I walk the world with thoughts of you
In every place I go
Your voice is on the winter wind
Your footprints in the snow
And every tool I try to use to scrape you from my mind
Cuts your name onto my tongue
And beats me till I'm blind
I layed my head upon your knees and breathed the air you breathed
I cut myself when you were cut to know just how you bleed
Now as I walk this empty earth with nothing but a face
To breathe me and to bleed me
Until I leave this place
Carmen Thompson Apr 2015
I'm so tired...
To just...
I try to love, what if I find it on a computer?
"It's childish?" "Dangerous?"
You know more than I do... I don't care.
I love that person on the other side of that screen.
They can hug me, kiss me, love me from miles or kilometers away. More love than I can get from my own family?

"It's wrong" "unnatural?"
Fuck you. I'm in love. I'll do whatever it takes.
I'll meet them again and again. And soon.

Face to face.
Meg B May 2014
Twisted
Burning
Toiling
Anguish
Wrapped,
Concealed
Deep
Beneath
D­isconcerted
Contortion
Attempting
Feigning
Effervescence.
Sarah Michelle May 2015
Sometimes your face is
a little blurred, but then you
have a little fun
When you come face to face with your own mind
Is all you find, growing wild within
Are your eyes seeking to find
The Golden Fleece
Once again

Are you suddenly fleeing where clouds have gathered
With a burning candle raised on high
Wondering if you have mastered
This profound race of life
Not a tear, you cry

Do you continue walking within opposing views
Saving certain parts of all you find
Thinking surely it’s up to you
To tame the wildness
In your mind

When you come face to face with your own mind
Can you gaze upon the wildness and smile
Not give a care if the fleece you find
Yet enjoy the journey
All the while
Copyright *Neva Flores Varga@2011
www.changefulstormpoetry.blogspot.com
www.stumbleupon.com/stumbler/Changefulstorm
Nebek Wormer Oct 2014
Itchy face;

Cold embrace,
Troubled by fate

Itchy face;

The taste longed for is
The glory of success.

Itchy face;

If only he could put in the best.
O how he yearns for that taste

Itchy face;
12:54am 9 29 2014
Marge Redelicia Aug 2014
let me lay my palms
in that sunken space
between the contours of
your jawline and cheekbones.
let my fingers hide itself
within the secrets of
your jet black hair.
let me draw you close
and closer until
my face fits perfectly in the mold of yours.

it's alright to cry.
maybe your tears will wash the
doubts
hiding between your
lines and creases and the
fear
exuding from your pores.

let my eyes fathom
the depths of yours.
i am sure that hope and wonder
are just there sleeping beneath
and
until they awaken
and rise above the waters,
i will
look at you,
watch over you.
i will
embrace you
until your head
stills its throbbing,
until your skin
regains its glow and warmth
i will.
it's unfair that  i'm having the time of my life while you're always out there crying.
Serena Rose Nov 2012
Green, wandering eyes
Beneath the smooth brown sheet of hair
With lashes so light at the tips
Looking upward at the sky

A sarcastic comment
On her pink, round lips
Still chapped from the cold
Of a brisk winters day

It was the face of someone young
Free of wrinkles and scars
Someone ready to face the world
Someone who looked an awful lot like me
In winter I bundle up tight in layers of warmth
Like a love I've never felt
Draping scarf over hoody over sweater over skivvy
The wind bites my button nose and reminds me of a love
A love I know too well
Bitter cold brief sickening and harsh
I catch my eye in an ice smitten mirror and I'm torn
My eyes look like hell
How could anyone love me like warmth and fall
For this fat face of shame, tears and freckles
Even if they do
They'll never tell.
Solaces Jun 2015
Where the candles illuminate your face..
Where my dreams get the illumination just right..
I see you there for a moment for an eternity..
As my dream candles reflect in your eyes..
You light up my darkness with your luminescent soul..
" My dreams of you are in candle lit light."
Ormond Jul 2012
Your face,
Tender, round and dimpled,
Framed with gilded, carved, tawny curled
Whirlpools of hair, long, lighted, and sparkling,
Your face is the face—
Of Ireland.

Your lips,
Full, moist and deathly deep,
Are wells, not well for me, not safe, taboo,
Tantric, tall told tales of brave Odysseus
Under Circe's alchemies
Of forgetfulness.

Your bosom,
The zenith of blossom in fabled
Elysium, gateway to the forbidden gardens
Of sage and sinners, warrior-poets, Aphrodite's
Envy, Poseidon's drowning
And smoldering Zeus.
Amitav Radiance Feb 2015
The lines on the face
Traces back to the past
So many narratives
And many more emotions
Have made an impact
Deep furrows on the face
Remembrance of life’s events
Sometimes tears flowed
Parallel to the lines of happiness
Etched on the face and forehead
A sanctuary of bygone eras
The face tells it all
Margo Polo May 2014
A kid I saw today looked like you.
Poor bastard.
Hopefully he grows out of it.
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