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Breaking bonds
Like haunted hearts
Inside lost jars
From sunken ships
Lost at sea
I'm lost you see
& I can't tell you that
Cause it's not up to me
[Anymore]
 Jul 2014 dmitri a danailov
Elli
we were all kids once
with small hands and big eyes
so full of love and innocence
and I'd be lying if i tell my younger self
to make sure she keeps her innocence
because this harsh world
will **** the life out of you
which is ironic because this is life
but if I were to say a message to my younger self
it would be to keep your heart full
full of love
full of care
and full of happiness
because this world may be harsh
but do not let it diminish the light in your eyes
or **** the curiosity
and maybe that adventurous streak you always have
they will surely call you foolish thinking that
you can keep all these things,
but look around you
you see dead people roaming around
with no fire in their hearts because they drowned
in this sea of madness
do not go with the flow but rather stay on top
and build a boat and sail where you want
don't let the coldness of others
affect you,
but rather let your warmness
affect them
this world is harsh
but that doesn't mean you have to be that way too
(still editing)
Dear Talia,


My mattress is tattooed with your scent.

You held me as I slept.

You kissed my forehead and told me you love me.

You whispered three syllables into my mouth. You create waves in me that wash away cigarette burns. I would hold you tight in the unforgiving night.

I want to drink cheap coffee with you as you smile between each sip and as I master the art of looking at your smile. I want to make love with you like it's going out of style and until our lungs are burning like California wildfire.

I want to evaporate into your breath.

We were side by side in a bed made for us, and I fell asleep in your arms, listening to the calm of your breathing and the frantic beat of your heart.

Your fingers weaved through my hair, and I counted heartbeats, hoping never to stop.

My brain is soup and my hands are worn down from hours of typing your name. Talia. Talia. Talia Betourney.

I want to rock in and out of your body, as you kiss my lips with precise lightning strikes. After you shock me, time and time again, I want to wonder if the lightning misses the sky.

I am flustered and as I type this, I lose control of my thoughts as I become swept into your green-eyed, dark haired heaven. I cannot dream a better dream than your reality. I want to kiss you for every gasp I've never been around for and for every moment of pain. I am not here to save you, though: I am here just to love you.

Your hands swallowed mine, as I was closest to your body. My eyes drank the darkness, and my mind escaped.

In my sleep, you told me you love me. When I woke up, you told that panther something and I wanted to know what his ears heard that mine didn't.

You wouldn't say, and your hands grew slight tremors, the same way farmers grow slight weeds.

We started to kiss like our lips were the antidote. You whispered into my mouth. I asked what you said, being able to make most of it out.

You said, "Nothing." But, baby, that wasn't nothing. That was everything.

After a few minutes, I told you that I made out most of it and that it was okay.

You turned to your side, and your hands shook. I love you so much. I love you. I love you. I love you. Turn back to me. Look at me. Hey.

"It's okay. It's okay, and it's going to be okay, because I love you, too," I said to you, as I looked into your eyes, seeing myself.

You smiled.

We kissed like famine was non-existent, and like the apocalypse was imminent. End my world with every kiss, revive me with every flick of the tongue. Wash me with lava, and give me acid to drink; nothing could **** me in that moment, except the batting of your eye lashes.


I wrote you this poem and it *****, but it spilled out of my fingers after you left:

In a far and distant galaxy, there is a father for you, and a father for me       
And a silver car for you and I; driving underneath the alone-grey sky.
And a blue soul that learns to be happy.
And our blood will dye the Dead Sea.
And underneath a together-old tree, our young love will try.

And while our muscles are far from weak,
we will kiss until our mouths are dry.
We will kiss for an entire week. We will kiss until we forget how to cry.

Our brains will tell us we’re irresponsible.
Our hands will shake from all the trust.
You chew on my lip like I’m impossible.
You’ll ******* blood; I taste like rust.


How you could be afraid of my not loving you escapes me.

Don't you know why my heart beats so fast?

Today was the first day we said that we love each other. I hope it isn't the last, because I love you very much, and I don't think my mouth can go a day without knowing those words.


Yours,

Josh
the past ten months i’ve went from being sad
to being sort of - not really - almost happy

and it’s taken ten months to go from sad to sort of almost happy and i want to scream and to tell everyone i meet that you can achieve happiness even if it’s only almost happiness

it’s still there and it still ******* counts even if you think it doesn’t it really actually does

(feeling better, feeling stronger - almost)
 Jul 2014 dmitri a danailov
Court
...
Why do I feel like a stranger in my own home?
Isn't "home" supposed to be the place where you feel free?
Instead all I get are condescending glaces and remarks that make me want to curl up into a ball.
I've been avoiding all mirrors.
How could I see myself as beautiful when the only people who were supposed to love me wouldn't care if my body went up into flames.?
This is my home...but I feel so alone.
I saw Temptation
& he stared at me
with his narcotic eyes
blossoming nebulas formed
around his head
& i felt sinful
just staring
back
at him

i felt like
i'd go straight
down
to hell
with just wondering
if his lips
if his mouth
tasted like
the darkest
of coffee

& i don't
even like
coffee

but
i'm willing
to try
 Jul 2014 dmitri a danailov
Syd
you know what I think? I think sleep is for people who aren't up all hours of the endless night spending each second whole heartedly loving someone. I think 2 a.m was invented for poets writing poems upon poems about the curvature of his jawline or how her lips taste like stardust and sunshine because one never seems to be enough and do beauty the justice that true love demands. how could you possibly sleep knowing you're wasting minutes and moments and hours spent being subconsciously elsewhere while her hands are empty and he's out there somewhere whispering to the moon and the stars and Jupiter and whoever else is willing to listen about how beautiful you are when you don't think anyone is looking? I once had an entire conversation with the sun about your laughter and the calluses on your palms and the very next night I found myself screaming your name at the sky demanding answers from a solar system that only offered even more questions. the north star swallowed my memories of my head on your chest and your heart beat in my ear and now all I'm left with are smudged letters and holes in the walls a little too big to fit my fists. I want to kick the door of history clear off it's hinges and choke on splinters of pride and apologies. I want to tell you that I intend to fill every single empty part of your heart with my hands and your hands with my soul. you told me I was beautiful. I always knew you were looking.
 Jun 2014 dmitri a danailov
J
1:58am
 Jun 2014 dmitri a danailov
J
I want to like someone so much,

That I could draw them from memory.

I want to adore someone so much,
I want to love someone so much,

*That I could pinpoint their profile in the stars.
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