"agonizingly" poems
This cave is my sanctuary; cold, damp, filled with minerals and creatures.
I sit cross legged peering out through the crescent shaped doorway mama nature has created. I have never been more at peace than I am when I’m here.
The water crashes hard on the barnacle covered rocks beneath me. The mist from the waves whirls its way up to sooth my aching skin. The sea calls my name in the way that an angel calls you into the light.
At first it’s just a delicate whisper. The voice is so charming and playful that it begins to lure me in. As i begin to drift further, letting the voice carry my thoughts, the waves pound harder and the symphony the sea has written me rapidly grows in volume and intensity.
The tension becomes so strong that the sky starts to erupt. The clash of the clouds creates a prismatic light sequence leaving the sky looking magnificently iridescent. I sit unstirred, reveling in it's beauty.
The sea is now agonizingly screaming for me to succumb to its cool paradise.
For a while I just sit and enjoy the elegance of the symphony. Once the sky starts to lower its darkened veil, I know it is time to go.
I stand up with more certainty than I had ever felt before.
I slowly take three steps forward, embracing the feeling of the dirt in between my toes.
Two long strides, and then I leap. The thick foggy air caresses my body as it swiftly careens downward.
The symphony ends with a splash.
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 3:30 PM UTC
this night was different;
there were more moments spent looking back then forward,
panic always pulsating in the crook of our throat
like some giant, out of breath beast
waiting in the hollow sweat, and gnarled tree branches
reflecting black against the slightly purple sky.
it was too quiet to mask our
echoing footsteps;
boot on pavement
no rain to soften the blow.
we made it in thirty minutes to the gas station,
where we unzipped our jackets
and let the lace show out of our drooping shirts
blinking like a warning sign
to the drugged up cashier,
words mumbling over his body,
strings mixed up.
men entered and i saw that look
that i always see
in men who look at me;
its hungry, a type of lusting mouth with no
feeling,
**** trusted more than his heart.
the kind of look that says,
“i want you feeling my biceps in the back of
my truck,
and i want to feel your tightness all over me,”
the only problem is i play along,
pretending to be seductive
and then leaving with an agonizingly frozen stare, and
a quickened pace
just to show them who's actually in control.
a pack of Newports exchanged over the counter,
another lighter;
this time with a green and red flower on it;
dahlias of the night.
exoskeletons of black jackets and tights
like some shadow riding vagabonds,
inside guts made out of
swallowed cigarette smoke
and bravery.
we smoked and walked,
watching as headlights flickered toward our slim frames,
and men leaned out from trucks
with salivating mouths like dogs,
inviting us to their burning desire
in the cold, shrinking night.
under the layer of skin
that tells the girl beside me that it would be stupid
to heed to their invitations,
i admit to myself
that all i want is for a stranger to wrap around me
and kiss my smoke stained lips
with a different fury,
so i can whisper a fake name in the depths of their ears,
and show them that i will kiss
better than all the women that have
wrapped themselves in
their limp bedsheets,
and leave them wanting more as i disappear into the night,
leaving nothing but a longing burn
on the tips of their tongues.
but i don't give into my fierce desires,
and we simply turn around,
smoke five more cigarettes,
and climb up the fence
to **** her hand,
and run across the raging freeway
like the Klamath itself.
Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 12:44 AM UTC
I am a ***** of the very worst kind
Not of *** and promiscuity
A ***** of my own
Creation
You come up on my radar
Latch
Seek
Destroy
And you will never know
Each and every one of my
Dead lovers
Never loved me back
Tear them up
Spit them out
Abandoned
Just like me
But I hurt
I feel emotion
Like clods of dirt
Inside my chest
Rip it open
Scream at each
Small thing
Wrong thing
I want only this
That I can never have
Curses
Plagues
Dead
Ex-lovers
Stars in their eyes
That look past my
Efforts
Hints
Advances
I am invisible
Invincible
Or so I like to think
The invisible *****
You never saw me coming
Till I cry these three tears
Drop
Drop
Drop
Two from the right
One from the left
Just like the rest
So many to name
That wouldn’t even know my
Hurt
Abandonment
What have you done to me?
Nothing
It is I
Only I
Want so desperately
To touch
To be touched
3 little tears come from
Within this cold hard
Clenched fist
Wetting my palm
Trying to escape
Flung at your calm
Silent face.
I want to be empty
I want to not feel this
Gift.
