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Kiss me
                           Take me to bed

                                    punch me in the nose
                            ****** my mind with your rage

                                                                   and forgive me nothing
Hold me tenderly
                       as your friend
                                                        and      keep      my secrets
                          Interlock your fingers         into mine

show me your eyes
                                  allow me the depth of your soul
                            the chance to kindle
                                              your intricate loveliness

Feel something         &
     allow yourself to feel it first
                                                        before tearing it apart for answers
Em MacKenzie Oct 8
Please don’t mind me,
I’m just a splinter of the past.
Wandering blindly,
and hands are tied so I can’t grasp.
Just like the thought,
of giving up after giving all I’ve got,
I admit that it wasn’t a lot.

Now it’s too late to pretend
that I’m not broken; could be so easy to mend,
I’ll hide the shatter point where you made me bend.
I’ll return to my other fix,
it succeeds in dulling my heart with it’s mind tricks,
a perfect combination just mix and blend.

Nightly I lay awake
sketching scenarios involving us,
where you give and I take,
I return equal amounts; a benefit of respect & trust.
When it’s time to fill in each word,
I admit I’m aware I’m not what she deserves,
someone better who won’t lose their nerve.

‘Cause it’s too late to pretend
that it’s not plagued in every thought I spend,
should be thankful that I’m important enough to still be called friend.
And there’ll always be somebody else,
completely oblivious to a heart’s wealth,
and too focused on their self to ever expend.

We can’t fix the mistake
but we can make a new one;
drain each ocean and lake,
and completely block out the sun.

Yes it’s too late too pretend
that you’re not draped in every word I’ve penned,
even with the lowest odds I’ll still contend.
And do you see each blow and broken bone,
wishing that I’d just leave and find a home?
On me you can depend to not be alone,
do you think the same you could lend?
Em MacKenzie Oct 5
The one who can **** you
by simply disappearing,
is without a doubt,
the one who can save you
by simply existing.
“To fight the darkness, Azor Ahai needed to forge a hero's sword. He labored for thirty days and thirty nights until it was done. However, when he went to temper it in water, the sword broke. He was not one to give up easily, so he started over. The second time he took fifty days and fifty nights to make the sword, even better than the first. To temper it this time, he captured a lion and drove the sword into its heart, but once more the steel shattered. The third time, with a heavy heart, for he knew before hand what he must do to finish the blade, he worked for a hundred days and nights until it was finished. This time, he called for his wife, Nissa Nissa, and asked her to bare her breast. He drove his sword into her breast, her soul combining with the steel of the sword, creating Lightbringer, while her cry of anguish and ecstasy left a crack across the face of the moon.”
-George R.R Martin
“A Song of Ice & Fire.”
n jacob Sep 12
Don’t give me another self-help book, please, I beg you.
I don’t need another ounce of “do this” or “think that”.

Life isn’t a **** formula, nor is it a perfectly organized, bound book.
The pages don’t turn easily from one to the next.

Give me something REAL.

Some say poetry is too flowery, distant, inaccessible.
But poetry is for those who have, and want to FEEL.
One thing is for **** sure,
We have heart, emotion, depth.

Give me something that says something
Without spelling it out;
Give me something that makes me feel something.
Igniting me to action.
I want to cry, laugh, shout, and jump because of what I read.
I want those deep chills you get, when something feels REAL.

I just want something on the page that’s real.
And we are bringing back authenticity.
Cuz young writers are here.
And we have, and want to FEEL something.

It’s been a long winter,
But the sun is shining over the horizon again.
A poem about the power of poetry to help me through life and how poetry is on the rise again through young writers with great things to say.
Nylee Sep 4
Everyone's allowed to be themself
Why do i care what they think about myself
I can never trust, it is just
So hard to be me when I am with them
Because they define what I ought to be
And I can't control myself to be me
The version they expect of me from me

The image I made, they painted
The original is lost beneath the skin
All the words that I speak and mean
I mean it different than what I say
There is another depth in me I can't display
It is kind, all well defined
Role I need to take, for their sake
Kenji Aug 9
I don't deserve a love like that, that cuts so deep is anguishes your desires.
That burns so low it heightens the flame.
That hurts so intensely it labels pain.
To love one so passionately and intuitively, it cradles your nightmares.
Becomes of existence to your placid dreams, awakens a mystery and becomes the soul.
The love that ravishes your mind, holds your body still, and kisses you aggressively like an ****** pill.
A love that plays with your heart, cuts it open, and leaves it bleed to despair.
No one deserves a love like that, it's nerve twitching and scary, it leaves you hanging on to the last thread like, where do I go next?
It leaves you wondering of your worth, making you see what a burden you are.
It leaves you questioning your hope, as if faith really is the answer.
It breaks you down like a thin branch about to break.
It rips you apart and scars your flesh.
Wondering, am I worth this pain?
Am I worthy to love again?
So cold, so evil, it withers up inside, creating a storm.
Can I love again?
Love is poison, smoke it.
Don't let it fade,
Because what we have, Isn't a trade
Let's decide, not to keep our feelings sacred
Whatever it is, let's confront
& try not to escape.
Downfalls are usual,
Obviously, they'll be irrational
Only when,
What we have, turns
Relationships shouldn't be as hard as coal,
If it's Love,
It shouldn't be the BODY first,
But, the SOUL.
“I fall in love with words, so how could I not fall in love with yours? How could I not fall in love with the beautifully weaved lies? How could I not fall in love with the words that flowed like melody and phrased like lyrics holding emotional depth? How could I not fall in love with the perfect illusion of the love you had? How could I not fall in love with image of how beautiful I was by the compliments you sent my way?”
...The universe breathes in the dark
It's the starlight that shines through your transcended soul
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