Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
aj Dec 2018
I experienced
and I wrote:

When I think of you I feel like I am going to cry.
Well, I don't cry
but my stomach decides to cave in and collide with some sort of fluttering that feeds into my lungs
my heartbeat turns into more of a tick

into my stomach a small rock is dropped
it rolls around at the bottom
slowly it gets hot
the heat spreads up my throat and across my chest radiating down to where my elbows meet the inside of my forearms
from there, the energy pulses to my fingertips
its like buzzing but with the addition of tiny little ******
I feel that in my wrists

The heat grows heavier on my chest
now I feel it a bit behind my eyes
my hands that pulsed now throb along with my thighs
now the rock in my stomach decides to put press up on my spine
it tickles in a way that makes me want to laugh to relieve the pressure

I laugh but laughing leaves me feeling winded
my esophagus now thinly coated with a foggy thickness
the word that comes to mind when I think of it is dread

my spine is now a magnet that my ribs want to meet
I breathe out
they sink back towards my spine, reaching for something
my breathing feels forced but at the same time I can't control it

my thighs feel warm and almost swollen
my feet are already cold
each hair on my head seems to gain a pulse
certain ones even feel electric
the stinging in my nose tries to curdle my expression
I try not to let it
but my nose wants my cupid's bow and my jaw wants the corners of my mouth

the rock shifts around again, renouncing itself
my ribs suddenly collapse causing my to inhale my own exhaled breath
the stinging in my nose rides up behind my eyes and

(this is where I usually stop it, often with speech or with another laugh
images carry away sensation
I place them back into those mental pictures of pastimes and things potential and things yet to come, replacing the label with "sadness" with "hope"

knowing now that the rock is just my heart, it finds its way back up to the tiny box where it beats on the walls, constantly trying to find its way back out

I remember that hearts do good
I remember my lips, only then do I realize that they had gone numb
I think of warmth

the stinging in my arms, the picks and the pulses in my fingertips
those are the only things I can't beat
the energy at the inside of my elbows goes back up to my chest and  hovers over my heart

the hovering feeling never goes away

but I remember this energy is mine to live with and move on)

but if I don't stop, if there is a sense of weakness to my day
I feel the urge to smile almost
the burning in my eyes gets hotter, it usually comes in bursts
my vision turns to stained glass
the rock starts punching its way up my spine
my lower eyelids want to sink back towards my face, my eyebrows try to tie themselves in a bow
I try not to blink

now
If I'm lucky, my eyes tear up
If I'm not, tears roll down

my stainless masterpiece ruined by a contorted, conflicted smile-frown

I feel air on my tears
I breathe out and remember thought

my hands want to hold
my arms want to hug
my lips are numb but they know jut as well

that the catalyst has come full circle on this one, love
With this poem (monologue?) I had no intention other than to report with words the physical side of emotion. I just wrote as if I was reporting objective, physical sensations. My hope is to make this a series, maybe reflecting in this way within contrasting moments? Or maybe have other people report their own descriptions? Who knows where it will go. But please, enjoy.
Blake Nov 2018
Years have strayed my sensation,
My flame of contentment flickering away,
Fading
As my days and nights are spent,
searching for some longing intensity.

Why cant satisfaction caress me anymore?
Cheap wine and neon lights become my serenity,
Shading the truth that I've completely
Fallen.

Who am I right now?
My body is lethally sinful,
Deceiving my whole world,
That I'm still here
Remaining.

I've been to a manifold of mosh pits,
But I never really left my first,
I lost myself in a mosh pit


I can't return.
Online Definition: Moshing or slamdancing is a style of dance in which participants push or slam into each other, typically performed in "aggressive" live music. Moshing usually happens in the center of the crowd, generally closer to the stage, in an area called the "pit". It is intended to be energetic and full of body contact.
Eric Babsy Oct 2018
An open door
Closed windows
Looking into the depths of my soul
Can I really see anything
Or am I blamed for something I did not do
Can you catch a glimpse of what is truly in my heart
In my soul I am kind and free
Please take what you can from this and live
Waves come crashing down to destroy where we stood
Can you ever forgive for something I did not do
How and what you expect from me is not always up to you
If only there was no barrier in communication
From heat I drip condensation
All those sensations you have our nice and all
Passion comes from the truth inside
Not physical sensation that puts you on roller coaster ride
So united we stand divided we fall
You did this
You just say I do it all
Charlie Jul 2018
The problem is you want a sensation
You're searching for sensations like they're the only reason to be alive
You need to lift your head up to something that is greater than you can imagine
You choose to wonder about a mystery that you will never solve rather than cherishing the mystery that is inside you

