When I was younger I would lie awake Crying Praying The other side of the bed wouldn't be empty One day Maybe someday
I never imagined I had no clue I only dreamt Of someone like you
I don't think you know Despite your joking ego That you're beautiful Inside and out Not a single doubt
You're welcoming and true You're hardworking and unapologetically you You're the sweet warm brew That brightens up my blue
I love the kindness you have I love the way you laugh I love being with you in a bath And the way you make me laugh
I never for a second thought That such a gift would be brought Into this sad cold world But here you our With every single flaw You own it You flaunt it I love you to pieces and bits!
You're like the snow I waited so long for you to show you came along My heart started to grow The crystals and cold The icy white snow You are a breath of cold wind Blowing on my face Making me feel this is my place My home My joy My happiness Maybe others don't understand But I know you are one hell of a man!
Consuming useless videos and content Alone in my room To distract from the racing and hurtful Thoughts about you And it always works for a moment Or a minute or more Until the intrusive thoughts come back, Barging down my door I put it back up, re-***** the hinges And shut it And lay back down to consume more Mindless content
Only that we get to forgive -n- forget That is what really matters!
Think about your anger. Does all that we get upset about really worth the toll on our lives that it takes. The cancer, the high blood pressure, the shot nerves we ened up with. Is it worth it? Or does it really matter?
Dear Self, You aren’t too kind to yourself, You always feel like a hologram of skin and bones, a wasted soul. Your mind runs ninety-nine miles per hour, yet you’re seated in place. You’re locked in place, fighting off that weather of weapons, all on your own. You smoke those cancer sticks, and BAM! All your stress seems to flow away, like a rushing river across the land. You stay up all night, you insomniac, you night owl, you can’t even bring yourself to get up in the mornings to slave away under those fat cats on top of society. I hope one day, you can find the courage to go back to being a motor mouth. I hope one day, you’ll go back to being that talented show stopper. I hope that one day. You’ll stop being such a dust kicker and get back on your feet. Just know that every chapter comes to an end, but at least we’ve anticipated this one against all the other endings we have yet to face
Fantasizing Feeling Needing Something scarce is eating at my melancholy. As I deliberate, a vigor burns beneath my blood. I get so warm thinking about his hands griping my hips. My cheeks flush at the thought of his skin pressed heavily against mine. Unalloyed ecstasy His subsistence is the key that reveals my coffer. I beg to feel his breathing For him to cognize how much I want to gratify his every desire. Slow motion when I fantasize. A room bursting of fine riches I could erupt with gratification. A gentleman who can pleasure me both with innocence and sensuality. Rarity that comes as one. He demonstrates loves configuration, he bestows complexity and certainty. One could ****** with the thought of his supportive charisma. I weaken at the awareness of his reciprocated needs. The definition of love is embraced through his actions. Bleeding perfection, he is untouchable. He makes me feel amity. He is the dream I want to feel as I shut my eyes at dusk.
I can sense him so close, yet when I open my eyes I’m alone.
The soloist closes their eyes and leans in to play their instrument, an intertwined movement as the musician and their tool becomes one. An ever so subtle look of one who loves to that which is intimate, knowing the sentiment that was formed now may never be undone.
The dance is bittersweet as the moment has already began to fade, a beautiful sight with the undertones of a melancholic symphony. Even though the house lights stayed a lit and the music swayed the musician could see the end coming of this moment so vividly.
This temporary music spreads out into infinity, where all is left is the memories. Notes and undertones that almost approach divinity, where all is left is the reveries.
The house lights went out, the soloist left gasping for air. Every delicate sensation overwhelmed but they didn't care.
Our nights filled with dreams of music as it drifts quietly off into the night sky forming into stars.