You my friend
    
                Mistake stubbornness

                                            For *Strength

Have you ever tried to catch a feather in a gust of wind?
It's in your fingers it's in your hands
then it slips away, and - it's gone again
I am a feather in a gust of wind you'll see me once
but never twice and I'll be kind. Yes, I'll be nice
but I'm your mystery that adds some spice

I never stay I always go I'm the answer you'll never know

I am floating past you above the ground
moving faster than the speed of sound
slowing down in a playful way just to make you wish I'd stay
casting magic in the air I cast illusions on my way

I am a feather in a gust of wind I slip away then I'm gone again
like a mystery you want to know
you'll wish you knew where I go
I'm the feather you can not catch cause' I'm the girl you'll never know

Two fish shaped wet eyes, intently gaze,
while expressing pain, disarmingly implies
a sweetness, specially meant only for him
that too, apt  in that particular context,
when his antennae all are up, receptive.

He wants to kiss, those eyes,
as his eyes catch that special moment, poignant,
wants to taste it and make the sweetness all  his.
That sweetness, a bait, but he isn't aware,
with a deft dab of emotion,makes him melt,
paints her vulnerable, yes, a damsel in distress,
prods him to be chivalrous, the next moment.
How the salty pearls rolling down her cheeks
play naughty games with unsuspecting tender heart,
concealing  the puppet play in which men and women excel.

You ripped apart my soul, I no longer wish for someone's arms to be wrapped around my body. And just as you always do, you came back, just like that. Not because you miss me, not cause you love me. But because you are a killer, and killers always come back to their crime scene

It's like having your hands bound
While someone stabs your heart
Except you did the binding
People say it's brave
But it doesn't feel like it
Cowardly
is more like it
Peel back your skin
To see your broken bleeding
Throbbing
still beating heart
The embarrassment caused
is like ******* yourself
but
similar to that warmth you
experience
When you share yourself with
your love
it is more than worth it

the last text i got from her said
"I don't want to go to work"
it was a saturday afternoon
i was asleep
and i didn't reply

that was a month ago
i've tried contacting her since
but to no avail

i miss my best friend
i need my best friend
i want to cry to her
i want her to cry to me

at times like these
i need her most
when it's 1am and im vulnerable
my thoughts race

becca come back to me
tell me what i did
to send you away
i ruin every friendship

The silence is too loud-
the background noise is making my ears ring.

I don’t know how much longer I can tune it out.
I don’t know how much longer
I can control my mouth
from wandering away on your forehead
and your cheeks
and your collar bones.

I’m sorry if I end up picking you dry,
I just have a lust
for love that seems
to be perpetually unsatisfied.

It cannot be denied I am a fiend,
but to tell you what you do not know
would destroy my pride and
most likely cause your retreat.

How do we go about telling them how we met?
Am I just a bet?
Or just the best that you could get.

I can't help but be cynical towards your approach and
you unfortunately
meet the status quo.

The more I get to know you
the more apparent it becomes
I’ll never be able to control you;
nor will I want to.

My freedom is contingent on yours
as well and it may leave us
in a well

but then we will
finally be alone
and forced to talk and
what if you choose to break it off?

Well then off I go like I had planned for you
the whole time,
zip away on a plane like
I am riding white lines through
white winter skies.

When your hands are on the
insides of my thighs
I can only adjust in passive-
aggressive consent
that could easily
be misinterpreted-
either way.

Don’t let my terrible,
smooth,
icy skin
be the only reason you stay.

I am a hypocrite at best-
hand up my dress and
you biting my lips
like you know I like.

Is this what it’s like to be a grown up?
They say always a bridesmaid,
Well for me?

it’s always the couch.
Never graduating to the ascent
required
to tumble onto the pocketed recesses
of the spare mattress.

I often wonder if
I am simply
The World's Best Unpaid Actress.

C.e.M. 11.22.14

Drowned out emotions

World War III perceived in his eyes

Not the first or last time

He wanted to tear his eyes out

The last sign of his vulnerability

But when you catch him smiling

Oh that smile—

For a beautiful second,

My own demons stop shooting bullets

To stop and stare

He lured me in
I fell for it
He took control
I was so young
Body count was triple my age
I felt alone every night
Every old man who touched me
Every man who took a part of me during the night sky
Every man who hurt me
Killed me each year
My mind is mentally gone
I can't think on my own
All I want is help to live again