There's something gorgeous about the way the rain hides your tears.
About the way you look with wet hair.
I constantly want to go outside
and bring you in
and make you soup
and cocoa
and tea.
I want to help you get undressed
and dry you off,
changing into something,
soft and warm.
Safe.
I'll wrap you in a towel
and wrap you in my arms.
Tracing your figure gently,
like the road going home.
We'll construct a blanket fort.
And it'll be our secret castle.
Away from the world.
I see you shrinking.
I know that you are.
But maybe we could shrink down together
and make our fort an entire estate;
where I can make a memory with you
in each achre.
And when it gets cold,
we can scrimp and save,
and rent a dollhouse
for our summer home.
You wont have to worry
about other people seeing you sweat.
We'll close the blinds and draw the curtains
and stay naked-
vulnerable.
A place of our own creation.
You and me.
I think about the things we shared.
The late nights.
The secrets.
I always wonder how you are.
I long for you.
I crave your words like I crave
the nicotine, or the alchohol, or the abuse
that I need in order to
keep my thoughts off of you.
Sometimes I still think about it
because I'm crazy
and unfair-
jumping on a plane, I mean-
to expect you to be waiting for me on the other side.
I think about you all the time. Whether you believe me or not.
Or whatever you choose.
I dwell on you. I haven't stopped.
Like a near death experience.
The only thing that's ever really made me feel alive.
Completely whole.
******* I think about  you all the time.
Forbidden fruit. Something I shouldn't be reaching out for.
I want to dress your wounds.
Take care of you when you fall.
Douse you in antiseptic
wrap your bandages
and seal each cut with a kiss.
I haven't stopped thinking about you at all.
There is something about the way your heart makes my heart flutter.
And the way your soul speaks beautiful perfect poetry to mine.
I'd also be a liar if I said I didn't think about staring into your eyes, or the way you smell like lilacs and honey, or the peaches and cream of your skin.
My favorite dessert.
Something that I indulge in.
I want to taste you.
Every last drop.
Warm saltwater
lemon juice,
birthday cake
life giving nectar.
I've held my lips against a rose petal,
unconsciously,
wishing it were you.
Dying for the real thing.
I miss your voice. A sweet song.
Deep lulliby.
The most humbling thing I've ever heard.
Thunder
the roar of the ocean
harsh winds
butterfly wings
bubbling brooks
gentle rains.
Perfection.
I long for you with my whole being,
and whether it means anything to you or not,
I still thought that you should know.
I mean every word. You know who you are.
I'm so sorry for everything. Even if we never speak again, know that I am sorry.
Mar 2017 · 677
Sea Legs
Jay Mar 2017
I cradled myself in thoughts of you to keep me safe.
Now I lay cradled in the arms of another empty night.
Reveling in your silence.
Wrapped up in abandoned promises.
Lost in your words.
I love how close you are to the distance.
As if I could slip away
and fall between the cracks of the mattress and bed frame,
only to be turned over and over again in the ripples of the sheets-
pushed away by your tireless storm.
I cling to the reminence of what used to be a sturdy ship.
Now just a board of something that once was.
A distant memory.
A hope
that maybe these broken pieces can bring me to your shore.
I probably won't drown.
Mar 2017 · 531
Shifting
Jay Mar 2017
All I wanted was you
For years
I waited
Wanting
and Wishing
You'd make me full.
What I found out is that
the only love that I needed
was my own.
When all a person does is give
it can leave one feeling empty
exhausted
and more lonely
than before.
Draining
Dec 2016 · 739
It Finally Snowed
Jay Dec 2016
Something about this winter seems colder than ever.
Late.
Sudden.
All at once.
It's the type of cold I haven't felt in a long time. Lingering.
Something you can't get rid of.
A breath of fog in the air.
Old memories.
Air that replenishes you. Making things new.
Air you don't mind suffering for.
Chilled to the bone.
Fingers numb. Toes nonexistent.
But sometimes still, I stand on my porch, cold, dreaming of blankets, and cocoa, and you.
Snow falls on my skin. Chilling. A reminder of how cold it really is, and I have to pretend that you didn't cross my mind.
It's freezing.
Oct 2016 · 611
One.
Jay Oct 2016
I still write you love letters.
Love letters to your ghost.
Somebody that I might have known once
but view only as a stranger in a crowd of familiar faces.
I still write these love letters for nobody.
All about you.
The nothingness.
The emptiness.
An untitled painting.
An overused quote.
Unattributed.
Maybe I still write about the girl that I fell in love with in the sixth grade.
Or maybe I still write about the girl I cried about in high school.
Or maybe I'm writing about a girl that shares miles between me in the same bed.
Some small thing with fiery hair. No. Maybe brunette.
Tall. Definitely. Thighs and an ***.
Tired eyes. Green.
No. Brown.
I'm still writing about you.
A love letter for somebody that cares.
Somebody that realizes my words are all I have.
That doesn't brush them away.
Annoying. A crowd of gnats.
My words are for you.
For whomever will take them.
Mar 2016 · 495
Late Night Lust
Jay Mar 2016
I'm drunk and all I can think about is you.
God, you're perfect.
I love your hair and your eyes and your skin.
I love the way you make me feel.
I want to hold you so close and never let you go.
You're so ****.
So wonderful.
I love your soul and your heart.
I think about you all the ******* time.
I want you naked.
I want you in my bed and I want to ******* hard.
I want you to tell me you love me.
I want you to treat me better than I'm being treated.
I want to feel something other than monotony for once.
I want you to hold my hand while we look at the stars.
Just tell me you love me. Tell me you want me. Lie to me.
For ****'s sake please lie to me.
You make me whole.
You make me happy.
I want you more than anything. You're my missing piece. My other half.
I need you and you don't know I exist.
I want to breathe you in. I want you held in my lungs. I want you to grow stale there. I want you to choke me.
I want to run away. Let's go on the road together. You and me. A little car. Sleeping with the moon. Skin against skin.
Show me yours and I'll show you mine.
Kiss me like it's wrong. Like you're 16 again and your parents could walk in at any minute. ****! I want you.  *******,  I want you.
You're my life and you don't even know I exist.
Look at me and let go.
Mar 2016 · 732
Souls Like Fog
Jay Mar 2016
You walk in and the room falls silent-
Everything hushed by the presence of you.
My soul
suddenly awakened-
full.
I don't remember the last time
I felt my being ache with hunger.
There's something about you.
Something in the way you move
Like I've known you forever.
Greeting an old friend;
Missing an old lover.
Maybe we've met before.
There's an unknown comfort about you.
Soft.
Radiant.
Ancient memories.
Do you feel it too?

