If my words could buy,
Someone like you,
I would deeply chew,
Over words to write more often,
If the words, I speak,
Were the ones you were fond of,
Then all of the words I pick,
Would hover around your beauty,
Like the bees flooding the garden,
With their 'hummmmms'
But, to my dismay
To you, my words are wierd
To you, my speech is a low gust
That couldn't influence your flowers into moving
That is why I write so less about you,
For my poetry, that I so dearly caress,
Might not be so poetic, for you to embrace
fingers tapping against your thigh, music note mumblings. subtract everyone else and watch the feeling
disassemble and reassemble the ensemble and allocate your earnings as earnestly as you can without appearing overeager. overhearing a conspiracy between my lips and your neck. a secret isn't a secret unless you whisper it, so do it, make sure the russians don't hear us as they rush off to give reports on that look I just gave you, the one that is oh so telling. reveling in it. living in the revelation of your skin, pouring down your presence like honey, like sweet molasses dripping thick and sweet, simmering under the sun, glimmering in the water like a jewel, jealous and tart, painful and dark and dazzling. beating only in anatomical hearts, out of tune, cacophony and cruel crimson, missing someone not something, left wanting and waning in the light of a lopsided moon, farsighted and fingers that prune in purple light rippling across the walls, willing to travel the planes of your body, embodied travesty traversing the sahara, dunes doomed to be swept away by the wind, breaking and kept away, each grain unable to touch one another more than once, gorgeous enough to be pain, staking your claim on misery before the misers bury it in their own backyards, backwards discovery, a convenient amnesia, believing ruses and runes to decipher in delicate dictum like tricking a language into translating itself.
almost too much of not enough.
Definition of Selfless: Putting others before yourself to the point where "you" don't matter anymore.
Definition of Pain: One of the two things that I believe all people have in common. The other thing? Love.
Definition of Love: --ERROR-- Lost in translation.
Definition of Nothing: Nothing...
Definition of Feeling You've got tons of it don't you?
Definition of Me: A personal title I call myself. Also known as "you" in a sense.
High and mighty and greater than "you".
Because "me", a self proclaimed name that doesn't deserve its definition. Because "I" am hurt, and in "pain", and out of "love", and too "selfless" to take care of "me". So that makes "me"...
this is me giving up
this is me surrendering
this is me saying i was never your worth
this is me finally leaving
to give you what you want
this is me in defeat
this is me saying that you were right all along
that i was the scum of the earth
and i had you always looking for so much more
I am earning for this addiction,
Craving for another touch and look see.
Holding my breath as I take another sip,
I am hoping I won’t get tipsy tonight on this addiction.
At this angel it looks quite painful,
Though my mind is so high on enchanting earning;
I can’t look away I am bewitched.
I am quite disgraceful, aren’t I?
Oh well, I am quite fine with being shameful,
As long as my addiction can be craved, no matter the cost.
Dipping down and going for the kill, making lust seep into another.
“You’re an ugly human being”, you scream,
I can only smile and continue being unfaithful.
Another kiss to cure my craving,
My addiction never can be fulfilled though,
So I soak in the bliss and then I am once again on the hunt.
I feel like picking up the pieces of my heart right now
While seeing him walking away from me
I begged and I even kneel down for you to stay
But everything seems not enough
Walking here in the pavement
While seeing the Shadow of my Broken Heart and Broken Soul
Hearing clearly the sound of my cries
Teardrops won't stop from falling
Because they're are a lot of things left undone
Words that are left unspoken
Now I am Left Hangin'
Would I still be able to receive the Answer?
For both of us know that you are a promise breaker
Laying in bed. Starring at the ceiling. Each beat of my heart is a thunder crack inside my head. I can feel the blood pumping through my eye, even though I can't see out of it. The swelling has half blinded me. My face, numb yet I can taste the blood filling my mouth. My knuckles, possibly the only pain I can feel. Cracked and bleeding. This isn't enough pain for what I've done. But I can barely lift my own fist. Slowly fading. This is too familiar. I don't deserve this pain. I deserve so much more, I deserve to be hurt so badly there is no healing. No coming back. I need to be hurt more. Or else She'll never feel safe.