#tpj
From the depths of the ocean in your body, I always tend to find the geysers of satisfaction.
Breaking your body down in ways that make the profession of love minor to us both.
When we speak, the words flow like waterfalls that chip away the ice around your frozen soul and bring the heat of a thousand ages under frost now freed of the gymnophoria, the mental ********** that society does to it.
You are opened.
My cocoa skinned Cinderella, chocolate to the taste and caramel to the senses.
You are my forbidden treat that I indulge in with inconsistency, and when I leave, you always melt into the hands of evil habit.
Tears in the eyes of which I had only known happiness, story upon story uncovered on your emotion and the only thing I could do is ****** comfort you with the sailing a sad ocean.
I never did tell you I loved you, and now I regret it.
Maybe if I would’ve said that word, that rope wouldn’t have ended around your neck.
Maybe the wry smile of mischief wouldn’t have been replaced with the scowl of a year in love’s drought.
And with the tears you cried for me, I made my armor, an armor of strength I got from pushing you away, covering my shoulders in snake skin and play the role of deceiver, for as you know, all us snakes love the rain.
You would clasp my picture and cry as if I had died, thinking too much of me and directing me message after message after message until my inbox and voicemail were full, and I ignored you.
I pushed you to it with my promiscuity.
“No love for the loveless”, they said. “All hearts are equal in the eyes of god.”
I tried to return your call last year, but I only got the voice of your mother, maddened in disgust and rage in me and crying when she saw the caller ID with a heart on it.
She told me what happened, and I dropped the phone and cried.
This is the love rain: the rain that only emotion can inspire, for I thought I felt nothing for your innocent soul, but as it turns out, you were my everything.
And losing you to suicide was my worst mistake.
Sep 9, 2016
Sep 9, 2016 at 9:42 AM UTC
If I get to wish upon a rose tonight
All I want is to see your golden eyes.
I love the way your skin dances in the heat with not an inch of sweat while daunting your perfection.
I love the way your eyes glisten as you catch a moonlit grace from heaven, so beautiful you offend the sun.
I love the way your body sways as your hips swish when you know I’m watching. You’re too seductive for your own good.
But if I could wish for anything, I’d wish for you to drop the act.
Take off that **** make-up, your skin’s beautifully dark brown, don’t change it.
Get rid of that girdle, dear god those his curve without it.
Take off that wig and those fake nails, baby girl, I know your nails look tacky, but your imperfections are perfect so tell me why you need to look like someone else.
And of all the things, take out those blue contacts, for though I know the true color is brown, I can’t see the façade when your contacts are out. I can see naught when I stare at you
Nothing but your golden eyes.
Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 8:23 AM UTC
Take me to the place where lovers play.
Where the word love is on the tongue of each person who passes by and the jitters of emotion break us down and build us as twin towers of faith and infatuation.
Roll me down a river of finality, telling me sweet things in order to keep me close to you with little lies that make me love you.
Show me the tip of time and take me past it. Let me now that I’m a possibility for forever and that I’m forever going to be close to you. Show me that I’m wanted, that I’m needed, and you don’t want to change that.
Kiss my lips with sincerity and whisper your thanks to the lord into my ear with a seductive air. Because your voice is so beautiful and your lips so sweet that you take me back to times when we first courted, times when the deepness of our love was judged on how many tics the clock made when the phones were on.
Take me to the most sensible form of tenderness and let me teach you how to surpass it. For the threat of love is my only danger, and I remedy the fears pragmatically.
Is it ok to admit I’m in love? Tell me now, because I’ve been burned before. I’ve had the knives of deceit stab my heart before, and I didn’t like it. So Let me know how far our love can go before I need to jump ship.
Tingle my soul and make me shiver with the electricity generated by your feminine touch. You always start the wonder every time our skins connect.
Take me on a journey that sends me into Neverland with you by my side. I could care less where we go, so long as we are together, it won’t register which direction I’m walking in. show me that pretty smile and tell me it won’t matter to you either. Take my hands and lean in close to me, catch a breath and let it out slow just staring in my eyes.
And I will know where to take us.
You take me to the place where lovers play.
The little bit of space where time doesn’t agree with its surroundings, the place where we could stay an eternity just thinking about how we could spend our time together.
Lover’s land.
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 11:16 AM UTC
My skin is soft and my mind unexperienced.
Like cotton right off the stem.
And when animosity hits it, I tend to be unprepared for such topics.
