"fiber" poems
With this ring comes a promise. You must be willing to accept it before you wear it. The promise is to love me for as long as possible as I will you. To love me through all the hard times that are yet to come as I will you. To love me and nurture me back to health on the days where I am sick as I will you. To love me and comfort me when I need it as I will for you. But most of all when the day comes where all that matters to be said is “I do” when I say those words you will not hesitate to say them back to me.
*Our love is not fragile, it is not shallow. Our love is strong and none can fathom how deep.
Our love is not short, it is not passing. Our love is for a lifetime and it is here to stay.
Our love is not one sided, it is not full of doubt. Our love is open and it is built on trust.
Our love is not for you or for me. Our love is for US.*
Some say that the journey into life begins when you first enter this world. I have a theory that there are multiple journeys of life in the life that you live. There is obviously the journey into becoming a adolescence and then teenager (it is coupled with school). When that ends there is the journey into adulthood (can be accompanied by but not limited to college, vehicles, taxes, jobs, stress). But I believe the two most important journeys in life are the ones about love. The first one begins when you are first born, the second one begins when you find the right person. The first one is finding the person you belong with that you love with every fiber of your being. The second journey is simply to spend the rest of your life with this person. And as I have went through both of these (the first being a bit rough to start) I ask you to join me in starting the second journey of love. I want you to be my lifelong partner in exploring the world.
If you choose to make this promise all you have to do is put this ring on your finger, and I will be yours for life.
Sep 12, 2012
Sep 12, 2012 at 1:48 PM UTC
Better that every fiber crack
and fury make head,
blood drenching vivid
couch, carpet, floor
and the snake-figured almanac
vouching you are
a million green counties from here,
than to sit mute, twitching so
under prickling stars,
with stare, with curse
blackening the time
goodbyes were said, trains let go,
and I, great magnanimous fool, thus wrenched from
my one kingdom.
53.4k
Bees build around red liver,
Ants build around black bone.
It has begun: the tearing, the trampling on silks,
It has begun: the breaking of glass, wood, copper, nickel, silver, foam
Of gypsum, iron sheets, violin strings, trumpets, leaves, ***** crystals.
**** Phosphorescent fire from yellow walls
Engulfs animal and human hair.
Bees build around the honeycomb of lungs,
Ants build around white bone.
Torn is paper, rubber, linen, leather, flax,
Fiber, fabrics, cellulose, snakeskin, wire.
The roof and the wall collapse in flame and heat seizes the foundations.
Now there is only the earth, sandy, trodden down,
With one leafless tree.
Slowly, boring a tunnel, a guardian mole makes his way,
With a small red lamp fastened to his forehead.
He touches buried bodies, counts them, pushes on,
He distinguishes human ashes by their luminous vapor,
The ashes of each man by a different part of the spectrum.
Bees build around a red trace.
Ants build around the place left by my body.
I am afraid, so afraid of the guardian mole.
He has swollen eyelids, like a Patriarch
Who has sat much in the light of candles
Reading the great book of the species.
What will I tell him, I, a Jew of the New Testament,
Waiting two thousand years for the second coming of Jesus?
My broken body will deliver me to his sight
And he will count me among the helpers of death:
The uncircumcised.
21.5k
I know that like a breath you consume me with every fiber of being
a need within me you fulfill
i stagger to keep up with you
the fragmented pieces of choices we have to make
our life before our hearts
our hearts lying upon the alter
our hands up in the air saying we surrender
we surrender to the life that is judging our motives
we just want bliss in the in-betweens of our love spells
our hazy kisses and our deep hugs
tug on heartstrings
while our fists collide
with a fight that meets at the corner
of compromise and patience
our love is patience
our life is in need of patience
and compromise
only words can conquer
communication in the least is the most
and it brings us closer
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 3:42 AM UTC
(gulp)
Couldn’t resist a minute more.
Relapse.
I again…
After six months sober...
Here.
In this pain I know all too well.
Ten years lost to this drug my veins ache for.
First breath in the morning and last thought at night, all consumed by it.
