#visuals
I left your visuals at your door
There’s only so much I can adore
I loved you ‘till the end
But my soul’s getting bent.
Sep 23, 2024
Sep 23, 2024 at 2:58 PM UTC
I close my eyes
To visualize
A romanticized
Big picture prize
Then realize
To my surprise
It's all been lies
And I have to comfort my soul as it cries
©2024
Jun 5, 2024
Jun 5, 2024 at 6:27 PM UTC
I tend to follow the key notion of something that balances on a single harmless 'tightrope.' Something that can't look down (even in the slightest of quick 'desirable' glimpses). Because if you do...then you will pay the price of simply having then seen something that has yet to make proper sense. This idea, hints at a single notion...that had yet to fully introduce itself to the main issue at hand...that starts with one thing and one single thing, only... You become entirely something that you’re not, when and only when...you have seen what that single notion truly speaks about. And what the very idea truly speaks of (once you know this...), you can then fully begin to not feel scared anymore. Because being scared when up high on a single piece of material (that definitely, regardless of what it looks, or seems like, fully resembles without a doubt… A harmless…tightrope.) Now, you all the sudden start randomly walking forward on that seemingly harmless tightrope, and suddenly as by no far-stretch of the imagination to handle, properly, and appropriately), you start immediately using your incredible creativity to simply imagine the straightest line, imaginable. All so that very creativity could then of course help you align a single (properly hopeful) imaginary linear line (for your own line of sight to slow down your own pace of everything in your entire self). Slow down concentration (to help you see more visuals and the insights that piece together faster, where you'd find the pattern a lot quicker, then before). Even going as far as to simply (also) slow-down your own focus (where that will fully determine the very readiness in itself, you reacted upon), just so you could then better prepare yourself accordingly (ahead of time). While now VASTLY concentrating on not single-handedly falling for your dear life! Then you have yet to properly read between the lines. If you succeed in doing that very thing... You will see (not just why 'I write'...) But how you succeed in finding the missing key (inside your very self), that actually makes you witness the very dynamic meaning simply as too... ‘Why Do You Write?’”
May 13, 2021
May 13, 2021 at 7:31 PM UTC
A girl's values are now FINALLY free! Because nothing wasn't meant to be ever forgotten from her literal inside outness. Nor was it meant to fixate a very awful opportunity for her to mend NOTHING at all of the sort.
Except now that all values are truly free.... How does she put up with the newly evolved form of freedom, (that too is... Nothing more then the impression of something that isn't entirely evolved, when it's more of the freedom of something that never "up to this very point in time" has had the very taste for freedom...ever since this very "corruption" had first started back in a (supposed past) that can't EVER AGAIN become measured properly...? When all isn't meant to be remembered, ever again. When it's also never made to be forgotten (for the most part), either.
So, reasoning out the many variables that compute too much seeming nonsense, as if it's meant to correct it's very wrong doings without thinking about whether or not, it's made to simply be this way...from now on...?
A question repeated by another question, doesn't give enough value to an even more "correct" answer... When nothing is made to bear for the correct assumption, when wanting too correctly "imply" something of an entirely different meaning, altogether.
So, in order to mask this (good enough impression) where nothing would ever again, become "faulted" right off the bat! So you couldn't ever become the more obvious to such a situation that isn't ever to be up too date, ever again.
This poem is too a girl who isn't just (on the dime) to correct their most importance across something that's most deserving of a young and cherishable young girl's lifetime values. (Because let's face it...) A sense in someone's very self isn't truly found out or correctly assorted into context for their very heartbeat to pulse even more correctly too life, if it's not been made to be assorted (very well) within it's very pattern recognition to debate those very pulses into even more correct verses. That would then normally lead into a proud melody to simply interpret as mere language to itself bouncing off of different representation of things that ONLY matter from deep within itself (first and foremost).
Because one's very values are then sometimes mistakenly disguised by the heart that you have yet too interpret (towards the very inputs that have yet to correct it's own values for the heart to value, altogether)!
And that is a brain that's too full of itself... That it can't even see the more correct reason, as too simply "why that is"...?
PS... The brain is the ultimate finisher of failures across an even more disturbing platform that can't even redeem itself (properly) when it's CONSTANTLY yanking it's own chain essentially too bear...alone with!
