7

It starts as a crush,
A soft warmth of friendship,
then it feeds to an addiction,
a desire for more,
I think of his lips on mine,
of sinful things we could do,
but I hold back,
because it's not who we are,
he's pinning for another,
I'm with another,
so it's a dance,
devastation when we can't meet,
bliss when we do,
it's a dance,
urges to kiss in darkened corners,
alcohol lips on park benches,
blood, cuts and bruises,
till a bottle of wine is thrown in the mix,
and a dam unfolds.

Love vibrates at the frequency
                         of our hearts.
A mass of emotions that even
                          though a theory,
             its the building blocks
of a mathematical equation.
         That isn't totally understood.
But still we investigate the relative
                    mass & gravity that
our love is a theory of emotions gravity
                                  stringing our hearts along.

Seasons pass, tempered by insalubrious fervor; treasonous design remiss of fate

An echo of prior songs resonate somber atrophy; mourn the passing of  constant defeat, stained by triumphant dissonance and disdain

Fear strides along the broken path, left alone and solemn and crass: Through sour feats of vindication, tones of plight become dismissed

Surfeit, the sound of temptation rides upon the crest of dawn, blinding darkness like calming waves caressing infinite stretches of sand: soft and warm; kind and welcoming, embracing in its gentle touch

Sentience hides behind a creeping fog, whispering secrets of life eternal, bearing gifts wrought through sensuous candor

Two threads lost, now found; slowly bonding, uniting purpose, rhythm, rhyme, and reason; born from the same cloth, garnering habit, singing in harmony what echoes from within

Beautiful, intelligent, staunch with profundity; stark, handsome, wholesome, and good

The call of a true home may finally beckon..

The most enrapturing, green eyes, gently kissed by hues of orange and blue

I use this pen
to bleed its ink
throughout these pages
until they seep emotion
and wreak pain

we so often leave out passion in the topic of love. love isn't just an emotion shown towards another person, but a passion shown towards a hobby or dream or goal. when we say we would lose every meaning of life if we lost love, we shouldn't just mean the love of a human being because they're so fleeting. we should mean our love for the one verse of a song that sends electricity through our veins or the exhale of emotions when you have a pencil and paper in your hand or the warm glow of street lights contrasting on the fallen snow because when we lose someone we love more than anything, that doesn't mean we have nothing left to love or live for. it just means we have to focus on something else we love for a little while to help us heal.

I am touching this happiness inside me with great care.
I feel alive now.. wow ...!
What is the matter with me?
I have this emotion which wells up inside my heart,
A feeling of longing for your forever laughter,
Which brightens every moment with your charming smiles.

Xaviera Allan Dec 10

Here is the threshold of another limit:
Tough are the natural walls
That surround my consciousness
Under the temporal manipulation of negative infinity
By influence of clerval and morgan coaxings
I had hoped to break through the terminal point
It's the creativity of myself
But it ends at the edge of my eye
With my synthetic leather jacket of sanity I'd rather crawl away
From Russia to Afghanistan
I believed I had it in me, elastic and artificial
But manufactured emotions cannot occur within
They only happen on your face
I would have liked to be the first to invent a plastic heart
A false aorta, synchronized with romance
A fresh soul, rutilated with inflection
Lungs, activated with imagination
A metal spine, automated with wonder
At some point I must have relinquished my humanity
I had hoped to create life in poetry but
What I have here is necromancy

Originality

It’s 4:48
Woke up in confusion
Fell asleep late
Remembering my delusions
But forgot what I ate
As much as I try not to
I think of what I hate

About myself

Was going to write a second stanza, but lost the candid emotion and started focusing on rhyming and such instead.
Taylor Dec 9

If you think about it,
Water balloons can
Stretch and
Swell and
Though there’s tension,
They take their fill.
But
Then they’re thrown
And they
Break and
Burst and
Soak someone else.
But
Standing there soaked,
We don’t blame the balloon
No, that would be silly.
We blame the one who threw it.

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