My body goes through constant cycles of supposed purification
Like the separation of the cotton from its seed and the bleaching of its fruit.
So when I realize my impurity, I tend to reject myself. For I feel that others would anyways.
My blood runs through my organs, and is altered in my heart
Like cotton being twisted to threads.
I crystalize like cane sugar as it drips off its heat made daggers, and I crush to dust under the weight of every decision that I make.
Apr 14, 2016
Apr 14, 2016 at 10:57 AM UTC
Lies...
I’m so ******* sick of them.
I’m so sick of the people who claim they love you telling them.
I’m so sick of accepting them. I’m tired of hearing them being told about me and me having no way to defend myself from them.
I just wish us truthful people would be able to grab them out of the air and stomp them out on the ground.
But if that could happen, I guess I’d be in jail for assaulting everyone whose claimed to love me.
Mar 30, 2016
Mar 30, 2016 at 11:08 AM UTC
She had me on the brink of chastity
Addicted to honeyed lips and cinnamon spiced ***
She had my mind on the brink of loyalty
Enslaved to her body and chained to her commands like the loyal hound curled at her pretty red toes.
She had my body on the brink of chaos
For once I wasn’t able to touch her, I was able to realize how different we truly were, but it bugged me enough to form a need of confirmation through alleged ****** connections.
She had me on the brink of love
No, I never would admit it, but I was hoping with all my heart that she and I would never separate, and I guess that was my mistake.
Maybe I can now be at peace with my decision to leave her alone, but now my body aches from what I was trying to form, a bridge burned on the receiving end and yet I still tried to build with the girl who torched it in the first place.
Oh How Naïve Our Heart Can Make Us
Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 10:10 AM UTC
Single relationship
I told myself that I’d be a complete social chameleon, said I wouldn’t let anyone dictate what I liked.
Turns out they were both lies.
I told myself that I’d love me more than anyone else ever could, I said that my strength would be what ran my environment.
Guess that wasn’t to be.
I itch for a relation but run from relationships.
And I hate it so much that it burns like copper coils.
It invades my lungs like air
and breaks me down like bad *** kids near cardboard boxes.
But for some reason I identify with it now, it’s like, I’m intimate with loneliness.
I can caress its jagged edged emptiness with the warmth of my fingertips at any given day, and it always responds.
I can speak into its bitter silence and feel the echoes reverberate back to my lonesome ears, and it feels like I’m hearing someone else with my voice.
I can kiss its luscious darkness and combine with it anytime imaginable, and it makes me feel loved by simply everything.
You can call it a wish. You can call it imagination or depression.
But regardless of what you think, I’m in a single relation.
And I hold hands with it proudly.
Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 8:06 PM UTC
She explained it to me, told me all that she could about it and how she hated it.
Tears were in her eyes as she explained the pain she felt from the heartbreaking.
Her nose nearly ran and she sniffled as she cried in my arms, nuzzled under my chin, her shaking form nearly as cold as ice.
Her heart was once her own, her love was once brought only to the those who she deemed worthy, but that one person, that one human, made her empirical mind crash to the ground, ****** on by the rains of gloating hypocrisy. She is a shell and a mind of active saddened anger.
But she always forgets
that I know it better than she does
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 6:55 PM UTC
Yet again I sit on the cold floor, in the dark
And I fill my head in darkness.
But I’m at peace with the loneliness.
In fact it fuels me, gassing me like cars before a long journey into the abyss of loneliness.
And I think it’s time I hit the road.
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 12:55 PM UTC
My mind twinges with each of the plentiful thoughts of you.
You're everywhere I look now, even when I look in mirrors, and I can't stop envisaging your face.
But I can't give you anymore of my mind.
I'll move on from you sometime
For my sake.
Rest assured
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 10:02 PM UTC
I think you refuse me simply because I don’t give you any reasons to.
I told you I didn’t care about your past or about your afflictions
I told you that I would accept your flaws and show you love because of them.
I told you that I would respect you unlike anyone who you’ve known.
And yet now I’m the imperfectd counterpart of whom can’t receive love.
I guess I’m oxymoronic.
Because I’m so eager to accept the flaws of people who won’t accept mine.
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 12:06 PM UTC
Hush….. can you hear that?
It’s my heartbeats every time she comes close.
I wonder if she can hear it when she passes. I wonder if anyone else can.
When she’s close by, I sense it, I sense an impending nervousness and the calm as we talk.
I wonder can she feel it too.
