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an
rose
told me
to let
my
tear drops
preform
in her
dream
let us write
this beautiful line to hold up an
?
















...
..
.
wanna
word dance
...
..
.
Poetic T Jan 2016
I inhale it, i inject it in to my heart. Its the dust
That penetrates my pores, that love I,ve been
Inhaling even though some times it has
Shattered my heart.

The dust of love is addictive, specially once
A heart is broken. More is needed to mend the
Cracks to mend the feelings. Shattered in this
Dust filled aching heart.

I am addicted to this dust, I need it for my heart.
I'm not the only one but there are dangers, because
If a heart is broken it can lead to your death.

Because some times the dust is not enough to mend,
The soul decays because it misses the other beat.
Fleeting and faint leading away from the heart.
DM Aug 2015
Love,
I confess, you are,
heavenly looking,
baby face, by universe.

Words drifting, over your,
lips, saying, i love you.
soften my flesh,
melted, my blood.
like, thawing, icy rocks.

Gentle, slushy, is your,
soul, how adorable,
angelic, shivering me.

O love.
There is no wrong to be as sentimental. It so nature.
Paul d'Aubin Jan 2015
Dame Maladie lâchez moi donc un peu !

Dame Maladie vous fûtes une compagne,
Empressée, aux soins jaloux.
Souvent c'était le nez coulant, plus que nature.
qui  donnait  au sinus, brûlures de vinaigre.
Enfant c'était l'asthme, d'étouffements suivis,
M'empêchant de dormir, autrement qu'en fauteuil.

Puis dans les années ou tant de sots font carrière,
Ce fut la Melancholia et des longues angoisses,
La sensation terrible de ne pouvoir écrire,
En tout cas au rythme que l'on m'avait fixé,
et les conseil idiots, de tant de bien-portants,
souvent suivi de honte de me voir méprisé.

Puis vint cet eczéma comme une fournaise,
Faisant brûler la peau, comme de,  feu Nessus,
La tunique brûlante, puis l'envie de gratter,
Qui soulage la peine avant de l'aggraver.
et mon corps désormais, prenant peur du salé de la mer,
dont enfant j'aimais tant à chevaucher les vagues.

Quelques années plus ****, l'intestin, à son tour,
Vint s'occuper de moi et me tenir prostré,
Car riz, charbon et coing restaient insuffisants,
Pour stopper les coliques qui me tenaient chez moi,
la position couchée devenant un refuge,
et seule la lecture me tenait compagnie.

Certes la Médecine est une grande Dame.
Que j'appris a connaître au delà du commun.
Elle sait bien soulager mais rarement guérir.
Et sa fréquentation n'admet point le divorce.
Un jour, peut être, hélas, mes sens s'apaiseront.
Mais pour un long sommeil qui se nomme la Mort,

Paul Arrighi
Arcassin B May 2014
BY aRCASSIN bURNHAM




Seeing all this in third person,
just doesnt do it justice,
perhaps you may become a surgeon,
or making pastries think and blisses,
is it safe to call you misses,
looking at the world around you,
or did i completely forget about you,
you made me give up my family,
too many people were about the betrayal,
and at the time did i see you as a threat,
at time only time could tell,
x3
get it,
you heard all things about me,
are they a witness,
calling to jesus,
is it safe to call you misses.
http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2014/05/around-you-full-version.html
D Apr 2014
You're not very far but you feel light years away
It's as if I'll never see that smile adorn your face
It's killing me to dream in a bed all alone,
Dreaming only of you
But am I really alone?

Maybe if I think about you enough, you'll finally appear
It's the law of attraction, I'll manifest you from my tears
You're 70% water anyway, if science is right
And if it just might work,
I think I'll give it try

First, I'll imagine your lips, pulling taughnt in a smile
It's quite attractive if I remember, though it has been awhile
Then the sound of your voice;
O, how it makes my tender heart
Rejoice

Next, your soft hands, running over the curve and dip of my waist
These memories, such sweetness.. I hope they don't go to waste
The taste of your lips as they move feverishly with mine,
These memories are surely fading
With the passing of time

I never knew which spice it was, but you always smell of spices
I can almost smell it now.. These five senses must be my vices
And you've still yet to show your face
Maybe I forget something..
Again then, just in case

— The End —