Every cell in me craves it.
That physical euphoria my body portraits.
Feels like someone has poured pure joy into every single muscle and fiber of my being.
It makes me feel so content
Every single bit of me is singing and buzzing with life and love.
It's like the ecstasy of ******* that first blissful, pleasurable pulsation of endorphins and serotonin.
This is what I feel when I first take LOVE.
And then...
And then, the honeymoon stage is over.
Fights erupt.
Never-ending debates.
Miscommunications.
Misperceptions.
No trust.
Accusations.
Lies.
“I’m done...”
…
Again, it feels like a part of my soul is leaving my body.
Again, sitting here numb.
A toxic love...
I’m addicted to,
And there’s no way around it.
It’s already deep intertwined with my veins.
Yet, no matter the toxic, tragic event that happened before, I sit here, and I want nothing more than to spend my life next to this soul.
To see his eyes unchanged as the skin around it wrinkles and grows old is what my heart will always desire— to stare at those eyes for the rest of eternity.
Dead air…
So here I’ll wait, until you decided to come into my life again and repeat this déjà vu.
Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 8:54 PM UTC
the frustration I had
after failing
to bring myself to ******
for the
tenth
time this past week
makes me more
furious
than depressed
seriously
my *** drive
has always been high
as soon as I
got over
the shame
society places on women
for enjoying
their sexuality
I have always used
************
as a release
relieves
stress
leaves me
relaxed
and
content
or should I say,
left me
feeling that way
usually
it was once a day
fairly frequent
but, it
matched
my *** drive's
needs
what the **** is wrong with me
I have tried
imagining,
watching,
reading,
looking at
every form
of erotica
that exists
I have searched
through everything
I can find
from
****
******
stories,
comics
and my search history
will let you know
that I've searched
everything
from
****
to
******
to
interracial lesbian forced *******
and things
worse
than that
e v e r y t h i n g
used to take me,
oh, I dunno
maybe three minutes
with my ********
after
around an hour
is when I give up
now
I even bought
a different
********
NO
RELEASE
NO
PASSION
GONE
what is
WRONG
WITH
ME
oh yeah -
depression
I mean
I knew it was bad
when video games
no longer
had appeal
that was enough
games
have been a passion
and a hobby of mine
since I was five
the other hobby
I started a bit older than five
but
you stole that one, too
after depression
beat the **** out of me
on Tuesday
I thought that was it
thought
since the next morning
I awoke
without the urge
to **** myself
it was over
nope
you have robbed me
of the simplest
things
in my life
that give me pleasure
no more
wriggling
moaning
spasming
the tingling
sensation
that starts in my toes
and makes its way
up
the length of my body
the warmness
that follows
with it
the
satisfaction
slight smile
snuggly
sleepy
post ****** me
I miss her
give her
back
I miss my life
give it
back
this isn't
ME
for ***** sake!
I am a ******
witty
humorous creature
full of passion
looking
for opportunities
to get myself off!
not this
depressed
apathetic
vessel
without soul.
you won't stop
until you have
everything
in my life
you won't stop
until you
put
my soul in your mouth
chew
grind
crush it
your saliva
breaks me down
spit me out
please
I am fighting
for you to cough me up
regurgitate
the essence
of me
let me put myself
back inside this body
please
please
no
you won't stop
you will eat my soul
until
ever fiber
protein
ounce of health
I had
is now
inside of you,
depression
cold-hearted *****
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 6:10 AM UTC
You said you didn't understand why we kept running back to eachother
"especially you with what i've done to you each time"
well i figured it out
We're fire
charged
I can literally feel the pull between us;
every fiber of my body
and thats why we fight-
always
always finding something to fight about
i truly think we like the fighting-
to get under eachothers skin , because we were too intense of a pair
But, in the same way
we're also fire with desire
we're electric
you bring me to life
you know my body and you know my mind
I literally crave you
*and its a ****** up cycle isn't it*
May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 5:15 PM UTC
I adore the lightness of your eyelashes
How they are the moment before takeoff
I adore your laugh
How it bounces like a cluster of balloons flying away
I adore your hands
How they electrocute me with warmth
I adore your arms
How they are strong enough to never let go
I adore your eyes
How they aren’t just a window to your soul, but to the entire universe
I adore you
Like the moon loves the sun
I adore you
Of a consuming caliber
I adore you
Like the summer needs just a hint of rain
*I adore you
with
every single fiber
of my being.*
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 12:58 PM UTC
My scars don't look like
Anyone else's-
They're more careful,
Organized, precise and
Exact.
