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September Roses Jun 2018
Go asphyxiate yourself

On your dilusional thought of love
One day you'll find the one

And all your problems will dissolve

Your happily ever after

The true perfect match
that you cant spend a waking hour without dreaming of how much they mean to you

Grow old with
Every second of your life as long as you both shall live

Scrap book with and share vows of love
Love
   Love

Your fairy tail ending with your Cinderalla and Prince Charming

Search for the eternal solution to loneliness

Your soulmate
     Your other half

True love will set you free


Is that right?



Go **** yourself
Kevin  Jul 4
dissolve
Kevin Jul 4
love

help me to dissolve

and become a part of you
A slender white cloud,
tells wind its tale, dissolves!
The sky's smile vanishes.
B L Jul 2018
The difference between actions and habits,
     is often measured by the person you're asking.  
One bump, one line, one half ounce...
All shared by people you don't even give a **** about.

These chemicals make me sick --
              Limitless...Why quit?
              When it's only ten bucks for a hit like this?
Even Jesus Christ would have gotten addicted,
              if drugs in his day were half this good.

"Yeah, I'm smashed -- but I promise I can drive fine."
      Walk and push the limits of a real fine line...
If I don't **** myself, or someone else... I'm happy.
       Stare death in his eyes, wink, and start laughing.

Gasping as I swerve lanes --
Stay safe, get paid. Mundane daily.
Living a-live.. Eat. Sleep. Dream. Get laid.  
Chase feelings.

           Please, just feel me now.
                                    You know me, right?

           Please, just feel me now.
                                    You love me, right?

I want to melt with you -- let our souls collide...
Dissolve the boundaries between students and teachers.
        To bridge the gap in the great divide
        No secrets between us -- bleed into the speakers.

Feel the air in your chest, and ask God for a reason...
To stay or leave Him.
He makes excuses...

                                                     ­      ... Believe Him.
KM Hanslik Jun 2018
I pick up my pen again
I want these words to be everything
love letters
apologizes
confessions, daydreams
plans? Or roadmaps, new
contracts, to-do lists, like
"stop falling down," or
"try harder this time". I turn
you over but you don't give me what I'm looking for, I'm looking
for a place to dissolve this poison
I'm searching in the dark for halos that don't exist
I'm counting up nights of lost sleep,
calculating the probability of
our intertwined fingers as
remedies melt
off your tongue and run over
cracks in the pavement, oozing
sticky shower thoughts into our heads, like how
did we end up here?,& how
does the world end every night but go
on spinning the next morning?

I want this to be everything, the cure
our futures, soft plans,
collections of stitched together questions like how long
does forever taste on your breath
in the aftermath of all the anxiety you tend
to consume?

I want to pull the drapes on this thing and leave it to breathe in the
dark, leave it under
covers so these ailments don't seep
around my doorframe and pull
what is half-born into the light, let it be
let it live
let it cave in on itself and slowly
rebuild.
Chances come in
handfuls,  
let the sun forget to practice her
old game of never
letting anyone rest; my fingers are warm & numb now and they remind me a little of
how you look when you're half asleep
they remind me
why this is fragile, why this is broken
why this can never
last and I'm sitting
in the passenger seat wondering
how the soft things stretch out their wings in
my lungs without
killing me, but they're
leaving their marks now, clawing
up my throat;
I close my eyes and give
them to the open air.
 
You don't know all of this; your eyelids
are heavy and you're keeping track
of who I am in little
notepads & reminders,
keeping track
of the way we move and how likely
we are to remember this moment in 5 years,
because right now you want
to capture it and tame it like a living thing.  

We are becoming dust
molecules, we are
burning, we are becoming
quiet we don't leave footprints
we don't leave traces
we are heading toward the end of the world with our hands
tucked into our pockets, we are headed
toward the end of the world dissolving each others names on our tongues like sugar, we are headed
toward the end of the world and when we get there,

it starts again.
Bellissima  May 13
Dissolve
Bellissima May 13
Sometimes I wish
my body could dissolve
into complete nothingness,
a blank slate, a clean canvas

or even split into a thousand pieces,
a dandelion's white tips
blown off by a child's lips,
or even melt into pure liquid substance.

