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Rob Rutledge Jan 2016
She gazed out long and far,
Past half closed curtains  
And dozing, docile cars.
Witness to a world double glazed
Dampened by a passing rain.
Sound drowned still by fragile,
Stained glass pane.

Skies lay grey, like every other day,
Shrubs shrug and trees sadly sway.
She feels for the trees,
(And to an extent the shrub)
They're not so different from you or I.
We all plant roots, grow, love?

Thoughts disturbed by a startled dove,
Flew the coup, done, had enough,
Rose as Icarus toward the sun.
Basked in light of new found freedom.

Never heard the hunters gun.
Skaidrum Dec 2015
The black sun coiled around you by morning,
Gingerly tending your wounded mind
You basked in the tall shadow of two lovers;
Waltzing along the line of indecisive love

Seven has always been your favorite number,
As we embarked to raise the tiger-eyed moon
That desolate soul wrapped in your inked bones
Couldn't silence the riptide that conquered like our kiss.

You were an addiction that took five months to sober,
Feathering every "I love you" with a pitiful look to me
I guess we just headed off to war in different directions
We were spilling blood in agony for each other.

There are regrets surfacing in your heart
I would know,
It's in my palm, right?

"
I am unwelcome and detatched, it seems.*"
--                                                                                   Am I wrong, Lycan?
Laura Trueman Sep 24
On a cold night
Went for a spree along the shore,
Moonlit path beyond the horizon,
Beside darkness,
Walked on with dreams,
We went
Basked in the strip of glow,
Rich off beauty
Transcendent wealth,
Nereids in liquid glass,
Transmuted mermaid,
Moved underneath like waves,
With ecstasy seen the rising day,
Beholding a conch
Mooring misty morn
"REAL PINK  SPLINT BACK QUEEN CONCH SEA SHELL SPLINTING THE BACK IS REQUIRED BY  LAW AS PROOF THE MEAT WAS REMOVED" The conch selling industry  involves breaking the shell, a form of animal cruelty and it’s an endangered species
Sheldon Dsouza Jul 2016
This one time I entered a store,
Something to better my body sore.
Partied a little too hard the other day,
Oh so in bed I wanted to stay.

I worked my way to the green aisle,
Sunglasses on, I walked in a zombie style.
Searching for lemons with bloodshot eyes,
Always dreaded “the morning after” exercise.

As I tried to hold myself my rather flimsy frame together,
I heard a sweet voice say "Can I help you sir???"
I raised my head in a confused fashion,
Limes I said spinning my fingers in a circular motion.

She chuckled at me in a rather bubbly way,
This little miss handed me lemons right away,
"Have a cup of coffee it'll do you better!" she said,
Smiling at her over there I stood as my heart bled.

Her apple red cheeks soft and plump,
And her wavy hair was enough for me to stump.
She wasn’t the prettiest of all I agreed,
As she picked up the limes I dropped, I paid all heed.

She seemed to have noticed me right then,
Handed me the limes and blushed again.
I was so charmed with her welcoming nature,
"Let’s get me that coffee?!" I said like a hopeless creature.

Perplexed she stood there for a while,
"I'm working" she said with a hesitant smile.
I knew the store owner there, a good old friend,
For a day's off he agreed to lend.

I told her to get her apron off and grab her bag,
"Let's go" she said as she got off her name tag.
I adjusted my glasses as we crossed the sunny street,
We brushed hands occasionally as we smiled at passer-by’s to greet.

We got our coffee and grabbed a corner seat,
I smiled at her as my heart skipped a beat.
"What do you see in me?", she asked.
"You're beautiful Sunshine!”, I said as in her beauty as I basked.

"But I’m not all that slim and pretty", she mumbled in a sad tone,
"It’s just extra layers of cuteness sweetheart", that’s a fact known.
She cried and cribbed telling me about her situation,
How she tries to fit in a society that treated her case as a deformation.

She stood out of the crowd for me though,
The more we talked the more she raised my brow.
My thoughts and hers were an exact match,
Like old long off friends we did attach.

Intact our frequencies matched oh so quick,
We were left to wonder if it was some kind of sorcery or trick.
I understood her and she understood me,
May be we were meant to be.