Not light, but
Never deep enough
Never deep enough
Never deep enough
Never deep enough.
People always ask why
I do such pretty patterns:
Because this is the only thing in life
That I can really control
Control
Control,
And I find it so beautiful-
Though, not so much tragic.
My scars are not chaotic like a
Car-wreck,
They are consistent like a
Coma-
Proof that I was awake
The whole time I was sleeping,
And I could feel everything
Even though I could tell no one.
No one.
That this
Unconscious obsessive compulsion
Demands order
**Order
Order,** it
Insists by instinct,
An intricate simplicity.
Still, I will 'ever envy
Those stitched gashes, once
Gushing
Gushing
Gushing with surrender and
Serenity...
Each raised and rough coarse collagen fiber
To form a white flag
Forever etched in flesh;
To tell the world
They, were a slave to freedom-
I am only a slave
To myself.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 2:52 AM UTC
I wanted him.
I wanted him more than anything.
Every fiber of my body was attracted to this boy.
And I believed every lie he told me, about him wanting me.
Long story short.
He didn't want me at all.
Feb 21, 2017
Feb 21, 2017 at 7:53 AM UTC
Profound, that he lost his sight.
He couldn't get the harmonies to blend quite right,
So he gave up seeing,
For music was the life and the fiber in his being.
He didn't need another soul
To change his note from half to whole,
For he had something else to hold,
And music couldn't make his spirit old.
So, he wed the chord, he played the piece,
And he dubbed musicality the worst disease.
Funny that a musical obsession
Would correspond with loneliness at life's discretion.
--Emily Rutledge
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 12:24 PM UTC
two people, two worlds, two souls.
living as two; breathing as two.
Wasted time no longer wasted.
One sweet love finally tasted.
My soul is here for you to take.
My heart is here for you to break.
Vulnerable is not just a word, but a way of life.
Through the strife, you were there.
Through the wears the tears, you were there.
In the time where i was barely hanging on.
My heart, it's singing a new song.
For you, for you, only you.
Baby, you amaze me.
listen to my heart beat for you.
Every
Single
Beat
For you.
Pain is ordinary.
love is extraordinary.
You are my world.
The universe can't hold what we have.
From the very depths of the soul.
From ever fiber in my being.
I breathe you, i feel you, i need you.
My dreams came true in you.
Love is no longer imaginary.
It's in my reach, it's in my arms.
The touch of love, the smell of love.
it's familar to me now.
what people say is true, love is blind.
and deaf
and mute.
No distance traveled matches how far i would go for you.
the ends of the earth is too short of a journey.
the moon and back doesn't compare.
your voice is music to my ears.
surround me in your music.
life would be lost without you.
i could never find it.
no matter what to cost, i'd buy it.
even if it lasted for only a day.
A day no longer than a few hours.
Hours past, i miss you.
Tick
tock
tick tock tock tock.
you're not here, i'm not there.
wait for me, my love, wait.
soon we'll be together again.
soon we'll breathe together again.
as one person, one world, one soul.
Mar 28, 2010
Mar 28, 2010 at 3:59 PM UTC
To know he is my soulmate
Is the same as to know,
That the grass under my feet is green
There is no trace of doubt in my mind
As if the world is yelling “yes” to my very being,
Into every fiber of my body
His love trickles in more and more each day
Like soft rain soaking into my hair
Everything I say to him he must already know
For something magical has told him so
To explain is so simple, yet
From the outside world misunderstood
To feel this way which never once
I have felt before, so in love is one thing
But in love and so free
My body misses him so, as he says to me
Yet our hands have not yet touched
Reaching from across the sea
Like we have been in love once before
Many times is my only guess
I have never felt so calm and in love,
Like the same feeling you get when holding
Something so pure and innocent like a newborn
I feel a flow of love which will never disappear
Jun 1, 2017
Jun 1, 2017 at 8:26 PM UTC
Cray-Z...