Oct 3, 2020
Oct 3, 2020 at 10:50 PM UTC
Give me your sunsets
my love
and I will paint every one of them.
Bring me your faith
and I will m o v e
t /\
/\ n a. / \
/ \ u i / \
/ \ o n \
/ m s \
for you.
Share with me your darkness;
and I will leave the lights on.
Tell me about your dreams
and I will grant your every wish.
Bring me your sorrow,
your pain,
and I will hold your hand through it.
Share with me your forever,
and I will promise to love you
even
longer.
Oct 22, 2019
Oct 22, 2019 at 1:56 AM UTC
When they say my name I hope you hear waterfalls; my face flooding your entire brain. When you hear my name I hope you think of glass breaking and you picture my hands, scratched and bleeding, putting it all back together again. When you say my name, I hope you hear laughter. I hope you see smiles. And despite all my countless flaws, I hope you think of me when you want someone to stay awhile. When they say my name I hope it reminds you of breaking and healing all in one breath. When you think of me I hope you feel warm. I hope I’m someone you never regret.
Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 9:05 PM UTC
spark
t h e
f
l
a
m
e
and
i
n
h
a
l
e
the essence
e x p e l
a l l t o x i n s
a n d t h a t w h i c h
n o l o n g e r
s e r v e s y o u
Jan 2, 2019
Jan 2, 2019 at 11:12 AM UTC
tangerine and pink flying through your eyes.
Sending flames to not only the sky,
but my heart as well.
They engulf my soul.
Keeping me warm through the night
when the colors have faded to nothing but smoke.
Skin wrapped up in the magic of your fingertips,
the wild flower you tucked behind my ear
blown free in a spiral towards the blistering clouds.
I ran and ran to the edge of the field, grass tickling my toes.
Only to feel the warmth on my back and realize it’s time again.
There will be a million wildflowers, but only one golden hour.
I wouldn’t want to miss it.
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 4:05 PM UTC
Colds winds kiss the leaves
Dreams are gold beneath the moon
Green tea cleans my soul
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 11:51 AM UTC
Flowers sways happy
The cool winds gives gentle kiss
Water flows grateful
Let my flames burn bright
Let my wealth flow steadily
Let my mind have peace
The grass can now breathe
They can drink from life's essence
and rise again strong
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 5:21 AM UTC
Infatuation is transparent red.
It sounds like the quickened pace of a fox in the forest
It tastes like metallic blood pumping in the back of your throat
It smells like three week old lilacs
Infatuation feels like burrs stuck in the sleeves of your tattered wool sweater.
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 7:18 PM UTC
Paranoia is electric green.
It sounds like the small hum of a 1976 refrigerator.
It tastes like somebody left a hair in your sandwich.
It smells like aged copper, dangling around your neck.
Paranoia feels like pins and needles right after standing up.
Nov 28, 2017
Nov 28, 2017 at 10:13 PM UTC
We are wolves
We hunt as one.
We howl as one, at the moon so bright.
We die as one, cold and ****** on the frozen forest floor.
There is no confusion amongst our ranks,
We all must hunt to survive, **** or be killed or be shot by the humans, as the vultures eat us as our bodies stank.
There is no fear, only purpose
There is hunger but there is also satisfaction
There is no pain that can't be overcome
There is no battle that cannot be won.
There is no affection, only cold calculation.
There is no heart, only pure grit and determination.
There is no cowardice, only destruction
Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 12:41 AM UTC
In this black and white world
It's uncommon for there to be any vibrance or color
The Crow begins to take flight again
Looking for something to feed on, my friends
The feathers falling into the snow, bloodstained and white, like a pomegranate was cut open, or the Crow has found its meal for tonight
What's it's meal you ask? My mind
Jul 23, 2016
Jul 23, 2016 at 3:06 PM UTC
Pick the bones
And bones with a pick
Strip the flesh
You already took away the rest
Heart is missing
What's left of the brain is starting to mold over
Fillings gone down the throat of a wild wolf 3 trees over
Will someone find what's left of my dignity?
Along with what's left of my reaching or ability?