I had searched in all the wrong places,
Investing my time in lean figures and noisy places.
Right then I learnt that love is not determined by rules nor is beauty by figures,
It’s that tingly feeling in your toes and in your fingers.
EAC Mar 9
minimal effort as I watch you leave, my arms cold from your selfish diseases, wrapped tight in comfort you had me under your sleeved, tucked in shadows no one will see..

pressed in books I couldn't be let breath as I crawled from anguish to a sunlight dream, basked in smiles from friends who wanted the best for me.

yet I broke every moment I remembered who I let leave, a gem who was sparking as the sun stroked her face so genitally. I loved for thousands suns, for the winter springs and august embers til the endless nights which kept me up with forever ***.

you were the one, the pressing mornings and numbing nights. the lift of love, and sobbing dreams.
Graff1980 Jan 4
The flag flailed flawlessly
then fell flaccidly
under the bushy
grey brow like clouds.

Restless winds
settled in
to a plain old boring
temperate temperament.

Then the dull day
gave way
to much ado
as the clouds grew
dark and heavy with
evaporated wetness.

The calming clouds
could not contain
their weighted frame
anymore.

Soft trickles
turned to
a thick downpour
moistening
my dry skin
till I was soaking.

Thin T
sticking
awkwardly
to me,

but the water felt good,
so, I sat and basked in
the rushing rain
that was falling.
Till, the earth beneath me
began sinking
muddily.

Then, I sloshed
my soaked self-home
sheepishly
spreading all the muddy
mess around me.
J J Aug 21
Cresol dusk imbued to rustic hypnosis,
The civic stroll outside,zombified with
What must be glorious ataxia.

The masquerade hosted by dust,
An implicit surrender to the elements,
Basked in nocturnia-- lo,

The elements ceased having meaning
When I learnt I could not hold control
  over them.

See the sky ramp and shiver,shuffling stars
In a showcase to those loving,an augury to those
Self-appointed sinners--

And see me,disconnected and without a care,
I surrender my breath as limboid tangents
And the elements do not rebut.

I am homed in becoming alone,
I am possessed in converse and I am lost
  without the choice to be otherwise.

I watch the gimcrack mannerisms loop effably,
Understanding the road to omniscience is tipped
In ego alone--

One must not surrender,rather accept
And work a way round the system.
The cosmic map is eidetic,it's lanuage
  dares not pander to speech,
  it's sleep is one day needed
  and complimentary to our own--

I listen to the madrigal and no longer seek to compose it,
I choose to believe that nothing is chosen.
(LONG AFTERWARD) I began posting here under a different name years ago and decided to revisit the site only recently after a string of publishing rejections,despite an urge to abandon poetry all together. What's amazed me most is the growth of talent,particularly one S. Olsen,looking through much of my older work(few of which ive published here) I've found a lot of similarities,from similar phrasing's,vocabulary,format's,viewpoint's,etc. Despite not knowing of him until recently. Simply put,he is the poet i aspired to be when poetry was what my life revolved around,the best of his kind. I would rank him among my favourite contemporaries and if not for this site I'd never have discovered him, this poem shows more of my voice than his,I think,but that is a further example of his own unreplicable voice. Keep strong,brother, whatever helps helps and your writing has helped me greatly.
The X Rhymes May 18
could have come off like a traitor
when he tipped that nurse a wink
saying ‘what you doing later
fancy going for a drink?’

she said ‘look at our left hands
where we both are wearing rings
stuff in common’s always grand
but that’s one too many things’

her lips not pursed or in a pout
her smile said no-one hurt
the answer never was in doubt
but still, it’s nice to flirt

and a happy ever after
since in a glow they basked
that he’d had the ***** to ask her
and she’d been the one he asked.
Nick Feb 6
Goodbye World,
I've enjoyed your Sunrises,
Marvelled at your sunsets,
Basked in your waters,
Danced in your streets,
Loved your forests,
Breathed your freedom,
Though I had all these good times,
I was suffocated by humanity,
Its non sense rules,
Its petty demeanor,
Its selfish tendencies,
And mostly worthless values,
But mostly,
Because I as a person,
Have so little value,
Just being me,
So goodbye world,
And thanks for your time
started to feel a little down in the dumps, and felt like writing something, a bit sad.
Tawana Jun 2018
Gold on his fingertips
His fingertips thus basked in gold
Gold all beneath his shirt
A golden chain to hide the hurt
Gold all between my hips
A golden flower now its his
I don't think I have to really explain what this poem is about.
Sanch Nov 2018
You’re gone
long before you were mine
Or is it?
I'm not even in the place to tell
I’ve drowned myself in these thoughts
In dreams I wished I would never wake
And I kept crawling back to a place
Where pain and bliss both reside
The night whispered to me, “It’s so close"
With a blanket left hanging
Chilling me to the bone
Alas, I opened my eyes and basked in the sun
The long night is gone
But the day I was hoping for
Never came
the title was actually from the last album of my favorite band
Micaela Dec 2018
"thank you for today"
i told him because he loved on me