Emotion.
In the pit of my stomach
Back of my throat
Behind these eyes
Sick
And they fall
One
Two
Three
The time it takes to
Break
Die
Latch
Seek
Destroy
I am on a rampage
To eat each man up
Bone by bone
Flesh and blood
Thoughts and loves
Till I spew it all back out
To every person I meet
I am a ***** of the very worst kind
I’ve been everywhere
Nowhere
Inside everyone
No One
You cannot pay for me.
I’m too cheap.
You do not want me
I am curse
Brought on by
Liars
Abusers
Molesters
I am the product of
A past
Mistakes
And I want you to
Make me better
But I become
Worse
Liken me please
To those on the street
Full of disease
Because I am worth
Nothing
Of your time
Energy
Nothing
And I expect
Nothing more
Than this
Agonizingly
Painful
You
Are just like
Everyone else
That I never wanted you
To be
So much more than
Dead
Ex-lovers
Death from their lips
In long streams of wire
Attached at my wrists
Ankles
Binding me
Cutting deep
Blood
Red
Stains like my shirt
Cutting me
Scarring me
Until I feel so much
Nothing
And uncountable tears
Flood cities
Destroy taverns
Come knocking
Breaking free
Again
And again
And again
And you are
The same
As those
Starry-eyed, wire binding
Dead
Ex-Lovers
So much alive
Reminding me of every
Failure
Each scar on my wrist
In the form of a name
And now you join the rest
In this shallow unmarked grave
You are alone
With them
And I will
Consume this hurt
Like a breakfast
Of nails and tacks
Each bite will puncture
The last remaining composure
Till I am nothing once again
Radar
Radar
Detecting
Latch
Seek
Destroy
All over again
The very worst kind
Aug 13, 2011
Aug 13, 2011 at 6:58 PM UTC
i light matches on non flammable things and start fires i
cannot extinguish, i start all consuming love and then tear it apart
viciously and tiredly and try to put back the pieces of my heart
in this sacred chest at the bottom of wherever my skeleton ends
because that is where it belongs, alone and protected
you were a cigarette i denied myself the pleasure of smoking you
were an old record player that i would dance to by myself
at 2 am just because and you were strawberry hill wine in the
middle of the park that tasted agonizingly sweet on my tongue
and scorched my throat into believing this was happiness
i still whisper your name whenever i drive by your house in prayer
that i will never see you again, you are still a ghost in the corner
of my mind and i have a feeling you will always be
(h.l.)
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 3:46 PM UTC
The shadow moves above my eyes.
I'm blindfolded from sight, handcuffed from touch. The warm feeling of these lips upon my skin - ******* nibbling, biting from this excessive ****** lust and the crude tongue, playing a lecherous percussion of the forbidden dance on my ***** and ******** all this a tantalizing damnation, then this weapon I've been wanting, needing, craving is punched into me, pulling back and forth from horny-lovers lane. It lingers, simmers, agonizingly feeding my sexually crazed desires. I feel as if I'm crawling, brushing, climaxing my ***** and all that is around me. I let out a slow, mournful growl as I'm drawn to a constellated galaxy of ******** rush. Then I release myself through the milky-way returning to Earth, back in the beige-walled room. The blindfold is now off: free to sight, free to touch. I take a deep breath, look down upon my *** - I want to see him, the Mozart of my ****** pleasure; but instead I find her sitting there ******* her finger,wearing nothing but a smirk.
Oct 20, 2018
Oct 20, 2018 at 6:03 AM UTC
time with him went by
5 centimeters per second:
from the games that kids play,
to the words that adults say,
from the cherry blossoms falling from the tree,
to the rain agonizingly dripping on me,
from the way our feet danced without a care,
to the way our hands are grasped pairs,
from the way i fell in love with you.
and to the way we parted
when we didn't want to.
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 11:23 AM UTC
Time trickles by
agonizingly slow
tick tock tick tock
frustrations grow
They are playing the waiting game
Stung by fate
life's little trick
the sweetest boy
so very sick
Tick tock tick tock, time is just a game
Hands aged with fears
bound tight; she prays
fingers shivering
a grandmother softly says
God keep him safe and end this waiting game
Friends and family
kneel down in faith
praying together
In God's love they bathe
Knowing soon that time is almost here
Fate is fate
and we are all bound by destiny
but in my heart of hearts
I pray that he will be
your happy, healthy grandson once again
*to Wanda, you and your grandson are in our prayers
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 4:47 PM UTC
The high priestess issued a religious order against us both,
We were punished for being dearly in love with each other,
They apprehended and executed the two of us lovers mercilessly.