It’s just something about the way she moves, something about the little details of everything about her, she has me mesmerized whenever our eyes match. Hard to imagine the images that appear in my mind when our eyes lock, and I always see her. When they replay in my memory, I understand. For only angels can wear halos.
I wonder what she sees.
There’s something in the air that makes each word she makes as palatable as ginger ale. Her voice is so mellifluous that it makes my spirit hunger for emotional stimulation. I imagine long talks in sunset milieus. I imagine deeper conversations that I rarely have anymore and crippling displays of imaginative love that I’m not even sure I’d be able to provide. But with every thought, the air gets sweeter with released thoughts.
I wonder if she tastes it too.
Green apple goddess, cherry cheeks of cherished charms, her flavors speak of delicious intimacy. We constantly contrast in such distinct ways like flavor and spice. Her graceful decadence contrasting with my cinnamon smile and cayenne complements.
I wonder if she identifies the fragrance.
She is a tease to my brain and a testament to my imaginative nature, but I’d love to toy with her senses the way she toys with mine. Sending her brain racking the walls of consciousness trying to categorize me based on those she’s known. Yet our individual uniqueness’s make us stick out to one another. I ponder her intentions, as pure as they seem, and I always get the same idea. The Idea that she’s the embodiment of me.
The embodiment of my curiosity.
Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 11:55 PM UTC
In truth, I am a Wildman swinging an ax. Where was the tree when I was burying my weapon into the helpless?
Why am I still in a hush over the things I shouldn’t even be thinking about? Why do I call myself a poet and why is it that the kind of poems I do are about something that I’ve barely felt.
It’s Ironic, isn’t it?
My soul dries up as people soak each other in liquid love. My heart burns as people kiss around me. I don’t feel jealousy, just a longing.
A longing for that taste that I used to know.
A longing for the cuisine of love and all its benefits.
For even though I only had a taste of something I considered basic
I still hunger for what I had.
I still hunger for that flavor
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 10:56 AM UTC
It’s like my life flashes before I can grip it
I think too much about what I try to say, and always end up messing my words up.
I can’t fix it. It’s grown on my
Growth
A product of time.
A sapling is born in a soul, that soul is tormented and the sapling struggles for life.
But the sapling endures in the freezing temperatures.
It knows it will blossom to become a true self-revelation.
When will this sapling become a tree?
Only time will tell
Feb 2, 2016
Feb 2, 2016 at 10:50 PM UTC
If she lies once more about where she was, I swear I might hit her.
She’s playing with my emotion, a force she’s never extracted from me before.
And It bothers me.
If she lies about why she smells like cologne again, I might get on my knees and cry.
She knows my delicacy, yet she still is determined to melt my silicon soul.
Jilted presence, ever-present guilt in her eyes, I can taste the sweat of betrayal on her cheeks.
She has broken my spirit and my longing for love.
If she breaks me one more time, I just might leave…. But I always come back. She has become my only reality, the only thing I’ve really claimed to love. And I’ve given her so much power that now
I need her
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 11:17 AM UTC
I can taste the unfaithfulness on your lips.
Your sensuous nibbles do naught but solidify my fears.
You’re a liar and a heartbreaker
But right now, you’re all I have
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 11:03 AM UTC
Gasoline lies drip to the ground with each part of your lips
Drenching my heart in the foul odor of deception.
My own anger at you is the match
Struck with each false tale.
Bloated with the taste of sickening liquid lies, my heart catches aflame.
And I burn my anguish away.
Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 12:17 PM UTC
A thought crossed my mind last night.
What if I loved you?
What if we actually became intimate? What if our little flirts developed into something more like those that I know. What if we became more than casual passes in the hallways? What if we became closer than whatever we are now?
Would you be cool with that?
A question came to my head yesterday.
Why am I searching for a phantom?
Why is it that I look unknowingly for a love that I could give an honest **** about? How is it that I’m stuck in the past looking for something to fill that which I only had a taste of? How is it that even under the pressures of life I still have enough space in my schedule to stress over love?
Do you know what love is? Because I wouldn’t mind teaching you.
Would you be cool with that?
What if we gave each other our minds, what if we developed into something that even we had no clue about?
Would you be cool with that?
In this dark world, would you be cool with me holding your hand and leading the way? Would you be ok with showing an interest in a forsaken soul who shows an interest in you?
Would you be ok with speaking in private and kissing in public? Would you accept my invitation to entwine fingers and chat the world away?
Or Am I Just Dreaming?
