mrc 1h
tell me something beautiful

what do you mean "something beautiful"

i mean something that'll make me forget about
him and how his eyes look like upturned soil;
the way his hairs falls gently in his face and his
mouth splits in two when he grins
tell me something beautiful; a distraction
please
i beg of you
katerina 18h
My name is unknown, and yours too,
but I'll absorb your brown eyes
and I'll mimic your crooked smile
just to piece together parts of you,
to convince myself that I've read your story.
Because if we’re being honest... strangers are far more interesting when I write their stories.
Through crowds of chaos
the room becomes still
as you pull me through
to your world
not having to be near
your eyes
like portals
guiding me to serenity
taking in what you breath
inconceivably
deceiving me
like clay, you play
by ripping me apart
from the start I knew
you had me
it's in the art of
shape shifting
to please my senses,
bits and pieces
there is
not enough glue
to keep us whole so
we fall
we fall apart
nothing can keep us there
we try
but change like clouds
until
we fade away.
Added on to a previous poem I shared a while ago, and now is part of a new song :)
I suppose it's alright if you don't reciprocate.

I am deeply familiar with the inner workings of love and hate.

More than you think, I understand your position.

Is one I've been in, and don't find myself missing.





Just know I'll be there for you.

I'll know when and when not to care for you.

When to share with you.

And if you leave.. I might despair... I'll miss you.





However, don't let my pursuit of happiness derail yours.

Nor should I change your details or more.

I guess my path is to help create your happiness.

Even if I'm not in that, it's none the less.





All I ask is that you consider.

I've grown around all breeds.

When I see one, I know an elixer.

I might not be yours, however, that doesn't mean YOU don't fulfill MY needs.





I'm sorry for any pain or conflict.

I'm sorry that I'm not gone yet.

I'm sorry that I must fulfill my promise.

I am NOT sorry for how I feel.





This is real, unfiltered and unfettered.

Perhaps this way is really better.

I don't expect I or you to change.

Please know, I Am NOT just another page.





Nor another paragraph.

And perhaps I'm being brash...

I don't think so.

I'd ask for chapters or a novel written by your pencil.





And maybe I'm drunk.

Possibly I'm dumb.

Certainly I'm numb.

But That's why I can't ignore this feeling I call love.





Fuck it. I am dumb.

Probably means what I feel is wrong.

I must be just like the others, shuffling along.

Wanting something that I wish was mine but wasn't all along.





I mustn't know your true needs and wants.

Otherwise I wouldn't feel this incessant need to talk.

I want to delve deeper, trust me I do care.

I don't trust people willy nilly, just here and there.





Maybe I don't know what I need.

Possibly you don't either.

But you're the only one whose got me writing poetry.

So I will die in this battle, because I am a true fighter.





I see the marks on your arm, on your body.

I have them too... by another name, on my soul.

You aren't nobody.

I want you to know.





For me loyalty and trust are king.

You should know, that's why I haven't made a scene.

I have too much respect, even if sometimes it seems unseen.

Truly, I am sorry... I do believe.





Like a true scorpio... Complicated, that's what I am.

I don't expect, or necessarily want you to understand.

If I believe you, you should me.

I'll be those singular tracks in the sand.





Listen, dudette... I know you prefer that.

I wouldn't do that...

That being: whatever... whomever hurt you.

I only want to learn from you.





So please... Get your shit together.

Quit fucking around.

Stay in my head.

Because I enjoy having you around.





Is it selfish of me to ask this?

Maybe not theoretically, possibly in practice.

If you're still unsure to whom I'm bleeding  my heart out with all this talking...