Our heads dropped down to the floor in a pool of blood,
The bodies of ours tossed about so very much agonizingly,
For my heart heard our connecting string break into two pieces.
I was made to watch as the axe was felled on your neck,
What I failed to do for all my lifetime with you was happening,
Tears were jerking down my cheeks relentlessly refusing to stop.
I felt that I saw your soul taking-off from the body,
She appeared smiling and beckoning my soul too,
Soon my head was severed from my body too.
My soul joined yours and then on we are hosted by the temple,
Now they have started worshipping love in our form & face,
Fabled is our story of love & entirely unknown to all of them,
Our souls still brew the hot coffee of love behind those altars.
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 2:20 AM UTC
A different kind of cold settled
in them as they poured through the door
into the bleak grandiosity of the lobby.
A group of grievers:
Her ashen husband and their two daughters, 12 and 20,
Her two sisters dressed in black fleece
and Her mother with freshly bruised knees.
The night was agonizingly short once they arrived.
Prayer and hope for rehabilitation
between questions about resuscitation.
Her mother clung to the cruel Almighty
While Her husband clenched his fists at the chaplain.
A Stroke of an instant induced a transformation of lives
as Hers ended beneath the blinding fluorescence.
Dec 3, 2011
Dec 3, 2011 at 4:03 AM UTC
For it is this love, that I feel,
Sleepless nights, restless days, letting play the reel
Of film that shows how my life does look and feel.
Oh for when I see this form Adonis may it not be similar to,
But Aphrodite has something up her sleeve, a thing or two
About how this network of unrequited love will just end up sad and blue.
I do wish you the best of luck in everything you love,
Sadly I can't wish you to love me, to the heavens above.
It is now that I should try to let go of this dove.
To this dove that I loved endearingly,
To this dove that was close to me adoringly,
To this dove that I will bid farewell agonizingly.
I just keep on holding on
To this love that will dawn upon
Me the finality of this feeling that will be gone.
But it's you why I keep on hoping
That our love is just in the making.
I hope I won't be forever longing.
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 2:13 PM UTC
All the poems about anxiety--
Never had I understood them until now
I'd warn my relatives and friends
I'm horribly stressed and agonizingly anxious--
And of course they'd nod and tell me
To calm down, it'd be alright
That I was overreacting
It was such a fixable plight
For years I've heard of the pain
Being alone, in an ableist world
**** it up! Don't you know?
You're life's so fortunate!
Some are beaten, some are starving,
Some are trapped in their lifeless bodies
You? You sit there, like a child,
Clasping your arms
Until red, raw bruises surface
Why on earth?
You're older now! Take care of yourself!*
So this is what the anxious experienced.
With this, they solemnly dealt.
So much of this I've heard about
Read and dreaded the talk
But now…
The fool I was, to never pay heed,
To never once ask if a friend is all right,
All fine,—of course not!
Still they’d ask for the sake of mine,
And never could I grant the slightest help for good return
Somedays I’ll watch people jest
Even with the severity of anxiety
Perhaps they’re coping,
But many fellows don’t manage the same
Now the public’s ignorance
Runs dry my bottle of patience
I won’t live until they know
The expense of their deplorable actions
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 6:02 PM UTC
It's cold and it's empty, this
hollowed out feeling of pleasure...
I focus on the rush of desire -
desire for the sensations alone...
The sweet friction in my center,
the pounding force of what is
you, merely a tool for my cravings'
fulfillment; an object for nothing
but my physical satisfaction;
a satiating of my burning lust...
You're worthless to me outside
this externally needful task...
Not my heart, neither my soul,
have even the smallest holding
pocket, cradling some sort
of love or care for you...
Tell me, please, why we do
this to ourselves, over and
over, again and again...?
Are we honestly contented by
the passionless movements of
our graceless pieces and parts?
Is this animalistic ritual
the solution for what we so
desperately search for; that for
which we agonizingly struggle,
crawling down confused, tangled
paths, looking without knowing
exactly what we seek,
despairing, sickly, exhausted, and
so pathetic; so pitifully weak??