*You know that you are, ******* crazy?*
*Think up a new grand goal to meet,
then drop the blotter, -to compete.*
*Are you movin' on up?
to the top, to a deluxe compartment in your mi-ind?*
Lenny?
Saul admired David...
"Admired,"
him.
dissolved him in, David.
*You know that you are, ******* crazy?*
*Look at the hands, -they swirl in, ceiling paint...
Thinking like this the world is NO constraint.*
Fuzzy
Futzy
Fickle
Fiber
Pick a pickle Whitley Streiber.
*Gargle,
Gasp, rinse and repeat.*
*Then Devil for the Heaven's seat,
and find a tiny child to eat,
for tasty things water mouth with treat,
nothing stained by water's meet or tendered strangely as complete.*
Crazy...
Carpet fibers tickle my neck.
I am a house.
Household item.
Bleach feels funny on the fingers,
they still won't change color back?
*Think up a new grand goal to meet,
then drop the blotter, -to compete.
Then Devil for the Heaven's seat,
and find a tiny child to eat,
for tasty things water mouth with treat,
nothing stained by water's meet or tendered strangely incomplete.*
Crazy you know that you are...
...is that wall supposed to be flashing?
!!!!GET OFF MY ROCKER!!!!*
Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 9:25 PM UTC
I'm stripped.
Flipped inside out.
Every emotion I've ever had for you
kept locked away within this ribcage
is now laid bare.
As I stand here,
exposed before you,
The brutal honesty of my love for you is now clear.
The 206 bones in my body have been
etched with the 206 love letters
that I've written to you in my head.
Every impulse I have shoots from my brain
at the speed of 170 miles per hour,
racing through 46 miles of nerves,
reminding 640,000 sense receptors of their need to
touch you
smell you
taste you.
Though I am just a humble man
comprised of 60 chemical elements,
my heart beats your name
100,000 times per day.
25 trillion red blood cells act as messengers,
carrying word of your beauty across
60,000 miles of veins, arteries, and capillaries.
Every fiber of my being consumed with
one thought.
You.
Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 11:48 AM UTC
**I have an issue
One that weighs heavily upon my heart
One that, if left unchecked, threatens to tear our social moral fiber apart
An issue I will express in English, with some help from my old friend *Swahili
Hii imenisumbua akili, kwa hivyo kuiongelea ni kitu tunastahili
Hii story ya immorality tunaichukulia so so light
Dem akiji'expose kidogo mbele ya kamera haina mseo, tunampandisha cheo kwa society, all of a sudden ye ni socialite
The new cool, eti ‘good girl gone bad’
Hiyo njaro siyo polite*
We have a lot more to live for than that which we seem to be aware of
It’s not always about a good time, or lack thereof
Our reputation as a culture I believe is something we badly need to take care of
*Siyo game
Siyo Jokes
Si eti mambo na fame*
It shouldn’t just be about who drinks, who smokes, who vomits and who chokes
*Hiyo lifestyle siyo dope
Na siyo right*
Six hundred and seventy something ways to die… choose one
I refuse to go… speeding down a highway, drunk out of my mind, on another booz run
However, I may not exactly be the right person to point out how messed up you are
On a scale of one to ten?
I’m probably as guilty as you are
******
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 3:33 AM UTC
The time was early or late - to us it's all the same/Our minds, a phone, two lovers alone and playing a lover's game.
We had made a promise not to speak or write those special words/Instead we chose to circle around them like a pair of lonesome birds.
Beyond all expectations we stayed true to our oath/Though in more ways than one it was torture to us both.
The day of our meeting was the date we had chosen/To express our emotions and melt lips long frozen.
But Life intervened and our plans were broken/Our love, it seemed, was not meant to be spoken.
