Be a lamb.
Meek to your purpose
That field is your own
The men will come and seize your coat
But you will regrow-
I anticipate what happens every year,
You come and go,
my favourite season.
I need the warmth you give me during these winter months,
You need the stability of a girl with flaws.
I started to miss moments as I was living them,
Not savouring them but yearning for them to stay.
I’m really going to miss you once you leave again,
And as the leaves on the trees wither -
He leaves my body cemented to the bed where we lay.
I have an overwhelming need to make you feel everything I can’t
To make you feel unconditional love for every flaw you think you have
I want to let you cry
And wipe the salty tears from your face
To let you breath and feel safe
To Make you want to live again.
But giving you my warmth
Keeps me cold -
Still I will happily freeze.
And giving you life
Drains me of mine -
But dying for you will put me at ease.
“Meet me by the shore as the world caves in”
i could only wish that i could share your last breaths of oxygen as the world caves in. a beach, I sat dead still. The sun rises, causing water to condensate on my cheek and salt to sit on my lips.
The pulse of sirens in the distance.
In the foreground, soldiers ripple into the tides, with rifles blazing. But without you I could only hear silence. The sounds of bodies sloshing on the sand.
someone emerged from among the remains of the crusading foundations.
It was the mirror image of you, only the feeling in the deepest pit of my stomach told me you were already dead. You looked more like a succubus, dripping in water, soaked with lust. Were you abandoned? killed by your familiars ? impaled on a spear, used as sacrifice? Did your image become part of the mast that came to bury you?
I wish I was loved the way I love.
A love so passionate and fierce that it burns holes through my clothes.
A love so ****** that it can make kissing the salty streams on your cheeks gratifying.
A love that you arise in the morning anticipating and sleep at night dreaming of.
A love that writes you poems because the only way they can express in words how they love you is through art because to them you are art.
The type of love that makes you hold your breath to feel in control because this love is dominating.
A love that I have given so haphazardly again and again but never felt.
A love that I can’t seem to give myself.
I am a soldier trapped in a porcelain prison.
Foreign to the barracks that mirrors my skin
I am within my own adversary.
The trenches in the scars on my legs sit as a reminder
That I will forever be at war with myself.
Holding me in his arms like I am fragile China
A distressed glass yearning to collapse at his feet.
He cradled me anyway.
He’s so gentle with everything he touches.
And he will keep this gentleness when he is holding my beating heart in his hands
and when he rips it from my body his reassuring words will echo a pulse in my chest.