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 11:35 AM UTC
How many punches can the human heart take before breaking? How many strikes can there be before a person is down? Maybe she could tell you.
She’s a player, and I’m not talking baseball. She plays with hearts, she plays with emotion until the emotion is drained and you are most vulnerable. She is a demon of heaven but a hellion angel.
Wonderfully wizardry but her spells send a mind into self-tension.
And I have been bewitched.
Bewitched by her fragrance, by the taste of her lips, by her mind and what I thought was the real her.
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I was actually hypnotized by this beauty. Maybe she wasn’t who she was, but I would’ve thought I was who I was supposed to be.
Who Am I? Who was she? Where am I in this world of deceit and trickery?
A chef of misery, cooking up a fresh batch with every new victim, so sensual yet so senseless
The touch of duplicity.
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 11:18 AM UTC
My heart is still warm when it’s handed back to me
I guess it wasn’t enough to guarantee a love.
Who knew love would be so expensive.
I wish I had some intimacy
I wish I had that feeling of decadence again.
I just want to feel the love
My hands shake too much
Spoiled with the spell of calm that came over them when they would grasp a counterpart
A counterpart now missing
My tongue would savor the taste that stayed on my lips
Spoiled by chocolate sweet kisses
Kisses now missing
My arms used to ache
the feeling of someone in between them continuously
But now they hang by my side and keep to themselves, lonely.
I just miss the security.
The luxury of the life
I miss the taste of affinity that still bubbles on the cushion of my lips
That time when my heart was in decadence.
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 11:18 AM UTC
Is it bad to think of strangers when your friends are around?
Why is it that a person you don’t know stays a mystery when all you have to do is introduce yourself?
What is a stranger really?
And why do I keep making eye contact with them?
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 10:32 AM UTC
I never truly loved you.
My love, you were my eye candy.
You were my dum-dum
My sucker
And I only kept you around because you looked great on my shoulder.
Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 11:14 AM UTC
Jay
I know a mind that heats up hotter than the sun and a body that can become a brick
I love her dearly, but in truth, I think her head is a bit thick.
She’s an adventurous soul with a warm heart and a mind that’s faster than the draw
A perfect being and sure sweetheart, she has no single flaw.
The party wherever she is and personality unmatched in all,
she’s a singular creature of complexity
A compilation of personalities yet one of her own,
a chameleon with surprising dexterity
The embodiment of physical beauty,
When she walks by, people notice
Needless to say, I would be extremely guilty
If I didn’t let her know this.
A crush is a crush, and a love is a love
But a friendship is something much more.
A wish is a wish, and to miss is to miss
But there’s so much that the both of us haven’t explored.
I know a mind that heats up hotter than the sun
In the body of a wild child
And I know someone who I won’t forget
Because she’s always making me smile
Jaylene
Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 6:09 PM UTC
Every time we talk, this cherry child has me hypnotized
Empty eyes and beautiful voice has my mind tingling
Itching like my palms.
Every time she comes in the room, the air gets colder
Leopard-skin lover with a pompous soul and a vicious need for attention
I am her mediator, showing the love she desires and cutting through previous facades
Calming like my kisses.
Every time we lock eyes, this being of wonder gets me star-struck
Woman of wonderlust, being of beauty with hips so vibrant as to cause movement
Dancing like my footfalls.
Sensuous beauty with the world on her back and a lot on her mind
Sitting on child swings like kindergarteners and just thinking of her past lives
I place my hands over yours as I guide you through the air with each push
Swinging like my fingertips.
Crazy as it is I’ve made no choices, as the loves I’ve felt were real
But there’s something about helping a person who is down
Deep conversation turned theory on love turned burden upon burden’s release
And when all is said and all is done, there’s nothing left to do but listen to the music of us two.
Sitting on the swings listening to the rhythm of the air, my love, I must choose you.
For no other can offer the sweet satisfaction of watching a young bird soar through the skies and be her wings, no other can offer the kiss of one who’s done it least, no other can show such truth.
So I’ll always cherish those talks on the swing-set and the problems uncovered as we chatted the day to dusk.
Steady pushing you higher and higher, letting you escape the hell and tears and lifting you.
Ever Swinging like my fingertips
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 11:36 PM UTC
Heartache Of Rescue
I save so many souls on a daily that I forget about my own.
But I’m sick of saving hearts.
Only time can tell how long it is before the knight in shining armor is saved by a princess.
And maybe on that day, my heart will be spared as a token of gratitude
Rather than a practice for abusers.
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 11:15 AM UTC