I really believe that some of us are some kind of angels.
And whenever one of our love ones are hurting,
we give them a feather from our wings.

But after so much suffering and hurting,
we remain empty, without any feathers.
That’s the moment when you need to realize that not all of your love ones are there for your fall.

That’s the moment when you need to stop letting these people take all the love out of you.
That’s the moment you need to step back and gather your forces, alone.
That’s the moment when you will realize how lonely you are.

May the flowers from your soul
Start to spread in the moment he comes back.
May the healing time
Stop you from letting him shatter the process of blooming.

And, suddenly, "honey" turned into "stranger" ,
smile in sighs,
love in regret,
but she remained the same.

She remained the same pure chaos,
with the same laugh and the same tears.
She remained the exactly marvelous piece of art that you once wanted to understand,
that you once wanted to recreate.
She has the same gentle touch and passionate voice.
The same bruises and the same sins,
dance moves and favorite lyrics,
same poetry,
same dreamy eyes, you can’t take that away from her.
She is perfectly incredible with or without you.

You are incredible perfect with or without the person you think it means the world to you.
You are your own world, darling.
Be passionate about that, don’t let anyone take that passion away from you.
Don’t let anyone freeze your soul.

I didn’t expect to become a poet.
But then I fell in love with a pair of beautiful golden eyes
That ripped my soul apart,
and in the need of mending my own scars,
I finally found my relief.
The words.

She is a ruler, proud in her glory
Sets hearts to flame, turns lovers to screams
Her nails alone are ripped from a story
Reduces soldiers to men without mean

Eyes marble-black, with sharp slits in the centre
Hair that waves as though in water
Glistening red as crowds begin to enter
They know her tales, but none have caught her

What she requires - they all deliver
Her voice is a choir - that makes all shiver
She doesn't walk
She struts

Bends over in a seductive style
Caresses villainy in her seat
Crooning, intentions hidden all the while
Inaudible but the tread of her feet

March, march, march on to the drums
The Dark Majesty never forgets
Absorbing herself in hymns and hums
Oblivious to drunken admissions of regret

Queen of tyranny will never rest
But for serenity - she fails the test
She's majestic
But joy eludes her

Lipstick kisses,
we're both wearing red.
I motion her over and onto our bed.
Blood red smeared across our lips.
I keep her enticed, I straddle her hips.
Seductively playing,
I'm touching my lips.
Long acrylic nails,
for us never fails.
I show her a ***** and
she gently wails.

She's waiting,
my sweetheart,
I lust her so much.
We ****, we're on fire
and I wonder,
which of us holds the power.
I, in all honesty is hoping it's her,
'cause then I'll continue this life
in her beautiful blur.

Poetry by Kaydee.