I don't have the power anymore to hope
Everyday i'm hoping that you're going to understand that i can be your sensation
I am a mermaid that was sent to guard you for the rest of your life and everyone can't help it but listen to my songs except you
I can't look you in the eye anymore while knowing that you're throwing away the greatest gift you ever received

Someday you're going to realize that a sensation is nothing but the shadow of a door crack
You're going to turn around and expect me to be more than that
but your mind has already turned me into something that you can use to outrun your fear of being alone
John Koroko Jun 2018
I can still hear the cicadas,
their inescapable and deafening hum.
They are the only thing I can hear,
and you are the only thing I can see.

Dry green canopies of less oft seen gums.
Rocky outcrops for zen water to trickle through.
I can still feel my heart beating to your drum,
the only thing I can feel.
His lips pressed against my skin like raindrops that fell gently upon my cold body. So gentle, so close. His love for me transformed, it grew until my skies were covered and his world was all I knew. The sensation he gave me was captivating, for I had always loved a storm. His smile hit me like a blinding streak of lightning, and it made me feel infinite. I was so lost in the thundering words that echoed in my ears, I was so incredibly obsessed with his hands and how they held me so tight, and I forgot that storms always come to an end. Slowly the raindrops stopped falling over my body so fiercely, his words ceased from thundering as they faltered to an echo. A memory. The ghost of his lips remained, like my love for him. Since the storm dispersed I sometimes fall in puddles of our forgotten love and I wish for the storm to return. A storm may be beautiful, but it will not last forever.
Taiwo Olufemi May 2018
I checked my time
It was around nine in the night
I looked up at the sky
You should ask me why
Something seems strange
It is not a mirage
The Stars are shining full
The Moon is quarter full
The Sky looks beautiful
This does not happen everyday
It is on the eighth of May
Around nine in the night
And things are looking moderately bright


I stood up from my seat
Just to wonder around
Green grass beneath my feet
This shows good soil abound
I sighted the fireflies flaunting their light
I heard the toads croaking with their might
I saw some flies flying away with fright
I noticed the gentle breeze of the night
I felt alive
This sensation does not happen everyday
It was on the eighth of May
Around nine in the night
And things were looking moderately bright


Something again occur
Nature was showing her Jamboree
When I saw it I concur
I could't help but to agree
A meteorite stylishly slowly decidedly descend
Contemporaneously with an aeroplane cruising westward
Its sound as if it's a firework
Its flashlight merging with the satellites and the starlight
Sizzling the sky with spree of synchronized light
This illumination does not happen everyday
It is on the eighth of May
Around nine in the night
And things are looking moderately bright


Here I am still wondering about
Free I am real round about
This World is not always a beautiful place
Round the years? Round the months? Round the days?
Across all the continents through the Asia
What makes today so special?
I believe the Heavens are smiling on me
Even the Earth agrees to it
Cruel creatures couldn't conflict
Nurtured Nature nicely nods to it
All these are on the eighth of May
Around nine in the night
And my star is realistically ready to shine its light
Rayne Victoria May 2018
His voltaic caress courses through me
As his fingers bloomed into flowers
And his breath a soft breeze on my skin.
His voltage electrocuted me
My confidence amplified as the words
Rolling off his lips
Found my ear
And charged my veins
When it reached my heart.
Skin on skin like no other magnetism
A breathlesss sensation
From such an opulence of love.
His true electricity so overwhelmingly paralyzing
So overwhelming that my desire
Had devoted to hydrating itself
Under the waterfall of his affection,
His current perilous but phenomenal
As it coursed through my liquid love.
And no other contingency could execute
The inadequacy and animosity I held from myself
For the lightning that struck from his heart
And radiated from his hands
Convinced me otherwise.
A galvanism so tremendous
Emitting when the crevice of his lips
Closed around my neck
And up to the roses blossoming from my face
Igniting
A spark.
Kyla Duncan May 2018
every fleeting moment
of an accidental touch
a stolen brush of fingers
grazing skin
of eyes met across a room
of whispers
of secrets
shoots a thrill through me
because it brings me closer to you
Next page