a whirlwind romance
spontaneous, sensuous it began.
Then broke off infatuation of love ever again.
her soft lips
were my pillows
to keep me safe
her eyes pull me in
ever so alluring
lost forever in her
im the words she wishes
i am the pain she feels at night
alone in the light
i am the melodies
she wishes to hear
the love she wishes to
the lust her heart
i am the daydream
she live in
i am her alternate realities
i am the thing she wishes
and the ones she never had
I fell in love with the morning
how you stumbled out of bed
when you first woke up
and how your eyes groaned with exhaustion.
The way your hands grasped my hipbones
while your lips stole the ending of my sentences.
Everyday with you felt like a month of Sunday mornings
with white bed sheets and lazy smiles.
That same morning, I fell in love with
the coffee shop down the street
and the way your asked for your coffee.
The ride home from your house
made me remember what Monday mornings felt like...
Somewhere in between falling
in love with our midnight conversations
that were exhaled through cigarette breaths,
interrupted by coffee stains,
and reading the love notes you had
written on my flesh,
I am in love with the presence
of your words
and the feel of your existence...
But I am not in love with you...
(C) 2016. Copyrighted 1 September 2016. Breeze. All rights reserved. Please quote poem with author name, poem title and date published if sharing to external sites without the link or/and if sharing an excerpt of the poem
She was another heartless soul
wondering around waiting,
waiting for a love that would save her
from her imprisonment.
Deep, dead, shackled and hopeless
he had her captured,
another skeleton in the graveyard of the hearts he stole.
She was in love with a demon
in all his evil ways she couldn't stay away
she was a feign, for the pain
addicted to this love laced in cyanide.
He knew his power, consciously poisoning her spirit, stealing her innocence and manipulating her mind...
for anyone dealing with toxic love
(C) 2016. Copyrighted 31 August 2016. Breeze. All rights reserved. Please quote poem with author name, poem title and date published if sharing to external sites without the link or/and if sharing an excerpt of the poem
It's funny how the feeling in your chest can be intertwined with the intense feeling of passionate love and the feeling of ultimate death
i dont ******* know what i'm typing. sorry.
is my still life.
I could hold
under my breath.
Then in one long
exhale of you
release a reluctant sigh.
You MUST listen and use headphones.
— The End —