The hush of the world.
Mar 2016 · 346
All I See
Jay Mar 2016
Ash falls delicately across the landscape-
pure as snow.
As I wonder what it's like
to be held in secret.
Longing to be one of your secrets.
Mar 2016 · 349
Whispers
Jay Mar 2016
You're graceful
And I know that you say that your shower
curtain is your biggest fan,
but I think I'm slowly becoming
your biggest fan instead.
I bet your voice reflects your soul-
dark
mysterious
tinted glass.
I wrap myself up at night
with thoughts of you.
And maybe I shouldn't be saying this,
but some things are too hopeless
to not be expressed.
You are beautiful in your everyday way of being.
Your language and expression
are artistic,
poetic-
breathtaking;
and I often catch myself thinking of you.
Even when I'm fairly certain,
you're not thinking of me.
I bet the dark countryside is jealous
of your enrapturing beauty,
and I'm sure that when I'm looking at the moon,
I can feel the presence of your soul.
I wait until the sun rises, and I bask in its warmth,
to remind me of the way
you make me feel.
Mar 2016 · 321
Same Soul
Jay Mar 2016
It's like I've known you my whole life.
I can feel your soul,
and when you are next to me
the moment seems incredibly
intense.
Do you feel it?
Maybe.
Mar 2016 · 612
I Hope You Know
Jay Mar 2016
I still think about you all the time-
your perfect features and graceful soul.
Your absence and emptiness
leaves me full.
Mar 2016 · 480
Starving Artist
Jay Mar 2016
Your words trickle smoothly
through the emptiness
of a 2 o'clock evening.
I savor each word;
a drop of honey,
smooth jazz.
Neither as sweet
or soothingly cool
as you.

A craving.
Another cigarette
held gingerly between
*******,
two lips.
You dance like smoke.
Mystery.  

An aura of beauty
cascades around your entire being.
Your hair falls as refreshingly as rain,
and your eyes are soft blankets that
I can feel my soul curl up with.

Your presence is bewildering.