Are we satisfied with *******
Just ******* could that be
the answer to the question
that, from existence becoming,
the human being has been,
from the depths of the soul,
constantly, repetitively screaming?
I cannot bring myself to
believe such a notion could hold
a sand grain's worth of truth, but
you seem to have accepted
this joyless, hope-crushing idea,
and as for myself, I know
I'll only continue ignoring that
which my heart keeps urgently
speaking with a driving,
whispering voice, from my
inner-most recesses, and
continue on with the oblivious
dance of this pretending; this
charades game all the world
eagerly strives to play...
I will bottle the juices of
my self-deceiving, self-depriving
fruits, borne of my guilt, my
denial birthed shame...
Yes, of course! I'm absolutely
satisfied with the act of
mere ******* Feelings of
wholeness sweep and flutter,
butterflying the insides
of my body's unseen puzzle pieces,
and I'm simply overflowing
with this ever so peaceful calm...
Lies, fiction, deception, robed
by willfully grasped ignorance,
keeps us marching, two-by-two,
silently miserable husks, just
living until it's time to lay
in another void-like place, this
one our grave, lonely and cold...
And now it doesn't seem like
there's anything left, for
any one of us, to say...
Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 7:52 AM UTC
Light streams through the window,
Beckoning her to come out of the dim.
A spotlight on her blank canvas;
She was yearning to see him.
Oil, water and paint blend
With her blood, sweat and tears,
Slowly and agonizingly dripping
From her brush, brows and ears.
Then there he is, tall and bright;
A sun-kissed face dressed in a golden vase.
She painted his image in sunflowers:
He's her masterpiece no one can recreate.
Jan 26, 2018
Jan 26, 2018 at 6:17 AM UTC
Sadly this woman with the biggest heart
Has to rip out her most loving thoughts
She must turn cold
For over her, people just rolled
She alway knew they would
But she still did what she could
She so desperately wanted to belive
That everyone that was truly in need
Would appreciate what she did
She had the faith of a little kid
She believed there was good in most everyone
But now with all of that, she was done
There finally was that last straw
Finally a line she had to draw
This decision was agonizingly painful
After this, she didn't know what she would live for, would she be able
The pain of this was greater then all that had came before
This killing of her own soul hurt so much more
Than what any human monster had inflicted
With this her heart would truly be restricted
She took the broken pieces of her being
Ground them to dust as tears down her checks kept steaming
She knew with this final self inflicted act
There would be no coming back
There would be no more love, no hope
If not for drugs, how would she cope
With one last sigh
One last cry
She pounded what made her, her to dust
She felt no other way out, it was a must
The chain that bound her to helping others just turned to rust
It broke and fell away
She wondered why on this earth would she now stay
For with all the good she had tried to spread into this wicked place
She sincerely thought it would be returned when difficulties she faced
Only to find
No other human would act as kind
Every single person she tured to
Only replied "what can I do"
"I would help, but I must put myself first"
Her loving heart made her feel so utterly cursed
So she decided that was it
No longer with the afflicted would she sit
No longer would she put others before herself
They could all fall off the ******* shelf
This decision was not freeing
It was gonna **** her completely, her fragile soul, her being
It was gonna break the ties that held her to this life
But when she need help, no one was there to end the strife
Now this woman with the biggest heart
Has to rip out her most loving thoughts
Now she is as cold and heartless as the rest
But look really hard, there is still the stain of tears upon her breast
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 4:21 PM UTC
It came like a sudden darkness, storming up and snuffing out the already fading light of dawn,
When I found myself floating, above the ground suspended on the backs of blue clouds that kissed the purple sky like a clinging lover
Chasing the movement of birds before my eyes I turned to stare down at the blackness beneath my toxic cloud of color, at the puke green sea covered in the orange foam of soda where what looked like the remnants of my breakfast that morning road the frothy waves.
Pink,
Pink
Pepto-Bismol stained whales attacked the early air blowing bubbles filled with what looked like Oreo cream screaming happily the music of contentment
A cry a loud mewling filled the acid induced happiness of the moment, yowling agonizingly, as if possessed by the spirit of pain itself.
Thumping, Screeching clash and the ***** of nails had me blinking away from my floating tea party within the sky and looking rather questionably to the hunky dream boat pouring me a fresh glass of tea,
His smile plastered by the very gods themselves didn't waver, and in my dreamlike stupor I thought nothing of it
But the terrified yowling, hissing, strange purr-mewl didn't stop.
