Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oh how badly I wish
I wasn't alone in this.

Tornadoes swarm me and my feet touch the ground
But my head just spins.

Swarming me, beating me,
Bombing me, throwing me up and
Down and sideways
And I just want to stop.

Please, oh God,
Be still.

The stirrings within that you create
Might make me lose my will.
I'm not ok lol.
I feel your gaze,
my soul’s on fire,
you’ve set it ablaze
Lainey May 5
You call me intense.
What does that mean?
Does it mean I can’t feel?
Can’t think, can’t dream?
I can go with the flow, i can laugh, joke around.
I can dance like a dervish and act like a clown.
But I do everything with purpose and passion;
There’s not much I do in a frivolous fashion.
If intense means I care, emotions to see,
then call me intense, I’m happy to be!
LightToBurn May 3
If you think you can pass the force bubble lain around the fortress

Outlined by legions, whose skin is armored by the scales of the very

Dragon that circles the tower where I lay my head, lulled it's windy wings

If you are the shadow caught moving at side-eyes, that had me

Fooled for a minute (even I thought to cut back prescription)

However, it really was you, flesh, that made it this far without dying

A most horrifying way, that makes thieves wish they died by the dragon

Before they made it up the tower; if I can't make you wish their wish,

I'd have to admit: The audacity to have me spare a life---I like you
Afreen Apr 24
Your perfume,
drowns me
in your

As you stare,
deep into my soul
and fire me up
with your scent

Burning it,
into my skin,
as I seek you
amidst the lingering
Afreen Mar 25
Reach out to her rusted heart,
Play with strings of bonds,
listen to the rustic melody,
that awakens the fire,
that remained clandestine.
in her heart, so divine.

Breathe the fire in,
as you play the rustic melody,
Watch as you enlighten,
your soul with the fire,
and heart with mysteries,
waiting to be discovered.
Drowning in every cup of water,
Eaten alive by every human flower.
Sprayed by the punctured capillaries of a sickened mother.

The beating ocean,
The circulatory system.
Her veins filled with poison.
Breathing through the holes in her lungs,
Stored in her dissipating muscles.

The skyscrapers stand as gravestones on her head.
Beneath the soil, her children are all dead.
You think you're better,
Than who you are.
I know you better,
You are an animal.

Wallowing below your instincts.
Down on all fours.
The animal does not feel,
All it knows is survival.

You **** one another,
So one stays above the other.
No different than the animal,
No different form a carnivore.

To devour is survival,
It is how we stay alive.
Down here in the dirt,
Life feeds on other life.

Your belief that you are above your instincts is fauted when the hunger sets in. Reduced to a single thought, survival of the fittest.
You can try to outrun who you are, you won't get very far.
The animal inside you is waiting dormant.
It is always there, and there it will always be.
Bhill Mar 9
how often do clouds shadow your thoughts
floating in and around creating illusions
fantasies so real, so intense, but ever-changing
life occurs in those moments....

Brian Hill - 2020 # 69
tmartin Mar 7
when am weak
who do i call?
my God it hurts
i can’t be calm.
what do i do?
do i run?
i am tired of hate, tired of love
dug my nails into my arms
she turned left to my scars and questioned  
“what is my worth”
she turned left and questioned what’s my worth
Next page