Maybe then it could escape
or become immune
to the ***** torment
of your suffocating eyes.
* d i r t y* torment
Crumble  Aug 2013
Temptation
Crumble Aug 2013
I don't fare well in the face of temptation,
I lack control
I don't fare well under many circumstances,
But I think I manage fine on the whole.

The face of temptation has many expressions
From longing to almighty fear
You'd think acknowledging the problem
Could start to dissolve it -
But I guess the rules were never that clear.

You wave temptation in my face
And aren't you aware at all?
For we know my feelings don't glide,
they stumble, they blindly fall.

I don't fare well in the face of temptation,
But you know I do what I can.
You waved this temptation in my face
So from you, rightly, *I ran.
Nat Lipstadt Jun 2018
why I love certain men


it’s a raining and writing Saturday,
a washout for the beach visitors who chose their
calendar lottery tickets poorly

but hurrah and huzzah for the poet
in the no-sun-today-room with
steam collecting on his face from his 20 oz. Canadian mug,
the rest of him cozied neath a
wooly mohair knitted and tasseled blanket,
from a now naked and shivering alpaca goat in Turkey or Tibet

perhaps we’ll make a tiny dent
in the 1319 poems,
in the ‘sorta started to do’ list

****.
new one sneaks in demanding immediate satisfaction
and threatening my mind’s incarceration unless,
serviced and unleashed as the Frenchies say

Frites, immédiatement!: (french fries, now!)

I love most men; certain men more than others,
not because they are soft to the touch,
look great in thigh highs, can fix a backhoe,
lay hands on animals, just as they do upon their grandchildren,
or write better poetry than me,
because
they make me weep from zealous delight at
their capricious unprecedented constancy of their
honorable actions

they are soft to the core, which is itself
wrapped in a leather soldered steel,
which defines them by their self-questing constant,
asking themselves preface and postface,
doing it well, in between,

what is the honorable thing?

this honor idea of which writ previous
doesn’t dissolve - indeed grows crescendo stronger,
like the miracle of the Yom Kippurs rams horn
crying out to heavens at the concluding end  
on the holiest judgement day,
a shofar miracle for it inhumanly grows ever louder,
ceasing only when nightfall marks a new day begun,
reminding both sinners and saviour each,
to inquire of their colluding selves on this forgiveness-giving day,

what is the honorable thing?

some are borrowers and some lenders,
of anything, the substance or the whom matters not,
but the bonding bonfire from which the deal is done,
is of a uncharted chemical organic chemical matter unrecognized
but millennium ancient


here I stop

the call to breakfast must be obeyed,
for it’s with lovely made, menu man-poet requested,
this is too an honorable thing to do,
and the 1319 half blood~half writs poking my eyes,
can be faced with new courage afterwards
on a perfect raining and writing Summer Saturday
for the next one hopefully and woefully

may not come till the September (Rosh Hashanah/Jewish New Year) when acorns fall

certain men will greet that fall Sabbath/ New Years Day,  
when Atonement begins, a ten day process to the final conclusion,
by asking of everything living and of every act human performed,
for the forgiveness requested inherent in the absolute bar setting of

what is the honorable thing?

which by the by,

is why I love certain women too...

and all who are honorable
will read this honorific and remain
clueless as to whom it is addressed...

oh god, I do so love that best!

what could signal honor even more...
jane taylor  May 2016
silver moon
jane taylor May 2016
my heart breaking
into a thousand pieces
i fade away
looking for a distant wall
to dissolve in
and evaporate

unable to vanish
i slowly gather the shards
ground fresh and smaller now
i gently blow them
and watch them magically disappear
into the night’s silver moon

©2016janetaylor
Emma  Sep 2018
Forgotten
Emma Sep 2018
You are
              so nice
    To listen to me without judgment.
To   accept   the   words   I   feed   you   when   you   ask.
You want my stories.
You ask for the bright ones, but there are none
                    Left.
So I give you
                dark ones instead.
And those you swallow down
      with your
drinks in the fitting darkness of night.
You let them dissolve away, amortised with the alcohol in your blood,
Forgotten in the morning,
And I wonder
                                        what it’s like
To love someone who
                 Doesn’t
                    Truly
                        Know
         ­                  You.
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