he flooded my day with his sunshine
rare and raw and radiant

so i reflected his beams and thanked him
and the whole world basked in our glow

i thanked him for loving my present moment, and we shared the luminous gift
In the beginning when Adam met Eve beneath the canopy of paradise
they agreed on most things.
They basked in the perfection of all that surround, laughing at each other's jokes.
One day Adam carved a gift for Eve.
Tirelessly wildling the branch of an oak tree.
"Tools", he boosted as she stroked the small utensils.
"I'll call them forks," said Eve happily setting the table.
What came next sparked an age old debate, as Eve grasped her fork in the left hand, Adam in his right.
"What are you doing?" he vexed, scratching his head.
"That hand is incorrect!"
"Tis not my sweet, it is the hand I use to eat, I am in my right mind my dear, you are the uncultured one here!"
And so it began, as they reproduced.
Cain was right handed as was Seth, but poor Able was born with his mother's fondness for left.
Left hands unite
Dan Hess Sep 26
Should I find my memories forgotten
What of me would continue to exist?
As, molded by the life I am begotten
And learnt am I through what I reminisce
Should I be struck again with infancy
And gaze upon a world now turned anew
Should everything I lost be true to see
What of the man I was, could re-accrue?
Could every sunset basked in light my mind
Would shallow days gain depth in innocence
Is trudging through dismay what rends us blind
Or is the bliss of ignorance amiss? 
So shrouded in my mind’s breadcrumbs am I
That I might lose the path I walk, ahead
So lost in looking back to wonder why
That I may ever tarry in my stead
Yet if I tripped and fell upon my head
And could remember not who I had been
Would I forget to drop my crumbs of bread
And turn to journey onward without dread?
Need suggestions for a title pls
Skaidrum Jan 2016
...
"Take your crimes and medication."

Pill one.
I have come to loathe eating.
Countless days pass without a morsel of food,
typically weeks without a real full meal.
I find it remarkable, really;
that my sense of taste and hunger became living corpses
that linger within my mouth like something died on my tongue.
I have a few options at this point but here's my choice~~
~~leave the silverware clean, bare and cold---
it's purest when cold.
I don't even know why I am not hungry.
I never thought I'd see the day where I'd decline the offer on raspberries.
(They always will be my favorite...)
Now, my ribcage blooms like a garden~
~rib bones that beg to flower through
the soil that is my skin.
Skeletons don't sit at the dinning table because
starving is a special kind of beautiful.
Yet this is oddly okay to me.
And when I do dare to silence it,
the mild sting of hunger that pulls you like the moon;
It's regret that's delivered in a bullet or two.
Disgust crawls up my spine and drags nails along
the lining of my stomach.
Don't eat that, it's poison.
Rejection becomes my immediate releif.
Family and friends can't help but worry
Eyes flicker to the length of my waist,
voices question my weight when I'm lifted
the subtle stare at how my bones scream against snowy skin.
I don't blame them or the rumors;
I know I am skinny, and I know am empty.
I just don't want to eat anymore...
I am so sorry for that.
(Am I supposed to be sorry for that?)

