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paschelco Aug 23
I once pride myself on my ability to be unreadable .
maybe I still do , who knows .
there is this comfort in not having anything to lose ,
or so it seems .
but there's this thing in your smile...
I've never been one for reassurance but those two words were all that I didn't know that I needed to hear .
there is solace in knowing that I can feel .
maybe I don't want anyone to feel it the way I do .
your laugh makes it all undeniable ; I can't help but look and wonder where you've been .
how was life back home? any cobblestone roads?
I'll wear my heart on my sleeve and try
maybe you'll help me get the confidence I fake .
Cora Mar 11
why did i trust you enough
to let you see me bleed?
we bleed for monsters who look a lot like saints.
RedD Sep 2018
You got me drunk
You got me ******
Invaded my weakest moments
So desperate to please
To feel something
I had my doubts

I told you what I liked
Hoping you liked the same
We tested the waters
Pushed the boundaries
Learning together
I had my doubts

You punished me
Took my breath momentarily
Hurt me, made me want more
I came to you for all of this
You made sure
But I had my doubts

I got me drunk
I got me ******
Feeling everything but nothing
I had my doubts

From the haze I awoke
Standing on the filthy kitchen floor
No longer in doubt

I didn't want to hurt
Didn't want to get drunk
Didn't want to get ******
Just to feel something

I had to let you go
To get on with your life
Of getting drunk
Of getting ******
I like to think you've changed
But I have my doubts
One of the hardest points in my life recently, at my most vulnerable. Luckily I woke up
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2018
Upon reading I stopped.
Savoring this touch.
I serached for narrative, your voice becoming my imagination.
I made this read much longer than intended.
Rereading each page minutes after the initial first.
We both paused.
Stumbling over each period.
Passage after passage the last chapter revealing just how beautiful everything is.
With neither joy or pain canceling each other out, both are necessary.
A paper cut made in haste.
Just as telling.
The intense angle each word represents.
The physical manifestation of not being able to move my eyes from the page.
Loud noises created in silence.
It seems real. Its chaos.
Four seasons coming into one.
This is life.
At least for me.
Rereading each volatile word finding vulnerability.
A sudden fear that rises.
A response that I over analyze in simplicity.
You write and I read.
A deeper motivation that isn't fear at all.
The pages collapsing in recommendation.
The intimate truth of holding everything in.
The cover hesitant of letting go.
All awaiting permission
Vida Crow Sep 2016
Someone has cut my strings, Love
And now I sit here(vulnerable)

You take me in your (bitter)hands
And toss me against the wall

And as I slump against the broken glass
I think
Maybe it was you

[Someone is wailing]
*[Maybe its you]
pin May 2015
Can these feet be killers
& stab the concrete,
If only the ribs would come, and lie lie lie,
My wet streets, my wet cheeks,
My porcelin toenails break, sweat down cheeks race,
Eyes they started,
Deep breathing on & onoff,
Deep breathing on & on off,

— The End —