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"O my dearest,
     darling, bijou,
          born the silver
     worker's daughter,

"how so fortunate
     mine eyes
          to witness thine
     palatial wonder!

"Mine pleasure t'would
     to take hold and
          to pick the fruits
     among your vine—

"the shyest heart
     of rose hips what
          has pewter cruxes
     bold t'shine!

"And as eyes and
     I pay credit
          to a distent,
     nearing nimbus..

"These gem'nate
     tongues b'twine as
          oaken staves—
     the Brav'ra Lingus!"

     (..she responds,)

     "Mine auburn falls
for thee, my dove,
          but thy fervence, once
          to mine, abates?"

     "Quite, my dear..

"tho, ginger trapped
     in tantric bond
          what's sweetness, rare
     n'a boon, belates!"

          "..well, then
please use a ******,"
     she said.

As the murk
in the daedal
sky endured
and the
finespun
brume upon
the headland
peaks wound
all around
in a
helicoid
shape,

the fluttering
winds carried
aloft
a bouquet
of ions
that were
immured,
but still
danced about
in an undulating
figure of eight;

and when the
distent distant
cloud could
no longer
wait,
it's rain
fell upon
my
wilted form
so desolate.

Another poem that is all true
images of white horses



after cutting the green and long grasses
we like to call a lawn
and returning into my house of gloom
i hear what was the sound of houses hooves



jumping up and look out the window of my room
what did i see but two white horses
pulling a white hurst a lady and man in black top hats
then a stream of long black cars



when i did start thinking what a strange day
another sound did come my way
it was a low and distent humming
and then at my window a cloud of bees



someone said he that knows really knows
but really knows nothing at all
i really must get out more
if only to see the world go bye

Stupid little things that don't matter,
that get to me.

I don't know why I feel forgotten sometimes,
or out of place.

I don't want to need to be around you,
or feel like when I hang out with you and your friends I'm being too much.

I don't want to be that girl.

The one who gets upset when it take you over a half hour to reply,
we're busy people,
and neither of us are attached to our phones.

I don't know how I always convince myself you don't miss me,
you don't really want me around.

So I try to give you space,
but then do you take that as me pushing you away?

I never dought you when we are together,
but maybe that means,
I need to spend some time alone.

Maybe I have to get used to not always being around you,
not relying on you so much.

But I want you to rely on me,
and I want us to stay as close as we are.

There is nothing wrong with our relationship,
but my mind keeps telling me there is.

That I'm going to get hurt,
that I'm doing something wrong,
that I'm too clingy,
too distent,
too needy,
not open enough.

Sometimes I feel like I don't say I love you enough,
but then I feel like I do it too much.

My head is whirling with insecurities,
that I fear will drive you away.

"Look at you feeling upset because he not around,
or he said something wrong,
or didn't answer your text."

"Look at yourself."
I think,
"This is disgraceful, do you really think anyone would want to be with someone so clingy so needy so broken"

"You are already loaded down with baggage,
now you're going to be overly attached too."

These thoughts I wish could be silenced,
but keep running through my head,
I fear to be that girl,
but look at yourself,
look at yourself,
you already are.

W h e n!
my MIND left my body
to flot in TIME it's self
all I remember if it
is here
for you all to see

the air seamed to me thicker there
it was hard to breath
and while gasping for air
it was plain to me
that I should some how
not let go of my soul
for that ment much to me
all thought like a distent image to me
my soul I did hold

and while watching my skin
turn from white back to pink
I knew
me and that thing
I call my soul
came home.

She find it strange that her eyes are met with a endless staircase

          The world around him doesn't freeze or turn monochrome around everyone but herself

            Yet our heart sill drop when she walk into our room, Our focus is a far distent off. We get it everyday were our eyes out met with his you tilt your head and smile with you head filled of brids

He understand when you laugh to yourself.

Her stomach needs a million butterflies, when your around
When you smile it illuminates the room and my thought gose wild for a anchor.

Because your love and my words don't have a relationship with expectations to find or have a right diction.