Pill two.
Don't ask me if I got any sleep.
The answer will always be "no", or "not enough."
I was diagnosed two years ago with insomnia.
You don't know what suffering is until
you can't ******* sleep.
I didn't think it was that bad,
boy, I must've been related to ignorance.
It's torture watching the world never press pause.
My record is six nights and seven days, almost a full week
Caged myself in because my thoughts
were killers for freedom.
Why can't I sleep?
Here's the catch though;
I don't like sleep either.
No comfort calls your name,
not when you can remember every dream you've had since
the year 2009.
I don't have happy dreams, for those of you that do not know.
They call this disease hyper-realistic dreaming,
it's something my doctor hesitates to openly discuss.
(They don't have the answers to my mother's panicked questions or my father's accusing glare.)
They're terrified of the unknown too.
The concept of dreaming in such detail,
of every person place or thing
isn't exactly treatable
Fun fact:
I talk to the dead sometimes.
You know, people who have passed away.
They tell me it's the regrets that ******* you behind your back.
Hyper-realistic dreaming is absolute madness.
Pretty sure wonderland doesn't look any different than
the waking realm.
The word nightmare,
yeah, I don't like using it.
It visits whether I'm awake or not.
Doesn't make a ******* difference.
But the doctors only care about my insomnia.
Figures, I mean.
"It's just a sleeping sickness, strong medication should fix it."
Liar.
Rest has become a form of torture for me.
I'm sorry for whatever I did to deserve this.

Pill three.
Speaking of torture,
I own 19 scars that I never asked for.
My father is responsible for 18 of these scars.
Abuse is just a 5 letter word.
Funny how death sits lightly in 5 letters.
Pain is just a 4 letter word.
Oh look, so does life.
I've been waiting for salvation but I know I'm not worthy.
My father is the root of my depression.
I am his flawed design and greatest disappointment.
"YOU *******----"
hands crash into my lungs
nails engrave wounds like some sick reminder
you don't need to remind me
I already know what I've done wrong
please dad, don't hit me

Yet instantly I hit the floor harder than any stone does.
I cry quietly, forcing the sobs to talk the language of silence.
If he knows I'm suffering it'll only make it worse.
Praise is something that does not pass his lips.
"You're ******* worthless, you **** girl."
Insults act like vultures that never quite leave our house.
"You stupid blonde *****, DO IT RIGHT."
My grades weren't high enough to please his highness.
(I had a 3.975 GPA this semester.)
"I can't wait to watch you fail."
A disgusting disgrace of a daughter that's never going to fill the shoes of "enough."
There are so many times where I have been punished for
my "crimes",
kicked, beaten, scratched, sliced, man-handled, hit, and bruised..
I don't think it's fair to name the rest.
It's all an act of order to obtain my obedience.
The secrets within these walls sneer at me~~
~~how unfortunate that our walls are white.
You see blood is a hard stain to remove and red likes
to leave the ghost of orange upon the white paint.
I don't think you understand,
that this has been happening ever since I was his little 7 year old.
Or, you know, maybe longer.
Oblivion flew south and reality crawled in long ago.
You can't just chase reality out,
she's a force of nature that takes the life out of all of us.
I have been a victim to my father for as long as I can remember.
An example of the cycle of abuse continues tonight;
Tonight my father told me,
"I wish you were dead."
That can be arranged, dad.
You don't know pathetic until you've seen me lying there
after the aftermath that was my most recent "mistake",
clutching the ground like maybe if I pretended enough
it would hold me.
They tell me it's just the alcohol talking.
That all of this was his own father's doing.
My dad had it "so much worse."
I'm sorry your father hurt you, dad
I'm sorry you feel like you have to hurt me.


Pill four.
My wounds make their homes beneath my heart,
six inches to left, furrowing downwards.
This is the nerve that throbs in death's long fingers.
False strength will save those who you love.
Good thing I "believed" I was strong.
It's a ******* joke.
I'm not strong.
I am a white angel dressed in lies.
Yet there I was;
Standing with perfect posture as the universe
and my friends stacked their troubles
up my trembling shoulders and back.
Nicknames spilled off their tongues,
I was proud of these titles that I don't actually deserve.
I am the psychiatrist.
The Healer.
The Caretaker.
The Mother
The Saint
The Kind Maiden
The Helper
The Keeper of the Dragons
The Poet of the Wolves
The Moon Warrior
The moonlight weeping through the willow branches;
The Person Who Fixes Everything
The Wise Guardian Angel.
How couldn't they notice I was nothing divine.
Plucking them from the coffins of depression and despair
that they laid themselves to rest in.
It is no easy task.
And sometimes this means their words are
the gashes to glide down my arms and sides,
blood making the puddles at my feet.
Physical pain is bearable when it's for them.
Again we revisit the word
"Abuse."
As they are humans and they practice this sin
upon me.
I accept the harm with no self-defense.
Because I was cursed to love them.
Even the ones,
that reek desolation upon my soul.
They have all gone for the **** before.
You can take it out on me,
I will balance your burdens.
"Let me help you..."
I'm sorry you're hurting, I'm here for you
I'm sorry I became like this?
(I definitely am not supposed to apologize for that.)


