I know her by name.
I know her by face.
Only, I don't even
know her at all.
I think I've seen her
and for once
I wasn't disappointed.

We are so much alike
only she has brighter eyes.
We are so much alike;
So, I figured
from black and white
I could be pastel--
faded bright.

We are so much alike
only she drinks psalms
like the preacher's wine.
Before I abandoned religion
I used to kneel
and break bread every Sunday, too.
So, I figured
I could still be as holy
if I clapped my hands together
and whispered litanies
on candles burning outside chapels--
faded light.

We are so much alike
in the way we love
books and music,
anything aesthetic.
But, I am wrapped in tin foil
and she dons silk and laces.
Same filling,
different faces.

And kid, I wouldn't blame you
for craving
the same flavor
in different packaging.

We are so much alike
only, compared to her
porcelain China doll skin,
I am a witch's voodoo,
covered in pins and needles
piercing rough skin,
a cheap imitation--
a fake.

We are so much alike
only I'm lying
when I say we are
because she is pastel
paint in coffee shops
and I am crayola
vandals on the sidewalk.

And let's admit pretty
isn't anything I would
ever be.

It makes me sick.
Because I'm not like her.
I'm never going to be just


Pity, that's all they ever want us to be.

Mims 2d

Never let my guard down

I've been vulnerable with you

Never given you a piece of me

You've never used anything against me

If I slack in my retaliations, or show you kindness, you're convinced you've turned me straight

You never cared that I was gay, you were fine with me that way

Guys and girls can't JUST be friends

platonic friendship is the best

Tyler R. Vs. Tyler A.

feeling your lips against mine
so soft and angelic
moving in sync
with each other

you taste like fireworks
exploding in my mouth
each kiss feels different

rougher and rougher
our lips attacking
like they are at war

- kissing you

made out w a girl in Mexico over the summer this is ab her

So many want to be painted like the French Girls
But I've painted you with Angels inside my eyes
Isn't that a million times better?
Don't get me wrong, French girls have it going on
But I like to think you have that charm and purity of the Heavens above.
Anything that interrupts your happiness will see a wreaking havoc come down on them
There's an art for elation and rage.

how to write about love
when you've never experienced it before
when all you've ever known
is the heady, warm rush
from the bottom of your belly
to the crown of your head
as you hug her
the difference in heights
allowing the divot between her breasts
to cradle your cheeks
you go up on your toes
to aim your lips
on the soft, rosy skin of her right cheek
looping your arms around her shoulders
her arms automatically encircling you
your lips smiling against her cheek

one day
you took aim with your lips once more
reaching for the pure, white expanse
but she, too, took aim with hers
looking for your own pale skin
and the timing couldn't have been more wrong
or right
as your lips crashed onto hers
for a single moment
time at a standstill
two different bodies
a pair of mouths making contact

she pulls back immediately
and you don't even register
your feet carrying you to safety
in the crowded cafeteria
its busyness somehow calming your anxious heart
as you spend the rest of Valentine's day alone

kisses aren't quite the same
aren't quite as relaxed
a layer of stiffness neither of us can
or want to uncover
her hugs aren’t tight
but her smile is
as she waves a half-hearted goodbye and turns
to aim her lips
on the bump of her boyfriend’s cheek

I would not say I love you. Those words always seem to catch halfway up my throat the way seaweed wraps around the pillars of a dock. Those three words are fleeting and have always seemed to fly with ocean drawn winds, traveling far out into sea - leaving a poor little me to wonder just how far those little words can travel before I can convince myself that they never existed.

I never meant to fall in love with you. I never meant to have feelings for a boy, or to smile at the thought of your bashful lips flirting with the idea of a quick-wit comment or rather a flickering flame. I never meant to see a boy in the mirror and wonder what it would be like to wake up every morning and seeing another boy standing just behind me in a bathrobe smiling. The smell of coffee grinds and burnt toast make me think of sunday mornings, wondering just how I fell in love with you.

I say love is accidental but it's no wonder it seems to happen so regularly like hurricanes during monsoon seasons or southern migrations of geese on september wings. I keep telling myself that it all started with the little things. It seems less frightening that way. It seems less intimidating that way, in the same fashion that seeing pictures of Everest make climbing the Himilayas seem achievable for a person like me, someone so uncertain.

I would say I love you, but you would know I'm lying. I might see you in the mirror every morning, but I see a astronomically stable star woman in my dreams. My body and mind may say it's meant for you now, but this love was never meant to stay, it is being drawn to someone else in longingly slow and soft lake-laughing waves.

If you close your eyes tight enough, little, big words, like 'love' become a little easier to say.

When you looked into her eyes
you saw that she was shy.
So you started telling lies
and making her feel alive.
For a while you thrived
because she was not too wise
and she fed your apetite
for what was between her thighs.
But the more she analysed
and the more she rationalized,
the more she realized
that you were just one big lie.
And even though on the inside,
she felt like she had died.
she let her pain solidify
so you could never see her cry.

I don't  usually  generalize and i apologize to good guys who will read this and feel condemned but i just had to put this out there. And to to the fvckboys, i see through your shit.
Emma Haze Sep 10

Ive always been drawn towards the idea if love; I'm a hopeless romantic to the core. It goes without saying thats caused me an indescribable, unconventional vast amount of pain.
Girls can be mean. Girls hurt girls.
The chances of me ever completely emotionally healing is as slim as the chance my nasal system has to recover from what i use to replace affection.

Im human, I'm an animal, a mammal, a reproductive being, its a biological addiction. I cant sleep at night when the bed is cold, i cant breath with ease when the air is sharp and lonely, i cant eat a meal if i don't have a reason other than hunger, how could I possibly?

How could i resist the warmth of soft, smooth skin, running my brittle hands gently from her neck to her hips, the taste of her lips- how they seem desperately wanting me, the sharp inhales that draw me in, the moans of "i don't think i love you but i love how you make me feel", the flesh, how your teeth grip my lips, when you gently hold my hand constantly, the way you hold me.

Im broke; emotionally, physically, mentally, financially, spiritually, yet no matter what i do i cant resist the desire to get myself hurt again- the risk of letting myself love. Im addicted to the risk.

Id really appreciate any criticism you inevitably will have, and i hope you enjoyed or took something out of this <3
Gekyla C Sep 10

Rose is like a champange
It is bitter sweet like most girls
Rose blooms as season change
But its beauty is timeless

Rose have thorns
That represent limitations
Rose is color red
It empower the nation

Rose have it all
But that's not enough
So it will remain strong
Facing life situations

Jose H Sep 9

Why is it so confusing?
Dating, I mean
Why is it you never speak your heart?
Why do you give me the small glimpse of hope?
Why do that and take it away?
I tell you, you're the one
I look at you, as if I have seen a goddess
I treat you as if you're a queen
We share a beautiful kiss
Yet im here
Dinner for two
With an empty seat in front of me
Not a word
Not an apology

Next page