A man can only write as much as what he holds behind his eyes
And if you were the last sight to see
I can guarantee that you needn't be surprised
If he runs away from such of sight, occasionally

Because the expression is either all about you or nothing at all
There is no in between such things
No inner lining between the eye and the mind
Of what a man has always seen, in you

There is just the wall in front of him
The key to turn, and the inanimate door to find
Don't take it personally
But a man can only write as much of what he holds behind his eyes

Sometimes the silence I sit myself down is...is a necessary silence. Time to reflect and prepare for the future. Other times its because I'm thinking too much and simply need to stop. Such thoughts are corrupting. They seep into my tongue and spoil the expression. Twisting the verse to fit the topic which is most prominently on my mind.

So you were for some time. As I was silent. #needed

By Arcassin Burnham


Most guys that have a sick infatuation tend go insane.
Looking for a different purpose for some love that everybody
Already has and been portrayed.
All your fantasies are stricken even in a state of mind to where
Your sexual desires bring,
Less to the plate than it was intended in a moment of abolishing
The virginity,
Still feeling lonely , I guess that'll never happen frequently,
But honestly,
In this whole thing,
I'd rather give up.
Can't have a girl that worries about the wrong things,
I wouldn't change,
Lifes a game,
I'm so obstacle stuck,
I swear they worry about the wrong things,
The wrong things,

But I know that I can't just give up,
Noone is perfect for someone to crave some perfect flesh looking
At the bottom of the sea Tangled up,
With someone else's fishing rod , why don't you go and meet them.

©abpoetry2017
http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2017/06/so-in-luv-2.html

It bends its back and cracks its spine
Out of sheer frustration
Much like a whip
For as it is, it seems to be, and ever will be
The unchangeable, and the uncommented

Much like the silent birds which breathe, yet are not without their own beauty
How they never sing, and will never speak of such things
Because this is how, and this is when
I know why the willow whips do weep

For as we are one and from the same
How they cry in silence, not out of vanity, but out of frustration
Because you, in stay, know no other way
Than to pass them by before they can speak

Of the way your footprints tread on the teeming dandelions
Leaving only the meadow left in pain
For you are so invested in your own sunshine
That you neglect to see and hear the same
That the willow whips now weep in pain

Source: Never to be revealed - But it makes me shake my head every time I see it.

how do we do this goodbye
if you are honest
for just this once
admit
face
the truth that you said goodbye
a long time ago
drift is too kind
euphemism for your indifference
my life no longer on hold


@journeyofdays

Few people are like "h" in honest,
Silently honesty exist...

Maria Imran Jun 1

The best and the hardest thing I did for myself was putting a price on my love.
You couldn't love me when you didn't love me entirely.
You couldn't love me only because you needed someone to have conversations with.
You couldn't love me because, and only because, you needed me.
To love me,
You have to be honest.
To love me,
You have to love all of me.

At some points in our lives, we have to draw margins for people. It's too painful, makes you a sorry state. Miserably so. But you have to cut away some ties, you have to know what you're worth, you have to live it strong and live it true. You got to love yourself most.

The worst illness available to man
Is not a fever of sorts
But fame
And the expectations stored within
That he has been solved
That he has been called by his true name
Which, ironically
Is never true at all

Because it's better to live in a house of wood
It's better to build without a name inscribed
Than to be called by all
And requested at all hours of the night  
Because what then becomes of life?
When you suddenly have
All of that which you have wished for?

For he is not free

And then suddenly you are there
And someone has come out of nowhere
And changed your life
For better or for worse
You are changed…but not me

Just one of many places they are, that I am not.
Lynn Al-Abiad May 15

Yes, I know that some nights I cross your mind and I know you still love me - with all the concepts you assign to that feeling, to which I don't necessarily agree, but I do think about you as well, and love you my way, not yours.
You might carry me with you forever. I hope you will. I hope my home in you has a garden planted with flowers, with a beautiful little home and a nice veranda to sit there with you in the sun whenever you visit me.
I will carry you with me, until I'm old and senile and start to forget everything, even my sons' names, but not you.
Your home in me now is surrounded by thorn wires, but the day will come when the war will be over and I'll plant you a garden full of trees to shade you.
As for now, I'm accepting my war, because you are the war.



- LynnAA

Things I need to know.

15/05/2017

You hide behind a curtain of insecurity,
blushing and allowing your eyes to fall
to the floor when they give you kind words
to follow and acknowledge. Deflection
is a skill so fine tuned and honed
that it's innate, a reflex built
into your body. Yet you never stopped
to think that they never had to say
those lovely things
and they chose to anyway because they truly
believed them. Perhaps it's time
for you to believe them too.

~~ "He didn't have to say that to you," is the best thing anyone could have said to me. ~~
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