All you'll have to do is count the number of quatrains... Truly this is what I mean... even if you're only...
I know you told me not to get attached, because you might have to leave. I'm still not sure what the full meaning of that was. This wasn't easy for me to write. Expressing how I feel doesn't come easy to me. I hope you understand that. You came into my life by surprise. I wasn't expecting anything like this. Yet, I have no regrets. I feel like I've found my muse. I mean, shit, you've got me writing fucking poetry. I'm not sure if you get how out of character this is for me. No matter what I've said in the past, you are the 5th on my list. And you know exactly what I mean by that. That's no small matter either. I've meet many people in my life, and none have made me feel the way I do now, let alone without any physical connection. If this makes you feel uncomfortable, then I apologize for that. However, I will not... no ... cannot, apologize for how I feel about you. Fuck I'm dumb.
So many people walking by,
So dead,  but still alive.
They're all in a rush to
Get in line.
Familiar faces,  with their smiles
As blank as mine,
Open eyes and empty minds...

Stuck in their patterns,  day and night,
With no release in sight,
They live and die inside their hives...
From nine to five they keep their
Masters satisfied;
White collared slaves who don't realize...

They drown their pain in
Beer and wine,
Illusions of good times.
Just leave your hopes and dreams
Behind...

Check your emotions,
Leave your happy at the door.
Drowning depressions while they're lying on the floor.

I see the sadness in their eyes,
The truth behind their lies.
See, they can't laugh,  and i
Can't cry...

They form the pieces of the same machine,  and I?
I'm standing by,  

Watching your world through heroin eyes...
A poem I wrote during my worst of times.
Cat Lynn 11h
strong>T wo
W eeks
E arly...
,
N ot
T he
Y oungest...
,
F orever
O btaining
R adiant
T wo
H ues

O nly
F or

F ew
E yes...
,
B right
R ivalries
U nite...
,
A new
R elative's
Y earling...


                          Hello Again, My Reminder Of my Birth
                                                     2-24-00
(I don't know why the strong thing is up there it's suppose to be **T**.. of well XP
...okay not the best poem...but it was something different I wanted to try?

Okay for those who didn't understand it, but something that has been passed down in my family are two different colored eyes, they aren't that noticeable like they USE to be when I was a baby but if you stared into my eyes, and looked around the edges... you can see how different they really are. My uncle on my mom's side had them, and before him my grandfathers brother had it. It's been passed down for generations. And that was the first thing they noticed with me when I was little. I was forced to be born 2 weeks early, so I was a pretty small baby XD. but.. yeah... although i wish they were more noticeable... idk it's always something I've been proud to have... I am the second youngest of my family,  although i was SUPPOSE to be the youngest. ....but yeah..

The Yearling Part is weird I know, but a yearly refers to an animal of new birth, Since I am called "Cat" and so was my uncle, some say I am his "yearling" if you will.... yeah it's weird... idk XD

Idk it's a strange Birthday Poem I wanted to try I didn't know else what to write or even how to write it XD forgive me if it's terrible

Thank You Lord <3

Cat Lynn ///
2-24-2000
The half broken mirror kept
in the forgotten corner of
my house
tells me stories of a man.
The half broken mirror tells me
the man would look at
the mirror for hours
smoking his favorite cigars
until his ashtray was full.
The half broken mirror tells me
the man would look at
the mirror for hours
weeping tears of tar
until his heart was full.
The half broken mirror tells me
the man would look at
the mirror for hours
telling stories of strange lands
until his eyes were full.
The half broken mirror tells me
the man would look at
the mirror for hours
reciting the name of a woman
until his soul was full.
The half broken mirror tells me
that it would often
see itself in the man.
Nuna 1d
I might misplace my keys from time to time,
I'll forget to buy milk and do the laundry,
my mother calls me irresponsible
cannot blame her, she doesn't understand;
my mind is busy
analyzing peoples lips when they talk, the way they smile
or when they walk
observe their fingers as they hold on to something
do they hold it tightly? does the way they hold it influence their need for it?
I like to study peoples eyes the most
when they laugh
when they cry
when they talk or just listen
the glory is each individual eye and the way the color changes in sunlight
I'm sorry I forgot your birthday
the names of the movies we watched
I didn't mean to ignore your calls, i promised I'd call back
I will
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