#ignis - Hello Poetry

How I adore those fleeting moments Wrapped in lace and tender touches. Those intimate instances where the heart is flooded by butterfly kisses, and the body ignited by fire. I long for love's innocence By the voice you whisper late at night. I long for love's passion, By your lips pressed gently against my own. I long for love's warm embrace, By your arms when the world crumbles beneath my feet. But most of all, More than anything, I long for you. My love. My kerosene. I only wished, You longed for that love too.

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May 20, 2015

May 20, 2015 at 1:18 PM UTC

missmew

Drinking With Kerosene

How I adore those fleeting moments Wrapped in lace and tender touches. Those intimate instances where the heart is flooded by butterfly kisses, and the body ignited by fire. I long for love's innocence By the voice you whisper late at night. I long for love's passion, By your lips pressed gently against my own. I long for love's warm embrace, By your arms when the world crumbles beneath my feet. But most of all, More than anything, I long for you. My love. My kerosene. I only wished, You longed for that love too.

17

I am the rat. There are always roads that I can take, and always new places to be explored. I am compact, and I can fit wherever I want to go. There is always a surplus of food and I eat well. But sometimes, the food is poison and I am left with only my dying breaths. Some passages lead me only to being hit with a broom. I am called filthy and disgusting. But still I find myself smiling when I wake because it's **** well worth it being the rat. -ignis

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Apr 2, 2014

Apr 2, 2014 at 2:49 AM UTC

kastiel

Untitled

I am the rat. There are always roads that I can take, and always new places to be explored. I am compact, and I can fit wherever I want to go. There is always a surplus of food and I eat well. But sometimes, the food is poison and I am left with only my dying breaths. Some passages lead me only to being hit with a broom. I am called filthy and disgusting. But still I find myself smiling when I wake because it's **** well worth it being the rat. -ignis

26

I have spoken to the birds. I have asked them about how they know where it is that they're going, and every one of them revealed that they do not. They tell me that they just flap their wings and fly away and they don't need to think about where they're going because they rely on themselves enough to be assured that they'll end up right where they need to be. But how do you know where you need to be, I asked them, and they told me once again that they do not. They just rely on their wings to take them there. I wish I could have been brave and spread my wings and fly where I need to go as the birds left. But instead I stayed behind. At first I was ashamed of myself for not following suit but then I realised that maybe the reason I didn't fly was because I was already where I needed to be. -ignis

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Apr 2, 2014

Apr 2, 2014 at 8:39 PM UTC

kastiel

What the Birds Said

I have spoken to the birds. I have asked them about how they know where it is that they're going, and every one of them revealed that they do not. They tell me that they just flap their wings and fly away and they don't need to think about where they're going because they rely on themselves enough to be assured that they'll end up right where they need to be. But how do you know where you need to be, I asked them, and they told me once again that they do not. They just rely on their wings to take them there. I wish I could have been brave and spread my wings and fly where I need to go as the birds left. But instead I stayed behind. At first I was ashamed of myself for not following suit but then I realised that maybe the reason I didn't fly was because I was already where I needed to be. -ignis

43

Once I looked in the mirror and I saw myself, but not what I wanted to see. My reflection is distorted, but I look the same as in any other mirror or poem or drawing and I am left to wonder, is it the mirror that is broken or is it me? -ignis

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Apr 2, 2014

Apr 2, 2014 at 5:19 PM UTC

kastiel

Tales from the Mirror

Once I looked in the mirror and I saw myself, but not what I wanted to see. My reflection is distorted, but I look the same as in any other mirror or poem or drawing and I am left to wonder, is it the mirror that is broken or is it me? -ignis

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