Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Revenant Oct 2014
Love is an open door,
but so are your legs.
Layla Thurman Aug 2014
For the longest time I was on my own
I had grown numb to the world around me
But then you took my hand
my whole world exploded
and suddenly all was bright
I could feel the wind tickling my hair
your hot breath whispering against my ear
The pure heat of our two bodies intwined
all in a single moment
Hips against hips
your hands in my hair
your lips pressed to mine
our two souls entwined, twirling
whirling through the air somewhere above us
We were like a force of nature
a hurricane or tornado
something destructive and wild

but it was so unhealthy
but I didn't care
I thought it was fun at the time
now here I am
stranded in the ruble
waiting for another storm to carry me along
I live off of them
drunk with the sheer emotion
then alone again I am
I feel no wind
no heat
no passion
nothing
I am empty
But **** was it fun for a while
Ruthie Aug 2014
I can't name or count how many guys I've looked at approvingly thinking 'I'd love to **** him' or whatever people say when they give that approving eye glance and nod thing. Of course I do it. All the time. I'm eighteen for gods sake. I can look!

However,

I can count all the guys I've genuinely fancied on both hands.

I can count the guys I've really liked on one hand.

I can count the guys I've kissed on *******.

I can count the guys I've actually called my boyfriend on one finger.

But that is not the man I love.

None of them are.

Because he's not a statistic.

He's a part of my soul.
Dont ever call me a ****. Ever.
Carsyn Smith Jul 2014
I've reached the point
where all I want to do
is scream; curse the world;
cry until no tears are left.
Girls who told me lies:
"no boy will come between us"
"we're friends forever."
How silly of me to think
they meant those bound words?
My heart hurts because of them
I loved them like kin
But how quickly they've left me
because of a bruise:
a small mark on my neck's side.
It's just a hickey.
But they don't want to be friends
with a "****" like me.
It's not my fault they're lonely
not my fault I'm loved.
I want to blame jealousy,
but I'm just running
to the arms of Patriarch
crying in His sleeve
begging for His forgiveness.
Because this hickey,
the same ****** mark as
scratches on men's backs,
marks me as a ***** ****
and him as a man.
But we're friends forever, right?
Or was that before
I had the gall to love him?
But that shouldn't matter, right?
Because something like
a boy won't separate us.
How stupid am I
to actually believe
I thought I found friends?
Girls are such terrible things
we deal in weapons
of silence, gossip, and blame:
things that do not show
things that will bleed the heart dry.
My heart is bleeding out: *D  R  Y
Just an angry rant full of tears, regret, and boiling blood.
Unrequited Love Jul 2014
Now my clothes are stained with the memory's of the boys that took them off.

The ones that never bothered to learn my middle name.

And I never found out their favourite colour...
I can't get dressed without a flashback now days
Chloe Nov 2013
These men,
They don't mind sharing us.
They just don't want to know with who.
Next page