Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Damaré M Feb 2017
Your beauteous archetype will never let you suffer the pain that most of us regular people face. Despite your rudeness, we will always make excuses to partake In your cuteness. You don't know how it feel to be forgotten about. Your heart never fell, in result of seeing someone who bailed holding hands with a more sightliness female. You have everyone's attention. How does pretty feel when pain is inflicted? Does pretty really hurt all along, or is that just a song? I'm venting through this poem because I can only imagine you being in my arms. The reality of you laying in my chest happily is slim to none. My confidence in myself is strong, but that only go as far as grabbing you by the arm, signaling you to come on. Utterances of "he's not where you belong". My aplomb is only dawn in comparison to his bodacious mannerism. You can't see anything wrong. But I can see it within you. Whenever I spy deeply, past your aesthetic definitive. As I forage through your lushness I stumble upon the truth. The naked truth. Fastuousness at it's best. Desolateness at it's worst. Blessed but hurt. A nest without a bird, a freeway without a curve, an intoxication without a slur, a feline with no reason to purr,  a sea otter without it's fur; basically a sentence without a word. Bleak; you worship the worthless, bargain yourself to be purchased so in result you are the first resort to a man with no purpose. How does it feel to be a self-merchant? Wholesale and your clientele being boys who are uncertain. If you were interested in men he will treat you like one with the womb in the front (womb-men), no matter how feral you were you'll b like his little ******. See you are the resultant of a posture that is too potent. When you're in motion, no guy can continue with focus. You were always told how bold that you looked without any clothes, but never reminded that your mind was the only thing you have left when everything else unfold. Hopeless; desirable but the story on how to be hereafter admirable was untold. "No matter how fine the statue is, overtime it will have to erode, it's the significance in the chronicle that we will always extoll"
buzz Jun 2014
Hey pretty lady.
How have you been?
I've been thinking of you
A lot lately.

Every time I look outside the window,
I see fewer and fewer trees.
Every time my head hits the pillow,
I think of you and I can finally breathe.

I wake up in the morning
Drowning in my dreams.
I wake up thinking of you
But these feelings are not what they seem.

I go through the day
Trying to let go.
I get so close,
But my heart says no.

Eventually I will
Have the will
To let go.
But for now,

You are the pretty lady, I don't even know.
Feedback is much appreciated.

— The End —