Another hopeless romance.
There's some unfamiliar comfort about you.
Mar 2016 · 288
Small Things
Jay Mar 2016
I really just wish
I had somebody to talk to.
Mar 2016 · 686
Practiced.
Jay Mar 2016
I think about your skin pressed against mine
and how I'm sure it would feel like an ******.
You wreak of *** and
I bet those lips taste of blood.
Mar 2016 · 281
Empty Room
Jay Mar 2016
Meaningless words
float like stale smoke
in the stagnant atmosphere
of the space between us.
Mar 2016 · 246
Empty Pack
Jay Mar 2016
Aching for a cigarette and meaningful human contact.
Mar 2016 · 509
Nature Herself
Jay Mar 2016
So, I just want you to know
that you're actually on my mind a lot lately.
I eagerly await to hear from you,
even when I'm sure I won't.
You really brighten my day
and I love hearing about everything
going on in your life.
You are my favorite thing.
You're the sunset.
You're my morning coffee.
You're my final dreaming thoughts.
You're thin mountain air.
The warmth of Spring.
My favorite poem.
My favorite work of art.
I want to drink you in,
breathe your air,
feel your beauty.
I'd die to trace the outline of your face,
knowing I could never get the lines right.
I am reminded of you every time
I wish it would rain- but it doesn't.
You are lovely.
I just want you to know,
each time I feel a breeze caress my cheek
and swirl around my figure,
I am reminded of your gentleness,
and the way it reflects your
loving nature.
And if you were a song,
I'd dance with you until the early morning,
wishing your melody would never end.
You are the soft warmth of old vinyl-
and there's not a thing on earth
that doesn't reflect your natural way of being.
I'll think of you again tonight.
Mar 2016 · 731
Another Lonely Camping Trip
Jay Mar 2016
I'd love to curl up with you tonight.
Feel you next to me.
Learn the pattern of your breaths.
I'd love to cuddle up in a blanket and watch
the sun dip lazily behind the mountains,
the golden rays reflecting your soul,
the breeze playing with your hair.
I want you to tell me the meaning behind each tattoo
and talk late into the night about life's important things.
I want to fall back, and look at the stars,
and as I look over at you, wonder how you're not up there with them.
Fingers interlocked,
souls dancing under receding moonlight.
Your presence, reflecting the world.
I'll have to dream of you instead,
Feb 2016 · 331
Unfair Advantage
Jay Feb 2016
How can somebody be as beautiful as the poems they write?
I have no idea, but **** you do it well.
Feb 2016 · 552
Sleep Tight
Jay Feb 2016
Tonight the only words I can think of are, 'Goodnight, you lovely thing.'
I hope you can feel me reaching out to you in your dreams.
Feb 2016 · 487
I'm Saying it Anyway
Jay Feb 2016
I enjoyed our conversation last night, and
it's funny how somebody can come out of nowhere and
make a small difference in your life.
And so, I fell asleep with you by my side,
in a roundabout way.
You came to me in my dreams
like a ghost,
soft,
slow,
almost nonexistent.
I didn't know that it was you, until you spoke
in perfect prose and poetry.
You radiate life.
I'm inspired by your words,
and maybe that's why I thought about you today,
even though I maybe shouldn't.
And with each long drag of my cigarette,
I took in deep breaths of you,
and let you linger in my lungs,
flow through my blood,
and rest gently on my mind.
You're attractive
in a profound away.
I know that maybe I shouldn't say too much,
or really let you know that I'm thinking of you,
but, I'm *****, and there's something about a girl
that writes poetry,
that makes me incredibly weak.
Feb 2016 · 307
Silence.
Jay Feb 2016
Some rules are meant to be broken.
As a matter of fact, I'd like that very much.
Mystery makes for anticipation.
Feb 2016 · 878
Favorite Poem
Jay Feb 2016
Oh, hello lovely thing.
I want you to know that every time I close my eyes
I think of you
and I imagine your words are whispered to me
through each gentle breeze.
I can picture your gorgeous face,
and deep, sad eyes,
and I can see you're the most beautiful poem
ever written.
And every time I read your lines,
I linger on every word,
for I am truly overwhelmed by you.
There's never been a poem like you
and I suppose that's why
I cannot get you
off my mind.
I really admire the poetry that you are. The way you radiate it is beautiful.
Your hair, your eyes, a jawline to die for, soft curves, a perfect nose, are all written elegantly. The way you're so deep, wise, caring, sweet, and simply wonderful are some of the most fantastic lines I have ever read.
Feb 2016 · 624
Crossing
Jay Feb 2016
I shouldn't be telling you
that I think you're beautiful,
or that I think of you more often than I would like to admit.
And I shouldn't tell you that I must have read every single line 500 times.
I shouldn't say that I think you're perfect,
or that you make my heart flutter.
I shouldn't let you know that I look forward to seeing your name in my inbox.
I shouldn't say that I have never seen anybody radiate grace quite the way you do.
I shouldn't tell you that I fell asleep last night,
thinking of you.
I shouldn't cross your boundaries.
Feb 2016 · 781
The Right Words.
Jay Feb 2016
It's amazing how much you can miss a stranger.
It's amazing how much you wish you could hear their words.
Longing?

Maybe that isn't the right word.

You can admire a face
A perfect slender nose
Soft eyes that have seen more than you could ever imagine
Windows showing deep sadness-
A sweetness
She reflects your soul.

You might not know where they come from
Or where they are now
Or even their full name
But you know you enjoy their presence in your life, no matter how brief
Their words
Their stories
Their poems

It makes you feel full.
You can tell that she's wonderful,
elegant,
real,
infinitely deep.

And you're left,

longing...

between midnight and 3am.


But then again, maybe that's not the right word.
Feb 2016 · 590
BDSM
Jay Feb 2016
I love the way you stare at me blankly from behind your coffee.
You take slow, painstaking sips...
It suggests exciting ***.
I love the way you sensuously lick your lips,
every time you put the cup down.
I love the way you're not flirting with me.  
I love that you tell me your **** looks amazing in those leggings.

I know.  

I love the way you say my name-
distantly,
boringly,
disinterestedly.
Your mind a million miles away, on another man-
You tell me how nice his **** is.
I smirk and tell you I'm glad that we're friends.


You're a special kind of torture.
Feb 2016 · 2.5k
Strawberries
Jay Feb 2016
I bet she tastes like strawberries, and I'm jealous that you get to savor her every time you close your eyes.
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