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 Jan 2014 sinderella
authentic
Left and Right
Two completely different things
But my love for you
Is neither left nor right
My love for you is in between
My love for you is snow when the sun is out
My love for you is a clean house with muddy floors
My love for you is a shooting star without making a wish
Confusing maybe
But real
My love for you is is indifferent
But my love for you is real
 Jan 2014 sinderella
Emily
I can honestly say
I spend every waking moment
Of every day
Craving the feel of your soft skin
Wanting to kiss you
And taste your lips
Hours can go by
Where I'm distracted
But lingering in the back of my mind
Is the thought of how perfect you'd be
In my arms
But most of the time
The thought of loving you
Consumes my every thought
I think of all the different ways
That I can demonstrate
My love and devotion
Your body is a sacred place
I need to explore
I'm longing to take a journey
With you right below me
Relishing in the feel of my touch
I'm going crazy with want
Let me satisfy my appetite for love
By satisfying you
© Mela 2014
I find love an amazing thing.
yet it hurts,
it's draining,  
***** with your brain
and sends you mixed signals
signals where you don't know if they're
a laugh of joy
or a cry for help.
you find out everything about them
yet you still want to find out more.
you feel it's absolutely necessary for you to know more only because your heart tells you you can never know to much of someone.
it's the sparkle in their eye.
the amazing butterflies
that just clutter you stomach.
the way you can spend so much time just getting ready for something for that someone when at the end of the day it doesn't matter what you look like because the only thing that makes them
fall in love with you
is your personality.
love is a special thing,
it's hard to find
but easy to know when it comes.
it's the rush, the spark that just appears in your lonely heart that makes you
addicted,
compulsively just want more
of the excitement that no other living thing
can satisfy you with.
maybe this just happens in movies
or plays
or even the cliche songs that give you a vivid image.
but if is real
and happens to me.
I hope it never ends.
 Jan 2014 sinderella
dany
To whom it may concern
I'm just another ****-up.

It's hard for me to express
all the words on my mind.
Though there are many things
that I'd like to say here,
it never comes out right anyway.

Yes, I am a lost soul, though
I've never been much for finding things.
Content in our misery? Not quite.
Though there are stars
that always shine the brightest
and they're there if you bother to look.

Not the best at many things,
like drawing, singing, spinning, dancing.
I wish I could say that I was confident
while doing the things that I love to do.
I've never had the pleasure
of keeping my hopes real high
The master at keeping my head down low.

Loving life was never easy.
I've never said it was.
Scars prove my journey.
No one knows I go through these things
but maybe you understand better now
About who I am.

I never wanted it to get this far.
I never wanted it to be this dark.
and my mind is constantly
plagued with these thoughts.
It's safe to say that my mind is alive.

I'm not outspoken and I'm not quiet.
I'm not fat and I'm not skinny.
I'm not ugly and I'm not beautiful.
I'm not boring and I'm not fun.
I'm Morgan, nice to meet you.
 Jan 2014 sinderella
Annelise
I've had trouble sleeping lately because I think about you and what I imagine in dreams got me insanely confused.
Memories of the past but mostly moments, images of what we have and pieces of what I want.
Fantasies, desires that I can't achieve in real life because your heart is cut in half and I won't let you break mine.
Every night, I toss and turn like a lion in a cage, like your face is a curse and a gift all at once, a burning candle I can't touch if I want to stay alive.
And when my imagination gets rid of all the wax, when I'm too tired to have you back in mind, when the hours fly away from dusk till sunrise, I finally break free from your ghost but the shadows still secretly remaining show me once again that I'm already lost.
 Jan 2014 sinderella
r
3 Welsh Road
 Jan 2014 sinderella
r
A lovely name for a lane
Wonder how it got its name
A lady poet weaves her words
And grows her flowers and her herbs
Lighting fires of inspiration
Casting spells of abjuration
Creating for us prismatic spheres
Of plants and sea and salty tears
The poetess happy in her abode
On 3 Welsh Road

r ~ 2013
Repost of one lost and recovered.  For Lady KMae.
we're friends right? no we are strained acquaintances we are yin yan
g with nine colors we are tv static on all night when you're too tired to
get up and turn it off we are doodles in the margins of a very importa
nt research paper you are lost in everyone forgetting that my middle
name is freedom i am putting on metaphorical makeup to mask my
emotional blemishes we are sour candy and ginger ale we are obscu
re genres of music shoegaze my ****** valentine we are a waterco
lor clusterfuck bleeding together like an amateur blood drive read b
etween the lines we are biodegradable plastic half covered in the soil
untouched for two years we are sunshine and chill bumps I hate you
for the same reasons I hate myself we are nostalgia and anxiety we a
re insomniacs who only want each other between the hours of 8 pm
and 6 am we are avoiding eye contact in the halls
 Jan 2014 sinderella
Meagan Moore
We watched the sun fall down and scrape its knee again, across the horizon.
Effusing amaranth, carmine, and cochineal across polluted vista.
It felt petty to issue guttural laughs, or engage the myofacial crescents beneath its visual lament as the Earth turned its back again.

We watched the sun rise, bruised, tender and shy this morning.
Its muddled contusion obviated by the gauze of fog.
A mottled neophyte -
Luminescent crepuscular rays defied dregs of interstellar debris and cloud.
Aching to kiss your skin -
In stellar cloud nursery, it eschewed the torque of orbit and gravity - eras before verity of your essence.
Humbly settling concentrically about oblate sphere, and gaseous tome.
Latterly - It altered the atmospheric pressure on the other side of the planet a week antecedently, as you clung to your dream lattice, and Earth innately turned oblate nucleus.
Its intent –
A veneration of you.
It bade the atmosphere convey a breeze echoing about your dermis, as it gilded your frame laconically, betwixt shaded steps beneath cloud and arbor.

The sun yelled at me at its pinnacle today,
Pallid bone – molten - miasma of rage
Its core missive garnered inertia – coronal plasma warping ellipsoid factions in inflections of elusive filigree
Pirouetting spicules spattered smelted torrents in the dismal anchorite
Atomic schism – silent but felt
It stoked humidity under shadowed niche - casual vaporous smears evinced no clemency.
Flesh torqued, and seized beneath itself, briny globules shed from puckered pore.
Culminations of sensitive fluid sacs scorched into the shallows of my chassis.
Insignia knit in cellular shrapnel

The sun ignored me today – or perhaps, it was I it.
Enigmatic tenacious resolution – an echo of its gravitational collapse
Inverse thermonuclear fusion
It is not fear in a relationship that keeps you apart, it is neglect of the infinitesimal.
 Jan 2014 sinderella
Emily
I had to change my name on here because someone in my real life kept finding my poetry and reading it despite me kindly asking them to respect my privacy. My poems are my deepest and most personal thoughts. I write for me, in order to get my emotions out. It is an outlet for me. I don't necessarily want my friends and family seeing what I have to say. I appreciate all of the poets here and love the feedback from you all, so please don't think Peyton went away. She is just Mela now. Carmela is my grandmother's name:)
© Mela 2014
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