Pill Five.
I have a past lover, she is my Wolf Girl.
I have learned to love her like ambrosia in a bottle.
It doesn't matter that I am no longer her lover...
She is and always will be my best friend.
We once talked about our friendship like a legend.
One man that went off to war,
and how he left his loyal dog behind.
The loyal dog waited for his master until the man returned from service and suffering;
the dog's love never swayed.
For many years they remained apart and alone
paths refusing to entertwine,
but once reunited they picked their relationship up and continued like nothing had ever separated them to begin with.
We never decided who the dog or the man was.
But we both have always known.

I hold her responsible for saving me, and uncovering
the remains of a silver child.
She ripped my heart open to expose the stitches and raw emotion;
below my feet sung the wolves,
along my collarbone perched the stars.
The moon basked in my skin when she told me,
You are beautiful.
I knew she was lying but I still forced those words down my throat,
swallowing the growing flame of black lies.
To this day I will never forget,
even if she has forgotten.
I don't see a reason to hurt, I knew I was unworthy to begin with.
Sifting through a jar of ashes I found our memories,
the day we first met, first became best friends...
She was the wolf and wasn't afraid to bite the hand that fed her.
That was how she taught me to survive,
Trust me when I say I learned more than just survival.
Casting a glance at the past 5 years I recall
what the value of strength was.
She lent me her own,
~so I bargained my way to the heavens~
a prayer for the day I would become a goddess of divinity-------
---- I found out Naïve was my middle name.
The demons found me and I had no fangs to sharpen,
so they tied me to a willow tree.
There I was possessed, and hung by my wrists,
humiliation and weakling branded into my ankles.
"This is how we put dreamers in their place!"
Is what the shadows screamed in octaves of smoke.
And that was how my wolf girl found me,
hanging and half-alive in my favorite crying tree.
She....
She laughed with sunlight flashing in crystal teeth.
Before plunging vicious knives into my stomach.
Until the  words gouged at places hidden beneath tender poetic flesh...
My screams never reached another living soul.
Dragging open my belly to reveal what innocence I had left,
I watched as poison caught fire to her words;
I was annoying
I was clingy
I was loud, unaware, and
oblivious.
I loved the same she had loved
stolen the moon from her nightless sky without realization
and caused heartbreak and spread disease in her wake
she knew what the demons did~~~