Yet still a call was made and the reason why was clear/My patience had run out weeks ago and I simply longed to hear.
The melody of your voice and the thoughts in your head/And the rhythm of your breathing as you lay in your bed.
It isn't long before we start to speak of our vow/Though every fiber of my being begs to say it now.
Then a catch in your voice makes my ears perk up with glee/Could you desire to be first to say them to me?
Somewhere a clock chimes loudly four times/While criminals are out committing their crimes.
You become one of them as The Words leave your mouth/My love is now yours to take - North, East, West, and South.
I'll change and grow but there is one thing I'll always do/And it's whatever it takes to hear you say "I Love You."
For Jénay - My soulmate
I love you honeybee
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 2:29 AM UTC
Mine was carbon fiber
with Campagnolo gears
it had ramhorn handlebars
and I rode beyond all fear
Until I hit loose gravel
just around a bend
downhill at full travel
and I went end over end
Now I ride a cruiser
with a basket and a bell
it's got a loose cupholder
and riding uphill is hell
But it gets me where I'm going
and it's healthy for my scars
it makes me feel like I am soaring
when she is on the handlebars
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 8:47 AM UTC
Often times people say go to the gym, “It’ll make you happy, and you’ll feel energized!”
These are some of the things I’ve experienced or thoughts I’ve manifested over my teenage years. Ahh yes great ol’ puberty! Onto adulthood, yikes!
Go to the gym and lose that extra weight that your family and so called “friends” have been passively judging you for.
Go to the gym, but don’t lift weights because you’ll get bulky, and no one will ever love you if you look like a female Hulk.
Go to the gym. Go to the gym. I hear this left and right. But I fear that I’ll embarrass myself and that everyone is watching me.
Anxiety and panic attacks hold me back. And what happens when that clinically depressed person is told time and time again to “just work out” and “get out of bed; it’ll make you feel great?” What if they just came down from a manic episode and crashed? What will people say then?
Well I know what I want to say:
This isn’t as simple as the morning blues or that feeling you have after listening to a sad song that reminds you of your past. (Not to disqualify those emotions whatsoever.)
Depression is the ruminating thoughts that no one loves you or ever will. It is feeling so empty that your appetite is nonexistent and your motivation to do what you once loved is gone.
Anxiety is holding your breath and forgetting to breathe, so you just sit there in pain until finally someone or something reminds you to release.
Release all that you’ve built up. Stop the isolation, and share what’s on your mind. It’s not easy. Trust me I know.
Two days ago I went to the gym, and yesterday I went to the gym. Can you guess what I did today? I went to the gym despite every fiber in my being telling me I couldn’t.
I had the support of my mom and sister. Find a gym buddy. Start small because all the machines and strong people can look intimidating. But they all started somewhere and now you can too.
Make a goal. Something that is not too small or too large. For me, I’m training for a 5K that’s in the beginning of May. It will be challenging yet doable.
Sometimes none of us knows what we’re doing, and that’s the beauty and challenges of life. Don’t quit after one try. Your journey is now starting its new chapter. Stay in the present moment, and keep going. I believe in you.
Mar 13, 2020
Mar 13, 2020 at 1:14 AM UTC
"Remember in summer when we used to listen to the smiths and make out in that little hidden park?" He said with a little smirk.
"Tragically, yes." She didn't even look at him. She didn't laugh with him. She didn't smirk back. She looked ahead, stared at the open road, like it was a possible escape plan.
"I miss you." He didn't think. Its funny, the things you regret immediately, the things you regret as they're happening.
"No, you don't." The same monotone voice.
"Why cant we get over this?" Hes not angry, or pleading, or sad. Hes just asking. He doesn't expect an answer.
"Because I hate you." She said. This time she looked away from the road, she looked at him, dead in the eye. Her eyes were welled with tears, they did not steam down her face or smear her make up, they were just there. Like they weren't for anyone but her. And he didn't want to take that away from her.
"You're my best friend."