I don't know, to be perfectly frank
This mauling left me broken Down like a 3rd world country, post meeting the tank
Jul 23, 2016
Jul 23, 2016 at 3:03 PM UTC
The leaves crunch underneath
My bare feet that tread on a path
Strange, ubiquitous and unique
I looked up just in time to see
The eyes of the trees staring back at me
It was getting dark, I needed to find shelter quickly
Before I ended up in some giant cats stomach quickly
So i broke branches and bark and bound them together with the remains of parts from the crash
A plane brought me here, and thankfully the fire didn't last
I grabbed what I could, food, drinks, spare parts and some supplies
Hopefully, prayerfully these meager items would allow me to survive.
I didn't go too far away, as the crash was on the beach
So I stuck to the trees above the wreckage and above most predators eager to dine on me...
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 2:13 AM UTC
My heart is an apocalypse
Empty
Dead and strange
Occasional signs of life
Constantly in strife
Fighting for survival in conditions so bitter
Although living in these conditions does create a kind of grit only found in wool sweaters
And to be honest I wish It was getting better
But it's not to be frank
My future seems to be like a sarcophagus, dark and dank
I wish I could find it in myself to love as much as stone cold Steve Austin drank
But My heart is an apocalypse
I can taste the tears on my lips
As you walk away
I can't see any reason that you would stay
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 2:38 AM UTC
I love animals, especially birds of prey
And the eagle in particular is the one we'll discuss today
Majestic, wide wings and an almost regal personality
Seeing an eagle in flight is like watching your dreams turn into reality
Now, I didn't think of this solely for our heavily feathered friends
I thought of Eagles because someone reading this could think that the hard time they're in won't end.
Well, like an eagle, use the wind of the storm to carry yourself beyond the pain
We're all here for you, you're an eagle in all but name
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 1:36 AM UTC
I couldn't sleep
The sandman must've been waylaid
So I got up and crept outside
And on the back porch I stayed
Looking out into the endless night sky
The stars blinking and twinkling
The night is so hauntingly beautiful, and it doesn't have to try
The moon hung low, shining into my heart
I said "You can shine to my chest at best, but my mind you cannot bless"
I smiled at the sky, and as I walked in I heard a deep breath of wind.
The door closed and night rain began to fall
A reflection of what goes on within
Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 10:58 PM UTC
The familiar, the comfort, no change
So vain, much pain, feels strange
uncomfortable, disturbing
Swimming along the river
running with wind at our backs
a one eighty turn, finally ******
easy was once a dream, a goal
though lessens the worth, dead soul
mind empty with chaos
frustration and hell
feeling so underwhelmed
why must I crave this?
Smells, and visuals
euphoric and thrills
Z's float above me
trickles throughout my body
eyes chameleon
dilated cherries
Nov 21, 2015
Nov 21, 2015 at 5:14 PM UTC
A feathered knight
Clad in windy armour
A tornado as a weapon
Eyes are cold and grey
Emotionally, and difficulty is deceptive
Storm Eagle, you fly above the teary eyed clouds
Fly on Eagle, Fly on
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 12:16 AM UTC
The wind rattles the branches
Leaves crunching underneath my feet
Like polite small wind chimes
Filling up the streets
The temperature dropped suddenly
From swimming and tanning to cuddling in a matter of weeks
Yet as these observations rub through my head
The whispers in the wind carry ideas, dreams and plans, each one unique.
Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 2:53 AM UTC
Where'd you come from?
where are you going?
tell me lover,
are you lonely
the seas are cruel
as time go by
the waves roll and crash
on an infinite time
maybe a parallel place
where we go to meditate
is where you've come from
the east or west
show no restraint
from blowing us away in a Boeing
to being so gentle and dear
Like mothers milk
the queen of the sea arises and provides
her life giving love and so it flows
the queen of the sea goes where she goes
I'd still like to know
Where'd she come from?
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 1:36 AM UTC
I think I've already drowned
in the ocean of my soul,
while deep water
always scared me most
that I am burning up
in the fire of my life,
and soon to be nothing
left to take away
I'm freezing in the coldest regions
of my unwarmed heart,
flakes of thought and bone
just peeling off
and I am crying in the dark
of this vast and lonely place,
from which my spirits all left
but in this corner
I subsist.
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 7:07 PM UTC
Sunburn in November near.
Brightness of sunshine.
Being held no fear.
Bathed in golden light.
And the so Admiral fluttered.
Bit late in the season.
For butterfly to flutter by.
Landed on the sill.
Absorbed the suns prolific rays.
Grazing on warmth and autumn comfort.
I came too close and you were gone.
(C) Livvi
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 9:02 AM UTC