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Erian Apr 11
I'll tie the loose strings
Around the glass bottle
Slip in the letter
And throw it out to the sea
Hoping someday you'll read it
With my name scribbled at the edge

Your not so secret admirer
Erian
How fast plans
can change.
One minute you're working,
and then...
BANG!
You slip,
you fall,
you break your hand.
Sorry,
change of plans.
I hurts my writs unexpectedly right before my major piano concert.
Oops, change of plans.
Pagan Paul Jan 31
.
O where doth he wander my love,
the genius in cloth of the fool,
disappears with a wave of his motley glove,
and exits with the laugh of the cruel.

O where doth he roam my dear,
the costumed professor of musing,
a snap of his fingers, off he clears,
and leaves without permissive excusing.

Where doth he wander and where doth he roam?
He is upon a path so very far from home.
Look, see, his feet fall on shards of mica stone,
and the stars are all writing his story tome.

Where doth he roam and where doth he wander?
He is upon a path promising insanity yonder.
Look, see, take a moment to think and ponder,
is he an outcast or a willing absconder?

O where did he go my sweet,
the flaw that showed his cracks,
he left so quiet and incomplete,
the man who may never come back.




© Pagan Paul (27/01/19)
.
syncopation Oct 2018
As the days roll into nights
And the nights back into days
It’s just too easy to have time slip away.

But just as the rivers into the seas flow
For this we have but little control

And as we get older for some reason
Time seems to move faster

But that is a misperception you see
For it is when we have little left it becomes as clear as can be

Just as an hourglass drains
At first imperceptibly slow
Until the final sands of time begin to show
By then like a whirlpool
It seems to succumb to gravity’s pull

Where did the time go
Will we ever know.
Nigist Oct 2018
The devil dancing in plain sight
When your eyes
glamorize mine
Makin me fantasize
Bout your face between my thighs
Straddle up
From the side
Hips peak high when you choke me as I reach my
****
I love when you ****** it from behind

Let me, keep you in mind
As I slip into something more casual
Slow
Grind, wine
Twisting my tongue letting you unwind
Where my throat flirts with the tip of your boat
Slip N Slide until unified

Let me, take my time
I'm talking knee pads on Valentines
Tryna elevate our vibes
Gates Wild Ride
&
Rotate on cloud 9
Body attentively inclined
To tell you all my
Secrets
Hung to air dry
- ****** dominance keeps me in line
- Kiss up along my spine
- Grip me right, tight
*Like, be Curious & **** this cat nine times
Now pay those crime fine
****** deep in my walls
Rock it til waterfalls
& watch me flood you like high tides
Meet & Greet our *** with sunrise
& bittersweet goodbyes...

I finally found the courage to speak my mind
I'm not so sure that I'll be yours but baby you could be mine

8:47 PM

#TheHIMCollection #DarkMagicCollection
*Dark Magic is not the real title; That's my abbreviation/shorthand for it.
Riley June Sep 2018
just bury me alive,
fill my lungs with ash,
fold my arms so I may rest,
leave flowers to welt on my chest,
place a rock over my head to remember my name,
will you soon forget me,
one night my voice will slip your mind,
soon my face will fade too,
for the time I have left try and remember,
i'll have your mind soon enough.
Nicole Dawn Jun 2018
The flashing lights
A dance of your life

Spinning
Spinning
Don't stop spinning

The music thrums
Your body twirls

Around
Around
Can't stop moving

The drinks are sweet
Your mind begins to slip

Falling
Falling
Just let it slip away

The flashing lights
A dance of your life
Kendall Jun 2018
I could feel my decline.
I could hear the call.
I could feel my grip loosen and hers tighten.
So I did something I should have done a while ago.
I left...
KM Hanslik Apr 2018
My fingers don't know how
to hold things properly
they know how to tremble and how to crush and they know the weight
of their actions,
because their actions have never been
very conducive to healing.
My chest doesn't know
how to hold things gently, it knows
how to break open and pour shards of glass
into the palms of others, it knows
the sandpapery grit left behind, but it never learned
how to love gently
only how to tear things open from being
too full.
My hands are warm, they ask
before they touch things. What ever happened to
giving permission?
My heart is soft, it stirs easily at
the smallest tug of things, but I can't
teach it how to love without
breaking open, and I can't teach myself how
to hold things properly.
Maybe I'll always break
a few pieces before I learn
to do it right.
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