"And yet you loved every second of it, didn't you Lycan?"
~~~~
I know, I know
all of that was so long ago, yet I cannot help myself.
I don't hang from trees anymore,
and I don't talk to wolves in sheep skins any longer.
That doesn't stop me though;
The questions slither into my palms and onto the page
where navy ink scratches letters
into rotten white paper;
Like snakes in the tomb of my heart.
"Why did you save me?"
"Why didn't you save me when I needed you most?"
"Oh wait, right, you never had to..."
"What love could you possibly harbor
for me?"
"Did you ever love me?"
"No, probably not."
"Will it ever be okay again?"
"Why didn't you let me in when you needed me?"
"Was it worth it?  Jack I mean...was he worth it?"
"Was it worth those seven months?"
"You're more than lust."
"Did your sins finally catch you, Lycan?"
Wolves find glory in preying upon the weaker species.
You knew I was weak from day one.
"Why didn't you **** me when you had the chance?"
I'm sorry I defiled you.
Apologies that you went to the trouble of teaching me the hard way.

And finally,
I'm sorry that I dared to love you, Allie.


Pill six.
Let me put it in simple terms;
I hate myself.
I have come back from the brink of death for the thousandth time,
and I'm so sick of it.
My mind is a battlefield of depression and
I am no match for the darkness that borderline feasts on my soul.
They never left after they hung me pretty in that tree.
Thoughts that take my life piece by piece like casualties in war.
No, you don't understand.
I am beyond saving.
I have been,

for a very long time.
No matter how long I look into a mirror
I cannot find a trace of beautiful.
The glass doesn't bother lying to me, not anymore...
That's how I know all of you are lying to me.
I have let the insanity slide a dagger into my spine
ripping a **** upwards to my neck.
This is where bone touches the air and I don't recover.
R e l l a p s e
I hate everything about myself,
what I have become,
wallowing in the pity because I am far too tired;
to swim, to try, to leave.
I descend into the black sea of ink that
I bathe myself in every hour to keep from feeling agony.
As a poet, it's the only title I hold onto with an ounce of pride.
Among the fields of grief I lay in my oaken coffin
pathetic words snaking into my mind
betrayal chewing at my insides,
memories play hide and seek between lost and broken treasures.
There is nothing left.
Not anymore.
And never again.
What more can I give when the nightfall erases me?
How much longer must I endure
my punishment for being human?
I was never mighty but
my how I've fallen.


"Are you okay?"
Don't think, just lie.
"How are you feeling?"
Lie faster.
"Oh my god, what happened?"
Lie for their sake.
"How are you?"
Whatever you do
"What's wrong?"
Just lie
"You seem kinda off today..."
If you tell them it's all over.
"Kira, are you alright?"
Lie until the truth becomes one.
"Seriously, you're...you're sure you're alright?"
You can't let that monster out, she'll destroy whatever you love left.
"Are you lying?"
"I'm so...so sorry everyone.
I'm sorry
I'm sorry
I'm......s--"


I forgot to mention I have pills to take now.
For my insomnia, way back up in pill two up there...
Special pills that play roulette with the grim reaper.


Instructios:
"Kira, take only one pill at a time.  Please make sure to count if you swallow several at once.  These pills are very dangerous, potentially deadly if not consumed correctly."
"Alright."
"Take one pill, and if you can't fall asleep in an hour wait til tomorrow night to take two.  If that doesn't work, then the next night take three, and then four.  Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Kira, please be cautious if you take five. I cannot stress enough how much I want you to be careful, it could damage your internal organs. It's like asking for a light coma, for 20 hours you'll be asleep."
"Okay."
"And Kira...whatever you do... NEVER take six pills.   You won't wake up after that.    Promise me you'll never take six...
"I promise Dr. Cline."
Well, I lied.  Shocker, right?
I am so terribly sorry that I cannot keep my promise...

One
Two
Three
Four
Five...
Only....Six
that's all it takes.





I'm sorry is the only signature I leave on my suicide note.
...
.


I couldn't keep this in,
it's not poetry it's a rant.
Apologies for my confession....


But it's over now.
I was born into glory, so young and so strong.
Never imaging that I could ever do any wrong.
I basked in daylight and loved to explore,
Testing my body past the point it could endure.

I was surrounded by friends and family wherever I went,
Each night I collapsed in bed and lay peacefully spent.
I never thought about change, real hardship, or loss.
I truly believed I'd forever be a king and my own boss.

But as I grew older time opened my little eyes,
and I was forced to confront heart wrenching goodbyes.
The family I knew and loved so much began to fall apart,
and I was forced to witness my own mothers broken heart.

The invincible boy slowly began to hide and recede,
Only poking his head out when it was necessary to feed.
The boy suppressed the pain and the hurt that he felt,
Refusing at all costs to accept the hand he was dealt.

A shift within him slowly began to start now,
And he was too caught up to stop and only realize how.
The family and friends became no more than ghosts,
And the bright eyes closed as his life began to coast.
soulessgrey Feb 12
when it drops it breaks
into wholly pieced fragments
trickling down the veins
basked in lights that ceased to shine
