My interest in you
Was like a piece of paper
I set ablaze
One second it was there -
Then it was not
Your love for me
Was as unfortunate
As the waves
And it kept coming back
When I pushed it away

Have you been there?
The place beyond
the trees.
Someone's whisper
reached into my thoughts
drew me in
like a fish oblivious
in death
reeled by the line.
Blind faith
the present moment
food for the fish
is food for the thought.

In truth
it's false
like a mirage
the horizon
the lull before a tsunami.

It's a trap
that bit on the line
the singular idea of it
yet I saw nothing
knew nothing
I was the family at the beach
swept suddenly away by the monstrous wave
Gone.
A lull
before the end.

But have you been there?
that place
Beyond.

Listen to the whisper
let it guide you
to the end
meet me there
in my thoughts
the place
beyond the trees.
It's not the horizon
Farther, farther
waver at the edge
Your mind
beckoning the beyond
like a mirage
a mystery
the place beyond the trees.

You "love" them but you're talking to several other people. You date someone, treat them like royalty as you are seeing someone behind their back using them as a ****** object or something to talk to when your number one is not around. You see them talking to another person and you see them as a threat to your relationship that you don't care much for in the first place, only you can fool around. The person you see behind their back isn't nearly attractive nor as fun as your first option yet you continue to waste time with both these people because you find it fun to be sneaky. Once you're secret lovers leave you for someone better you will find yourself alone in life, in an apartment at age 35, single, having a hard time looking for a date. We don't feel sorry for you!

I stepped out of my comfort zone,
And appeared in a ship caught in a storm;
I wanted to tell a story through prose, never known,
But my mind froze and searched somewhere warm.

I went to leave the delicate flower of poetry
In which I have found comfort within the lines.
Fields full in bloom with poetic prosperity.
The flow of stream keeping rhythm in time.

I brought my bare feet to observe from rough peaks,
Overlooking the blank page expanded with power.
Preparing to leave on this journey for weeks,
Leaving the comfort of my sweet fields of flower.

Setting doubts aside, I set my pixie soul to sail,
Becoming narrative of chunky, clunky prose.
Daunted and haunted on a foreign ship to prevail,
I heard poetry beckon through bitter winds that arose.

Though I do respect prose, it is not a flow that I know.
It expands endlessly, like the heart of the sea.
My narration is rhythm, and wherever I go,
The flowers of poetry call back to me.

I soon jumped ship to be at peace where I roam,
Among the enchanting patterns of flowering fields.
I listen again to the trickle of the river, I'm home,
Channeling poetic prosperity this pixie wields.

morning sunshine
shines over last nights regret
uncovers the shadows
a boy I feel like I have not met

though I wake up next to him
I know nothing but his skin
not a name to his face
but I already let him in

days pass and he is absent from my life
his face replaced by a number just added to the list
I'm not worth a call or a text
although we already kissed

he posts pictures with her
and doesn't respond to me
the alcohol goes down to heal the pain
till that new boy at the party is all I can see

morning sunshine
shines over last nights regret
uncovers the shadows
a boy I feel like I have not met

i'm this close to never talking to him again, but we all know
that will never happen,
he's like the three shots of ***** i knocked back on a thursday,
hot and stinging down my throat,
wishing there was someone else there to keep the warmth going.
i ******* hate the fact
that
he's the first one who made me blush,
before then i never had
but all you have to do is mention him next to me in the car
and my face is a bed of roses.
i'm ******* sick of waiting for a message
any sign that i wasn't just a distraction
a mirage,
any sign that this attraction i'm feeling
is worth it
at all.
i hate the fact, even more,
that he is the closest i've had
to romantic attraction that i can hold in my hands.
that my friends can talk about the boys they've gone through
when i've had this rotten apple core sitting in my stomach
for three years.
and the thing i most hate
is the tingling feeling
of having no one beside me at night
even though i'm fifteen
it's so tangible i can bite it.
i know it's cliche, but
i'm stuck in this hole
this garbage dispenser of no good,
and i've never felt so alone.
i need a new addiction,
so maybe it'll be easier
to quit him.