Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Mar 2017 jg
Gidgette
But A Dream
 Mar 2017 jg
Gidgette
So high above me
I'm so low
I stopped time for him once
He doesn't even know

He lives in the mountains, now
His music, in the trees
Plucked softly by his fingers
Carried on the breeze

His hair, the sun
Eyes, the sky
He probly thinks I'm a freak
That, I can't deny

I long for him,
Like the sea longs for sand
I want to be his "tiny dancer"
Spin in his hand

And I, row, row, row, my boat
Gently down His stream
Crying, crying, crying, Because
This is but a dream
Sappy. I know.
 Mar 2017 jg
Gidgette
Rust
 Mar 2017 jg
Gidgette
I need a bleach bath in some boiling water
Scrub me down with brillo and lye
Degerm,
Sanitize

Im ***** from the inside out
Tainted
Painted
Alienated

Whiskey won't drown it out
If I'm supposed to whisper,
Hell, I'll shout

I've got problems, honey
I'm the goodbye girl
Not a taboo saved from my actions
I deal in nightmares
Whole, not fractions

Acid, can't touch my rust

I need a bleach bath in boiling water
Scrub me down with brillo and lye
Degerm,
Sanitize
 Mar 2017 jg
Eric W
Living
 Mar 2017 jg
Eric W
The smell of an old and cheap,
but priceless guitar,
the acrid and dry aftertaste of
beer, lingering
with a sour smell of
ink,
chances missed, and opportunities
lost,
in a mind of memory
where the air grows wet,
and the season
begins its change,
there are times like these
and others
that will be missed and
put upon when similar
elements meet,
the dance consumes our bodies
as our bodies
flay open to deteriorate
and regenerate the lives
after,
and we say,
"Today.
I will live today."
 Mar 2017 jg
Eric W
Greed
 Mar 2017 jg
Eric W
What do I desire?
A fundamental question.
Like asking what must
I be a slave to?
Music and the live crowd?
Finances and independence?
Knowledge and the books?
Words and the ink?
With many passions,
it is hard to choose.
And I must ask myself,
do I have to settle?
Why can I not have it all?
 Mar 2017 jg
Hiba Mohammed Sobh
A crescent moon

glows white

with

It's angelic

halo through

a shroud of

dark clouds,

soulmates

within the

shower of the

pouring rain,

love

Is the only

true sense

that's felt

when the

desert

Is misted

In dunes, when

the souls begin to feel

the depths of warmth

and the monsoon revives

the barren sands, and all

Is paradise.
Next page