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like there's fire fighting ice in the pit of your stomach
like your insides have disappeared  
like a spirit has swept through your chest
like a weight is pressing in on your skull
like the temperature has just dropped ten degrees
like you're watching yourself from above
everything is surreal
because please, God, this can't be real ...
I can only remember experiencing this feeling a few times in my life, and every time it's been unbearable.

If I were you I'd be healed hearing your voice because your beautiful lilt of voice scares illness away, think of you all day, glee all the way. Can't believe I'm fallen again, and your love ****** my pain. Happy for me to have you with me. My love. Good morning honey !
Mitch Prax Dec 2020
Perhaps we
are both addicted
to the sensation,
the euphoria,
the madness,
of loving from afar.

Somewhat astonishing, sort beauty, pride of humanity. Fresh and fly.

Electronic sensation, 'gaped' That posture, exclusive structure.

Oh! I been driven by attraction. Sublime perfect killing legs, and tantalizing stares.

Beauty springs from within her
like well. It
doesn't runs dry.
Felt it teeming
down her mind.

****** beauty is
a sign of a
gleeful soul.

Every styles
of hers may
make a poet
exhausts his
Dante Rocío Aug 2020
I am on my own
a Lighthouse Keeper
amidst the Night,
each fly,
in some presence:
coalition of a duty protruding
by thoughts,
stories and
what’s exquisite
in sensations that
need guarding,
and then enjoined
with that never ending standing,
time lapping,
and all that taking place
in the ink hues with
scarlet pulsing as if hurt,
in baby blue
and lilac
by a sacrality
to me solely
held out
a string
to never let go
This hereby is what each dark reading, watching, listening or passing on purpose works for:
A night shift, to guard the ideas, stories and lives That choose me and occur to me
By the lessons from God’s library
I receive due to the wish
To be of Their world, not of this.
It is a constant duty to carry out as a guardian.
Ces Aug 2020
The sensation of one's vitality
is the doorway to a deeper understanding
of exquisite inner joys
and the tranquility of being.
Just Grace Jul 2020
Doesn’t have to be a bad word
Doesn’t have to mean “empty”
And “missing”

When I listen
It means there is a container
Wrapped tight
And taut in something warm
The hide of a once wild
and free animal
is now a fate reverberated
as another passionate, wild being
Strikes it
Sparks the potential aflame
Into a sprout of a heartbeat

Or it is
The fog
Once aimless and reaching
Until it finds a lighthouse
Its beam also reaching for it
So when light strikes the micro droplets
Each effervescent molecule
Is lit in the turn of the path
In each passing round
An orchestra plays

That is the word
To me
contemplation of the quality of a sound sample while producing a song
Just Grace Jul 2020
Tinkered lullaby
Pastel my waking life
Love notes, in melodies
Score my nights
Loop endlessly
Delicate feathers
Primal heartbeats
Serenade me into insanity  

You set the tempo
I lay the drums
You do that bittersweet color
My voice will ache, though
Catch it, mood-layer
Send it
Repeat, player

Green room,  your living room
Headphones, lie on the floor
Give me your most beautiful dystopia
Inspire me, please show me more

I can’t see you, so join me in the liminal place
Melancholy, ache
Love me through the waves
Plush vibration, touch my face
Float me through your dream
Whichever path it paves

When it crests over
Your eyes are the conductor
Make my skin reach, my body rise
with the orchestra swells
We haunt and torture
Layer upon layer
I’ll never truly sleep

I'll look for you
You'll look for me
Then I hope we land.
Abraham Mar 2020
Throw down
Cruise deep
interesting views
through your sleeping curls
and thighs.

Remember the party!
Laze under blue pearls
drums like lemon shots
and cocoa shells.

Cruise into your sleeping curls
and thighs.
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