Why do you persist? Do you have any idea? What I’d do If passion pricked my chest I’d move a million mountains Still the seven seas Drench the deathly deserts Fling flames in frosted forests Slay Hercules in his sleep In order to cradle You a little closer And nip at your neck
19 dictionaries stacked on the shelf near the blackboard 19 papers i have lying on my desk 19 thoughts inside my head 19 people sitting around me 19 threads lying lonely on the floor 19 pencils scratching 19 florescent lights bearing down upon my weary eyes 19.
i found the number 19 in the "words" section of the website and decided to write about my class. there are, in fact 19 people in my class, which is pretty cool.
As a drenched, drowned bee Hangs numb and heavy from a bending flower, So clings to me My baby, her brown hair brushed with wet tears And laid against her cheek; Her soft white legs hanging heavily over my arm Swinging heavily to my movements as I walk. My sleeping baby hangs upon my life, Like a burden she hangs on me. She has always seemed so light, But now she is wet with tears and numb with pain Even her floating hair sinks heavily, Reaching downwards; As the wings of a drenched, drowned bee Are a heaviness, and a weariness.
I don’t want to be a, “Good Person” Or rather, Not if you have to tell me, I’d rather die, Then hear someone tell me I’m nice, You’re so nice, You’re a good guy, Gratefully with twinges of gluttonous ego I accept, In spite of myself, Perhaps I’ve been groomed to act, Act nice to be complimented, Act as a good artisan to appease all.
Humans never cease to appall me, With ways to be unwarrantedly wareful, And secretly subconsciously submergent, So I remain watchful of myself.
Ah it's cold and I have a hard time holding this pen like I used to
So I unfold I'm convinced of my crime hiding in my den like I'm used to
And I've been holding on dreaming, fading, tired for so long I remember your voice Can I ever hold you can I ever have the choice I'm not used to
Why is it being so ******* me how am I always wrong when the voices tell me I'm free but really all I want is to belong Anything could be better Nothing is the matter
It's alright go back to sleep it's just another lonely night I'll feel better after I weep til tomorrow another gloom wraps me in trivial sorrow, For you I'll go catch the moon your blanket looks warm, just tonight, can I borrow If you don't need me, I promise I'll leave soon I'm used to
I miss the smell of you in bed I miss the way you kiss my head I miss your hand on mine I miss the way you‘d say I look fine I miss your hugs and their encapsulating safety I miss the way you made my mind act crazy I miss our laughs and emotional talks I miss the days we would go for short walks I miss sitting with you in close proximity I miss the way you looked at me in a certain vicinity I miss your smile most of all I miss your voice echoing down the hall I miss your eyes and their gorgeous luster I miss my inability to find words to muster But I think about it now and I miss none of that Instead I just think how I want you back Because I don’t miss your worldly qualities Instead I miss your quirky little oddities Everything about you is beyond this existent I’ve hit the point of full on admittance I’m in love with your soul and your being Of course I’m also in love, sweetheart, with what I’m seeing But I want you for you and not what’s outside The day you left me part of me died I hope to see you again in my dreams That’s all I have left now, so it seems
Internal winds that wail with might A sudden outpour of downpour Distress accelerating Into regions physical and mental Untangling its hair of horrors So that miniature hells hail And free will and free thought, Take the brunt of the damage Now paralysis is peppered over all But with one sneeze vigor is awakened So see all is interlinked For natural disaster And natural remedy Are naturally destined to occur
Agony. seemingly everlasting, allows the muse to come and through the curls of her hair my fingers run.