is ju,st an exc:us:e
to a"voi"d using
punct. u.at!on
cor. rect.
ly

;)

my rhyme schemes
are often best
to be replaced
because you
can't hear me croon
in the afternoon
as I type out my feelings
alone in my room.

there is a world beyond the window:
to remember that the window is there
and to look out of it, is to come to the realization
that thoughts are small and actions are somewhat of a promise.

I guess
a shift,
can't
help
but
feel it.

"We're killing our bodies
while they're still capable
of being killed." -Said a teacher, said a friend.

"The only good thing you have left is yourself.
It's all a matter of the perspective you have of this
life." -Replied the other.

curiosity tainted
music's coursing wild through my veins

prelude to making love on pages

your soul opens, dark pools that flood my heart,
warm, balanced, alive and carefully sweet
(yet not too sweet,
the risk of letting go has been conquered,
  and the freedom prevails),
our dance is symmetrical as we shape into each other.

your skin teaches me how to be smooth
as the distinction between your hair
and your face fades,
just as your body and mine intertwine
until your hips are all I know and
your lips are all I see with my eyes closed.

a comfortable lack of noise apart from
the pleasure of breathing. I remember
every detail of the pounding flesh, the sweat
carving rivers on your chest, the kiss from
my neck to the breast.

I've never known a closeness such as this,
your gentle gaze has gripped my heart,
some times I want to tear it out
so as not to get overwhelmed by the beauty.

your love is art, and your expression is priceless.

I often find it difficult to hold myself back,
our love is raw, but I'd rather my ****** not be.

a jealous heart
wants no more
than to forgive.
even when there
is nothing to be
                           forgiven.

this pulsing, throbbing energy,
takes refuge where you choke.
terribly sick from the throat.
my chest is a boat, and the
drowning doesn't cease with the life jacket.
vibrant and not easily forgotten
and yet still, you seem to have forgotten
what it is like to breathe with me, or rather
my feelings escape me as soon as I achieve the ability to explain them.

I reject the first thoughts that I recognize as uncomfortable
and give them to you for further translation, yet the energy within
those very words haven't diluted before they reach you and you spit
them back as "Ego".

I cannot help myself as much as I'd like to,
yet I try.
I cannot remove the parts of myself which I see in you,
yet I try,
because of the terrible, knee in my gut feeling,
and the rejection of willingness to expend your energy to help me find happiness,
because somehow if you can make me feel intensely about any emotion,
then to you that means I am only happy when you make it so.

**** that idea.

I make myself happy, I make myself sad, I make myself whatever the hell I want to,
although I sometimes fall into feelings, (a mistake which only proves more the imperfections
of being human), and the lack of control over everything.
Yet I try to take heed and pay attention to myself and how what I do effects others.

You bring immense energy, but you are not the source of my life, my light, or my darkness.

We simply share both,
from your prism to mine
and back again.
I shine through you and make color
and you shine through me to do the same.
We help cast shadows and peek through darkness,
******* hell, my heart feels so raw that I think it forgot how to break.

A jealous heart
wants nothing
more than to forgive,
and be forgiven.

I am camille for real I'm awesome