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Kevin Eli Jul 2012
***
Your skin doesn't lie,
Your lips don’t either.
The soft touch of hand,
Upon body,
You give in.
Sweat, spilled wine and swoon,
Your heart skips a beat,
Only to match mine
In sync.
Lights on, lights off.
Beat harder,
Breathe faster,
Using our bodies to see each other.
Stop and go
Holding our breath,
Gripping the sheets
Until it’s over.
Just Melz Sep 2014
The Silence Is Terrifying.
A creak from a chair or the rustling of paper is all that breaks it.
My thoughts are so loud.
I pity those who are not alone.
I feel scared to think,
for I might sound a whisper.
The Silence Is Terrifying.
Should I speak?
No...
I would startle myself.
Maybe the others hear it too.
The silence,
I mean.
It is so loud that my heart is like
the beats of drums.
My thoughts are the words to my lovely song.
The creaking of the chair and the rustling of paper are the offkey note.
The Silence IS Terrifying.
I wrote this about ten years ago,  I just found it along with several other poems onanother poetry site. Tell me what you think?  :)
Dean Eastmond Sep 2014
There are poems lingering
in the pit of my stomach,
syllables hidden in the
depths of the bags under
my eyes,
sonnets cowering in dried out
veins
and haikus dissolving, drowning
in my arteries
at the pale midnight hours
that no paper
could ever materialise.
Dean Eastmond Sep 2014
I’ve drank ***** that tasted
better
than your biter heart
and smoked cigarettes that
smelled sweeter
than your gut wrenching pride,
glided razors across my body
that are softer than your
words
and swallowed pills that numb
me
more than this heartbreak.
Dean Eastmond Sep 2014
I have witnessed poets clinging
onto life by the skin of their own words
and the finest novelists terrified
by the bullet tick of their typewriters,
in knowledge that each click is part of
a continuous countdown to “The End”.
The late night sound of their pens scratching
upon paper not made for emotions so raw
drives them insane, urges a hunt for something
that will hurt them more than who they write for did.
I have read poems that scream “save me”
when the voices of the composers silently echo
off cold walls from therapy offices and cracked paint
in chapels that forget each of their
empty confessions.
Al Aug 2014
I liked to feel
Yours hands
Not quite on my
waist
but just below my
ribs.
you'd put your hands
there then
pull me forward
Till our chests touched
and we were one.
you'd look into my eyes
And I could see what
you were thinking.
I'd lay my head down
with my right ear
Over your heart so
I could hear it get
Faster
And faster
and faster
Till one day
It stopped.
and I looked up into
Your eyes and
they were gone.
I'm sorry but I had to.
Salomé Albrecht Aug 2014
Tap, tap, and tap faster now
to the beat she’d exclaim

Her fingers would dance over black and white keys
as her expression screamed passionate
She held herself up with ease, dressed in love
Poise could very well be her middle name
Patience and respect dangled, I imagined
from her tousled brown hair
Laughter to be thankful for in her piano lesson

Clap, clap, and clap faster now
to the beat she’d exclaim

- salome albrecht
For my piano teacher.
Poetic T Aug 2014
LOVE IS HEART FELT
love is stupid
LOVE IS FEELINGS SHARED
love is heart ache,
LOVE IS HOLDING HANDS
love is confusion in mind,
LOVE IS WHEN WE BECOME ONE
love is longing for you in my life,
LOVE IS SKIPPING A HEART BEAT WHEN WE TOUCH
love is my heart lonely again,
L
O
V
E
~
I
S*
WhAt EvEr We MaKe It FoR  hOw EvEr LoNg It LaStS
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