The sky no longer a pleasant purple faded to a nasty shade of plum conjuring two disembodied chillingly green slated eyes
Frantic with irrational fear I panicked falling off my blue cloud to plummet towards the angry green sea below
Falling, Falling ever faster staring up at the sinister glowing ambient green eyes, whilst hearing that terrifying screeching yowl, from the Cheshire maw
Slamming awake with the tingling sensation of a ghostly belly flop, I find myself still staring up at those eerie green eyes.
This time surrounded by a flowing mane of toffee fur and speckled with tan zigzagging stripes of inky black,
Buddy, with his demanding meow of attention, insistently pawing my forehead with the command of a gentle rub,
Plucking my wings, and crippling me with a cuteness that only he can have.
Nov 21, 2012
Nov 21, 2012 at 4:17 PM UTC
Pain was confused with Pleasure as Pleasure was confused for Pain.
Pleasure was related to Pain and praised for being painfully pleasurable.
Sweet, old Pain was remembered for being pleasurably painful.
Pain kissed Pleasure whenever and wherever he could.
Pleasure beautifully made love to Pain whenever and however she should, that way whenever Pain and Pleasure touched, ever so briefly, they would always keep a piece of each other, while never forgetting how close they are and will ever be.
Pain and Pleasure danced away their original definitions to come up with something more creative as intricate as their relationship.
Pain would smile and kiss away Pleasure’s tears and Pleasure would warmly bite away Pain’s infinite bruises.
Pleasure was agonizingly painful when she would attempt to show her love for Pain with her masochistic kisses and hugs.
Pain would lick Pleasure’s wounds in such a burning way, she would scream with delicious delight.
Pleasure told him: “I only let you kiss me and touch me if your lips and hands are full of intention.”
Pain told her: “I want every nibble to feel as though you are intimately writing the story of our lives on me.”
They naively thought the warm vibration between them was love: their bond that would eventually **** them both.
Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 9:40 PM UTC
Messiahs and martyrs
And saviors
And saints
Sacrosanct
Sanctimonious
False idol feints
Behind gates,
Palace walls
Fortified in a lie
An elaborate,
Enduring
Mythos we contrive
And apply
To the lives
Of misguided lost souls
Filling holes
With the answers
Of what never knows
How to be of this world
Without more to assign
What is so picture perfectly
Flawed by design
Intertwined with
The years we spend
Spacing in time
Agonizingly trying
To find
Our own kind
Out among the expanse
Starry satellite trance
Higher intellects seek
And destroy
To advance
The agenda, to claim
A new age
Under orders
Anointed upon
The consent
Of the heaven-sent
Nuclear bomb
Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 9:31 AM UTC
When you look up at the ceiling,
As you lay in your bed,
What is it that you see?
Do you see the cracked and peeling paint,
The water damage stains,
The tarnishes of time and neglect?
What is it that you see as you stare upon your ceiling?
It has been days since your gaze left the above.
What are you looking for?
Are you looking for that one little area,
That is still pure in its color?
That is free of spoil and coated in care?
You lay there, motionless, staring.
Searching, in your own creation,
Agonizingly probing your aged canvas,
In fear that that's all you'll ever see.
Ever know.
But you search, and you search,
You scan every inch of that ceiling,
In hopes of a small, blank slate of plaster,
In which to smother yourself in.
In which to call home.
_
'10
Dec 2, 2010
Dec 2, 2010 at 8:02 AM UTC
So many things unsaid
Pretending its just fine.
Wonderful you are.
At least to me.
Anger boils throughout time wondering if it was all just a game.
Silly game we played called friendship.
Where did it go?
Where do we go from here?
Nowhere. That time has passed, I have begun to accept it.
No longer agonizingly painful.
Almost completely forgotten, what we once were.
Never going to let it happen to me again.
This thing called love.
Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 4:08 PM UTC
ice water shot through through my veins
that's almost as cold as the barren landscape of my mind.
one by one every single cell in my body,
becomes numb to the point of insanity.
arms no longer move.
head unable to be lifted.
so you stare at the agonizingly white ceiling,
and try to keep your eyes open long enough
to see something with any sort of meaning.
something my brain can hold on to
for fear of losing the humanity that's left.
so I paint your blue eyes with the will I still have;
trying so hard to capture the light
that the sun himself injected straight into them.
and by fate or by chance,
I can sometimes get the color of them
exactly right.
the one and only shade
of any color
that returns some feeling
back to me.
