#myjourneytoselflove
A world that breathes and sleeps
Deep within the depths of my soul
Yearning for power
Yearning for freedom
Infecting my essence with a desire of great fortune
Lost among the pages of the past.
Resistance is futile
It breathes life into me, this creature
It molds its character between my flesh and blood
My thoughts fall as prey to its consumption
My conscience falls to its knees before it
To this, my desire for paradise
---AuroraRW
Aug 14, 2019
Aug 14, 2019 at 1:30 AM UTC
I'll take my heart,
I'll wrap it well,
I will send it to a place no one will tell.
I'll hide from you,
I'll hide from me.
I'll send it through the floor,
I'll send it above the roof,
Did I leave my heart in London?
Did I leave my heart in Tokyo?
I think I left it by the queen,
Or I threw it in a dream.
No one knows how to bring it home.
---AuroraRW
Aug 14, 2019
Aug 14, 2019 at 1:26 AM UTC
When I’m around him
I lose my voice
When he touches me
I shiver, a little
The heat from his body
Warms me
His kisses…
Intoxicate me
His eyes,
Is where I lose myself
With the beating of his heart,
My skin vibrates
For him, my heart burns with desire
---AuroraRW
Aug 14, 2019
Aug 14, 2019 at 1:29 AM UTC
To arms for all my heart and sleep,
My soul and body for him they weep,
A hurt in my head, a scream in my stomach,
No morsel of food to ease my sorrow,
My love in my eyes be with me till morrow,
For fear and worry hath made me weary,
Can always forgive, but never forget,
To love him dearly without fear or regret.
---AuroraRW
Aug 18, 2019
Aug 18, 2019 at 7:56 PM UTC
She can do no wrong; she can do no right.
Her heart hidden in shadows so dark and angered,
Her spirit frozen, in a time of love beyond her reach.
Her thoughts wail for attention, clawing at her every move.
“He’s real, he must be” her mind would hiss.
Of his beautiful face, tis but a made-up dream.
But her body weeps and spasms for one, for whom?
She knows not.
Her body begs and pleads to be released from such a burning torment,
But to her demise, the pleads are in vain.
For every fiber of her core believes in his touch,
his words,
his spirit,
his head,
and most of all his heart too.
What more is truth,
than the pain of lies?
She sits alone with a heart so weary,
She has become consumed by her own madness.
A madness of a made-up falsehood.
---AuroraRW
Aug 25, 2019
Aug 25, 2019 at 12:16 AM UTC