Dylan 3h
I knew she was the one for me
when I fully lost my sanity.
I was the lowest I had ever been
and never thought I would find love again.
/
I found her on a dating app
and never thought she would be my wife.
I wanted to keep it casual
but she soon became my entire life.
/
She was waiting for me when I left,
when I thought I had found my cure.
When I finally first saw her
my heart skipped a beat I'm sure.
/
She was just as I expected
and as caring as I hoped.
She understood my illness
without the need to keep it cloaked.
/
She will be the one I marry
and I will never doubt our flame.
I cannot wait to wed her
and could not be prouder to give her my name.
Get back.
          Turn the light off.
                   Kneel before the master.
                         Then weep continuously.
                                  Bring yourself to a humble state.
Weep. Wrote this a while ago but couldn't be bothered to post it. Idk.
A world without love
is a world full of despair and dwindling lives,
a world without love,
is a world without children,
a world without love,
is a world without empathy,
a world without love,
is a dying world,
a world without love,
is not a world worth living in.
Sometimes,
I imagine I'm some
mourning starlet
who sings Lana Del Rey
at the club
every Saturday night.

A honeyed halo of stage light
tangles itself about
the curled labyrinth
of my hair,
sparkles gold against
my tearing irises.

My mouth parts
and the war cries begin.

In the moments that
the melody offers
my voice repose,
I pound shots to the beat
of the drummer's ramblings.

The crowd applauds
my tipsiness,
their hoots of praise
shaking at the depths
of my eardrums
like an intoxicated tambourine.

My neuroticism
fascinates these people,
I think.

Not in an
exploitive,
let's-glamourize-depression
kind of way,
but in an
it is a truth universally acknowledged
kind of way--in a
"*******, cuz I've been there too"
kind of way.

See,
within my little,
concocted fantasy
of stage light
and music
and *****,
the people don't judge me
the way they do
on the outside.

Here,
I am not
melodramatic or
overly sensitive or
disposable.

Here,
my war cries sound
a little less
like death and
a little more
like poetry.

Here,
they love me
in spite of the sadness.

Here,
we share a song--
here,
they sing with me.
Don't be a stranger--check out my blog!

jadefbartlett.wixsite.com/tickledpurple

(P.S. Use a computer to ensure an optimal reading experience)
Between the beams of last light and sunrise,
collective souls enter the twilight of dreams.

A great many dwell here,
but far greater are the dreamless.
Those lonely, shut out hearts,
whose minds dare not open.

But for the good ones,
struck hard by empathy's song
they dream.

They float on a sea of faces,
masks of every spectrum of emotion.
Here, dreams become reality,
as real as anyone believes them to be.

On some level, they must know this.
They must acknowledge this consciousness.
They wake, knowing and doubting.
For how terrifying is that truth.

And in all that fear,
dreamers know they must dream.
They must exist between the beams,
for all the dreamless dreams.
I know you were left behind..
I know you were abandoned.
I know you were forgotten.

A horrible, creature of discord follows you.
The demon of despair is stalking you.

You know?
You know... Yes.
You possess valour then, sweet.

Your aura has become a blackened purple.
It is yours.
Let it not become black.

The creature will soil it.

I am there when you weep, dear...
I feel your sorrows and troubles.
I can see the death in your eyes.
I know where those scars came from.
I am here and feel all the calamity from them.
Seething rage.
True terror.
Tremendous longing.

I know you seek love.
I know you have tried with many.
You sell yourself out..
Reckless?..
You feel you give yourself away too easily.
You don't really know them
But
Through the writings you love their souls.

I know you wanted love in return.
I know you would do anything for it.
My lovely...

Your heart is bleeding.
Your eyes are screaming.
You tears that fall from your eyes.
Yes, the weeping and lamenting..
Every night.

The fear from the terror
Yes, the terror that lies in dreams.
2am.
5am.
6am.
"Someone please just.. love me."

Love you truly.
Love you truly is what you say.
Love you truly is what you want.

Your honey-coloured eyes will be adored one day.
They are a gift to whosoever beholds them.

You are a healer.
You carry the sweet, purple aura.
You can rest your hand on their heart
and still the ravaging within.

Purified.
Tonight I'm just thinking about some things.. And my empathy was aroused again.. I'm just.. Yeah..
Beanie Jan 11
There are places in the world where beauty is abundant, where the creatures of the earth come together with ease and the horizon stretches far beyond your fingertips.

There are places in the world where the sunshine is golden and warm, the rain is light, and the breeze is gentle.

There are places in the world where children laugh and play without fear, where grandmothers and grandfathers sip iced tea and share stories of when they were young.

There are places in the world waterfalls rush over glorious cliffs, and the moon rises above the treetops, just out of reach from outstretched fingers.

There are places in you where the stardust floats through your veins, where the sunlight touches your flesh and lights you up into your core.

There are places in you where your vibrancy shines out, where you are warm and inviting, where the moonlight peaks softly above your head.

There are places in you where your love is abundant, where your soulfulness is spread like wings, and where your empathy glows like a halo above you.

There are places in you where nothing but love is found, where comfort is given freely, and where your beauty is gloriously plentiful.
piper m Jan 10
If I had four paws
I would feel no obligation but
to please you

I would sit by your side,
and stare straight into your mind

Innocence leaking from my eyes

You would pat my head
gently
tenderly
as if to say
I love you too
a little cheesy, a little confusing, don't ask me why the title is woof, it just is
All within my hands: I carry the aura.
All within my hands: I carry the gift.
All within my hands: I carry the essence.

A soothing, dark red.

Is it crimson? No...
Is it scarlet? No...
Is it burgundy? No...

It is carmine.
Carmine is in me.
And I am within her.

She is pleasant.
She adores all.
She loves unconditionally.

I will look after her well, Lord.
I will not let anyone quench her.
I will not silence her beauty.

I will nourish her;
she will become a radiant brilliance.

A shining sun.
A peaceful presence.
A soothing seraph.
A gift..? Empathy. Empathy as a gift.. I am thankful. I see the colour of the aura in me. It is carmine. We all have a gift.. I have found mine..
I will never stop
        
                       I will never cease

I will never restrain
    
                                   and I will never stop loving

Because my heart desires you.
It is simple. I adore you.
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