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 9:10 PM UTC
When you flick the lever does it strain you? Does it stave you?
So agonizingly close to the truth?
Cynical is the nature.
Mame to ****
fool not fill,
mind over will.
To quarter intrinsically,
Stutter intellectually,
Engrosse enternally.
Oh untimely vapire!
Vibrent like the moon
how you steal from the heavens,
iluminating the path of shadows!
You! Sending mankind to the gallows!
Oh promises you gave were shallow!
Every like
every follow,
will this only end in sorrow?
Jun 2, 2018
Jun 2, 2018 at 2:30 AM UTC
Time creeps by here
Lazily waving goodbye, dear
And it slides agonizingly near
Before moving on to the next year
Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 2:53 PM UTC
I'm hung on the same shelf
Night after night, that shelf
That old, dusty shelf
My strings bundled up
So I can't leave this retched place
But in the morning you come for me
Untie my strings, and drag me away
The floor is cold under my feet
The lights burn my eyes
The cheering crowds hurt my ears
Then...the curtains open
And so the show begins
Master pulls my strings
I jump, dance, wave, kick myself and fall
But does anyone hear my cries for help?
They can't over their laughter
The humility is hurtful
The strings agonizingly painful
At war with the puppet master
But once again have failed
The curtains close
And I'm back on that old, dusty shelf
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 6:13 PM UTC
I’m tired of watching.
Gaping at this cinematic reality as it slowly sinks into my sensitive skin like hot rocks on a not-so-relaxing Sunday morning.
Disappointment after disappointment, I tap my foot with impatience, awaiting a ship that never docks, yet instead, tantalizes me as it nears the harbor but changes its course midway.
I’m limp, dangling over the wishing well in my bathroom that swallows as I heave; attempting to rid my body of all my pathetic hopes and expectations and watch as they are flushed down the toilet.
You are a dagger and I have closed my eyes, preparing myself to die; allowing my flesh to surround your malicious blade as you pierce agonizingly through my shattering heart.
I am (or was) a majestic sailboat and you are a bulwark placed dangerously in my path, resulting in a complete wreckage causing my sail to sink miserably to the bottom of the ocean.
Tired of seeing.
Watching each face blossom with happiness as my stems overflow with jealousy; I stare at the reflection of my forlorn face, painfully plucking each of my withering petals and allowing them to fall to the ground in defeat.
Feeling my chakras disintegrate as my large intestine absorbs my heart that melted at the sight of your hands entwined with ones that aren’t mine.
I’m suffocating, gasping for air as I hug myself until I am strangling my waist, searching for that comforting lungful of compassion.
Tired of noticing.
Releasing my last breath, I let go. Allowing my body to be consumed by the numbness that started at my heart as it froze.
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 7:10 AM UTC
I want love.
Hand holding, eye smoldering, heart folding love.
I want someone to fall in love with my nose, the embarrassing pimple that grows, the stuttering word that flows clumsily out of my butterfly-filled mouth.
Fall in love with my bare face, the way my hair is never in place, the sound of my heartbeat as it loves to race when I breathe in your deoxygenated air as your lips dance eagerly across mine.
Take me to the future where your favorite song will be my jagged laugh, not the sound of my keys as they type “lol” on my mouth’s behalf.
I mean, take me back to the past back when relationships would actually last, so that I can yell at you on the park, as opposed to typing “I HATE YOU” exclamation mark.
Fall in love with the touch of my soft palm, the way that I get angry but always remain calm; and I’ll fall in love with your precious words, as we soar through the sky like love birds.
Imagine us flying, standing on the porch crying, being exceedingly scared of losing the only one that’s ever cared.
Fall in love with my voice rather than the arrangement of my sentences sculpted into emotionless bodies on a screen.
Tell me that you hate my profile picture because the lifeless image captures not the breathtaking beauty of my flawless imperfections.
Substitute your ****** with a dagger and pierce me in the eye agonizingly slow. Stare into my soul as you go in for the **** to verify that your choice still remains at execution.
I want to kiss the creases of your brow as they spill emotion all over your anxious face as we sing our first “I love you”.
I want you to wipe my tears away as we split paths and wave at our hearts as they whisper their final goodbyes.
And when I look back on our amazing journey, I want to remember you and your words better than my inbox ever will.
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 7:29 PM UTC