leaving not ever a trace behind
Britney Lyn Dec 2018
I’m so tired of begging for romance in things that are less than romantic by nature. I refuse to get on my knees and plead to the tune of your hypocrisy. Affection and appreciation in the slightest would subdue this mind that consumes my worth, but second thoughts plague this waking body and fuel your comfort upon thy throne. Disappointment comes easily to a girl who simply picks flowers for their beauty when that is truly all they have to offer. Petals falling with her patience and wilt with her happiness. Good riddance to the man who took for granted a warrior in flesh and basked in the tears that filled his cup. Good riddance to prideful acts that pedestal his motives in the shame of any female who dare fall victim to his cause. Righteous is he who puts himself above others, a victorious smile smitten in vicious tendencies.
Jamison Bell Mar 28
My eyes feasted upon you like dogs
Salivating at the thought you
Honey dipped basked in blue fire
Poured out by the moon
My minds hands shake
You’re a poem that can’t be written
Moving like sunlight
Only I couldn’t follow
My moment in your warmth
Fleeting and coveted
Today, I sat under a blue sky.
I basked in glory, golden rays caressed my skin and greek gods danced upon the pages in front of me.

Today i made a decision.

A decision that was made long ago.
Long before I woke, before i was even gifted life.

A decision as old as time itself, one forged with the intensity of a black hole.

One that burns with the fire of a thousand suns.

One that has lived a thousand lives before, remembers the tastes of wisdom. Only faintly.

One that wishes to be all it was, all that is no longer.

One that wishes to see all these eyes can see before they close one last time.

A decision that states. That sings, declares, needs, exclaims, screams and begs of me.

A decision, quite and sure as steel: this is not enough.
III Sep 2018
Curled up together
On your couch,
Our hands intertwined,
Our backs
Against the hollow hum
Of Halloween's breeze
Lingering through
Dancing drapes
With dizzy dips
Before the cracked-window audience,

And the sun playfully peaked
Over the graceful dying trees
That lined suburban streets,
Looming over pumpkin
Patterned leaves, basked in
The approaching gloom of
Dusk,

And while the night
Tied that present to this memory,
I remember the scruff of your
Auburn hair against my nose,
The bewitching draw of
Some vague fragrance
My addict lungs yearn to
Breath once more,

And now,
With each passing October,
Autumn leaves never seem more alluring.
mars Sep 25
sitting in the dirt with my face turned up at the sky
i am thinking of you
i came to this place tonight to collect my thoughts
but i am only thinking of you
with eyes wide i open i came to the golden goddess        
begging her take away my fears and apprehension
i basked in her glory and warmth
and let a single tear roll down my cheek and back into the earth
but as she quietly crept behind the covers i am left with nothing more than my thoughts of you
the night is dark and cold and full of terrors
but i’m paralyzed by my feelings and held captive by my thoughts
insects are eating away at my insecurities and flesh
i want to know how to feel
looking down on the city lights and up at the moon it makes me feel small
i find myself thinking about your existence and how we both lived an entire lifetime before locking eyes
at this moment i am compelled, turning to the moon for comfort i see her and i feel the intensity of your gaze
you are coursing through my system like a drug like the blood that runs through my veins like the air i ******* need to keep breathing
all i ask is that you be kind to me
i try to understand the gravity of your existence and its separateness from my own
and i am thinking of you
09/24/2019 4:43am
#mm
Amanda Feb 5
Miss how happy we used to be
Permanent smiles we bore
Back then basked in momentary bliss
Not bothering to worry what lay in store

Lived day-to-day simple and carefree
Fueled by passion exploding in every kiss
In your arms discovered deeper meaning
Fell hard despite obvious risk

Thought I knew what love was before
Showed me I had no clue
One touch transformed all I saw and felt
Inserted into my world little pieces of you

Relentless pigments emerged into view
Gone were the shades of blue, black, and grey
You gave a wide spectrum of magnificent colors
Just so you could tear them all away

Would hold you til I had to leave
I would go to work, you'd go to sleep
Avoiding looking at the clock
Silent in seconds we felt creep

On a thin thread of comfort I swung
Oblivious to the inevitable snap
This fragile heart too optimistic
To believe we would ever break in half

I would come to learn though
Through ten thousand shattered dreams
You were hiding things all along
Happiness is never as happy as it seems
Maybe I remember it as better than it was because it fuels the hope it will be that way again.. but maybe we were actually that happy and in love. Maybe we could still be.
ryn Nov 2018
These hands...
Cast of clay.

Had basked in the sun.
Deepened lines marked their faces
and enlarged cracks marred their backs.

Rough and matured.
They spoke the language of old
and hid the ancient ruins of the past.

Held together.
Side by side,
they clenched the fantastical ideals of today.

However,
uncertain and pulled apart...
The future just falls away - a ghost.
A mirage that eludes grasp and capture.
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