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 Sep 2014 twisted mind
bones
He stood
At the end
Of the days
That had passed
And he wept
For them all
As they spilled
Through the gaps
In his fingers
That clawed
The air
At their backs
Til the one
That he thought
That he'd caught
Was his last.
should have turned round
before it was too late !  :o(
 Sep 2014 twisted mind
one llucy
I planted an idea in your mind
with my eyes
I pulled wool over your head and heart
with my lies
I carried you along my stories
so sweet
I made a small trail, leaving hints
with each treat
you followed behind
eager for more
and had not a clue
what plans were in store
deep in the dark
lost in the wood
there is no safety
no creatures of good
once you are alone
what a feast I will eat
for I am the wolf
and now you're my sheep.
 Sep 2014 twisted mind
EJ Aghassi
I want to love you
warmly & freely

and make the bed
in which we lay

I want you to hear me
see me and need me

I want you to tell
me that you'll stay
I know this probably sounds crazy
but our love is not what it seems
I know everything about you
and you're always in my dreams.

but yet you love her
and I fade into nothing
I long for your touch
beg for us to be something

the way you look into her eyes
is how I pray you'll look at me
hold me close to you
and we'll drift out to sea

lose our pain in that ocean
deep within the tide
and you will love me dearly
and I will be your bride.
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
I met a genius on the train
today
about 6 years old,
he sat beside me
and as the train
ran down along the coast
we came to the ocean
and then he looked at me
and said,
it's not pretty.

it was the first time I'd
realized
that.
If
If freckles were lovely, and day was night,
And measles were nice and a lie warn’t a lie,
Life would be delight,—
But things couldn’t go right
For in such a sad plight
I wouldn’t be I.

If earth was heaven and now was hence,
And past was present, and false was true,
There might be some sense
But I’d be in suspense
For on such a pretense
You wouldn’t be you.

If fear was plucky, and globes were square,
And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee
Things would seem fair,—
Yet they’d all despair,
For if here was there
We wouldn’t be we.
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"
 Sep 2014 twisted mind
Paula Lee
Mourning is like a puzzle
outlined dot to dot
.------.
Time heals some
others not,

It's but another Journey
life throws our way,
We all must walk it
come what may,

Some will heal to sunshine
Some drown in the rain,
For some Mourning claims
the prize of pain,

Belief in God, helps a few
while others live in doubt,
For some the Journey ends
as it's figured out,

Like me the lines get blurred
the path not always clear,
but praying that God
is somewhere near,

Mourning is like a puzzle
outlined dot to dot,
.--------.
Time heals some,
Others not.
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