"I don't care. I hate you, with every fiber of my being, I hate you. I hate you like the sun hates the moon, I hate you." She said it matter of factly, trying to be hurtful. She didn't want him to think she was weak. That she would just give up on this.
"I cant loose you." His voice broke half way though, snapped under the pressure, hiccuped like a prepubescent boy talking to his crush.
She turned to him, lent forward and whispered in his ear.
"Too late." She turned on the ***** of her feet and melted away into the cool winters day, like she used to on those summer ones, where they would listen to the smiths, in that little hidden field, and make out. When they were best friends. When they both knew they could never be just best friends. When they both tasted like the american dream and homemade cooking. When the sun loved the moon.
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 6:51 AM UTC
"where it stops nobody knows"
Just a few words connect
threads of thought
in a passing moment
A fray dangles
by a strand of fiber
— a conspicuous
temptation—
an interesting
thread to pull:
If it begins to unravel,..
it just might not stop
until the tapestry
is a tangled ***
of unspooled thread
Jesse Stillwater ... September 2018
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 11:31 AM UTC
I'll ravage your flesh with a ferocious hunger,
devoid of any restraint or inhibition, as I immerse myself
in the pursuit of satiating my most primal desires.
With every inhale, the intoxicating scent of your flower
captivates my senses, leaving me lusting for the delectable
sweetness that lies within. It's a flavor that seduces like a
symphony playing upon my taste buds, awakening an insatiable
craving that consumes me from within.
So, my love, settle upon my tongue and allow yourself to
indulge in the enchanting sensations that await you there.
Feel the heat of my breath mingling with your essence, teasing
and coaxing, guiding you towards the pinnacle of pleasure.
As the strands of your hair intertwine with my grasp, I will
shape our movements with unwavering confidence, leading you
through the tumultuous symphony of our desire.
In my presence, the strength of our connection will resonate
through every fiber of your being.
Your legs will surrender to their trembling under the weight of
our intense union, while your heart and soul collide with a force
so powerful it leaves no doubts or hesitation in your mind.
You will know, without the shadow of a doubt, that you
belong to me and me alone.
And allow me to confess, my darling, that my words possess
a hypnotic quality that penetrates your very core.
Even before my teeth sink into the tender flesh of your neck,
my lips will grace its surface, ascending its contours like
a mountaineer seeking the highest summit.
With every touch, every caress, the walls within you will
yield gradually and willingly, testaments to the profound pleasure
I offer and the ecstasy we create together.
As our passionate encounter reaches its zenith, I want you to
revel in the knowledge that every moment has been a sensational surrender to the depths of desire.
My whispers, soft as silk against your ear, will affirm the
undeniable truth that our connection is beyond question or doubt.
It is a truth that we share, etched upon our very beings, binding
us together in an unbreakable bond.
In the end, my love, there is no room for uncertainty.
Your complete and utter enjoyment of our encounters is not
a mere fleeting possibility but an irrefutable reality that we
both embrace. In the whispers of our ecstasy, in the echoes
of our connection, the affirmation resounds loudly and clearly:
__You belong to me, my love... and forevermore,
you shall remain mine and mine alone.__
Feb 10, 2024
Feb 10, 2024 at 12:08 PM UTC
Dysphoria is like having to *****
You're sitting there, weak and trembling;
every movement becomes twisted into a bout of nausea.
You're pale and helpless; held captive by your sickness
Every fiber of your body aches to oust the illness
A vile purgation, stinging and hot against your throat
Waves and waves of sickness pouring out of your body
Until finally, feeble and wavering, you stand.
And the color begins to come back to your face.
A relief of all the gross and disgusting feelings
Allowing you to lay down again and rest
Without your head swimming with blight.
But that is not dysphoria.
There is no purge
There is no relief.
You are hit again and again with this nausea
No hope for an end
With every breath, your stomach churns
With every movement, your body shakes
Your eyes are closed and you bite your lip;
Any action can only serve to entice the disease.
No medication could ever relieve such a force
Of this malady, this fever, this ailment.
Nothing can calm the tides of dysphoria.
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 9:38 PM UTC