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"infatuates" poems
Waking up, The smell of strawberries Marries the air And infatuates me into An early morning's lust; I'm in paradise. Holding your hand, Fingers intertwined, As the radio plays And we stay with the beat. Leaning in, This is the moment; Strawberries flood My tastebuds, And then you blew a bubble to the size of your face. Bathing in bubbles That are scent-less, And I'm senseless And my hands roam And your mind leaves this world. A fire burns And seven bodies Bare witness to newborn Affection- And I swear a star was too. But I'll never see that star. That taste seems so vague. I came in and burst your bubble- Tastes sweet Until the flavor faded. So here we are, A bubblegum kiss later, With a layer between us.
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Nov 21, 2015
Nov 21, 2015 at 2:27 PM UTC
Bubblegum Kisses
if you have scars on your body, stretch marks on your sides, i will make sure you know that i love you for them. because, they are a part of you, and anything that has anything to do with you infatuates me. your freckles make you so much better. don't hate yourself for them. dont think that just because i don't have them means that i don't want them. they've always interested me, so they just make me more interested in you. every single part of you infatuates me, interests me, makes me fall even more in love with you. even your imperfections.
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Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 6:08 PM UTC
imperfections.
On the internet I begin to fret When I keep learning my worth Like I have been since birth This thing called online dating Seems to give me my rating The conversation is scripted No matter how I've flipped it I conjure a hello hell When they answer In the form of lol They strike a ko Once they type **** And my skin starts to fry When I read kthxbai I'm left staring at a computer Wishing I had been ruder So I become jaded And develop a slick approach My patience has faded And I start to think like a coach Drawing x's and o's To get people I chose There are those that stalk And those that balk Some just want to talk And it's never their fault There are those that are mean And those that are green Some are just teens All looking to be seen I'm the watcher Their profiles remain the same as days become the past I'm the botcher I either go too slow or too fast So I stay perfectly still And wait for my fill I become a scavenger ravager When winter comes I am savager To those I consider mere passengers Other vultures migrate south for the winter I remain sedentary on a power line Frost develops on my wings I seek warmth to survive I see a dying stallion laying in an empty field alone I swoop in for the **** My quest for survival becomes one of comfort For the taste of the stud infatuates me And my enthusiasm overwhelms me As I eat through its exterior into its heart I find its diminishing warmth unsatisfactory But I'm caught in its rib cage And what was once sustenance Is now my blizzard prison It's a big derision Not flying through the air But also not quite a pair So I wait for a summer that may never show My life lit by the computer screen's glow Displaying faces of people I'll never know My vulture's talons buried in desert snow
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Dec 20, 2017
Dec 20, 2017 at 4:12 AM UTC
Vulture
On the internet I begin to fret When I keep learning my worth Like I have been since birth This thing called online dating Seems to give me my rating The conversation is scripted No matter how I've flipped it I conjure a hello hell When they answer In the form of lol They strike a ko Once they type **** And my skin starts to fry When I read kthxbai I'm left staring at a computer Wishing I had been ruder So I become jaded And develop a slick approach My patience has faded And I start to think like a coach Drawing x's and o's To get people I chose There are those that stalk And those that balk Some just want to talk And it's never their fault There are those that are mean And those that are green Some are just teens All looking to be seen I'm the watcher Their profiles remain the same as days become the past I'm the botcher I either go too slow or too fast So I stay perfectly still And wait for my fill I become a scavenger ravager When winter comes I am savager To those I consider mere passengers Other vultures migrate south for the winter I remain sedentary on a power line Frost develops on my wings I seek warmth to survive I see a dying stallion laying in an empty field alone I swoop in for the **** My quest for survival becomes one of comfort For the taste of the stud infatuates me And my enthusiasm overwhelms me As I eat through its exterior into its heart I find its diminishing warmth unsatisfactory But I'm caught in its rib cage And what was once sustenance Is now my blizzard prison It's a big derision Not flying through the air But also not quite a pair So I wait for a summer that may never show My life lit by the computer screen's glow Displaying faces of people I'll never know My vulture's talons buried in desert snow
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Horrendous pain echoing, and yearning for fate Stretched and strained, swaying for relief Ruptured, faithless, and impure Poison infatuates death Hurt and betrayal lifelong As a Rusted spine drums beneath the hands of fortitude Poetic threads sewing the gardens of distress Terrorizing eyes of self doubt Somber inside the soul of shame Corners of worship with stars for fingers Pockets of hallucinations Trembled languages mistaken As the fire collapses the faith Tremendous pain crying for reason
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Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 11:13 PM UTC
Dreaded Thread
Complication is a word that I want, not to exist, But it always seems to, around me, persist. Calculations when I do for the good of all, Somewhere I get attracted to the selfish scenery and then fear for the fall. Anger rises, for the tree's not growing even after feeding water, But the water used was impure I know it in inside, So while walking away from the tree, my breathing stutters. But the water was pure when I took it in the jug, I had taken the care, But the devil infatuates me and his germs adulterate it, I am innocent so I get a crush on him, blaming only me isnt fair. Guilt comes for the rescue. How.? You would wonder, Sooner the guilt sooner the absolution and then works the sander. I know I have made a mistake and I feel sorry at the very next moment, Please dont dry away oh tree. I promise now, to feed u till u feel the content. Every bad action has the regretful reaction at the same instant in my heart, How do all feelings travel in the same beat of the heart..? I hold a hammer when walking this life with mistakes, the devil's call, Because when I try to find myself again, getting closer are the walls.
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Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 11:18 AM UTC
Absolution
Complication is a word that I want, not to exist, But it always seems to, around me, persist. Calculations when I do for the good of all, Somewhere I get attracted to the selfish scenery and then fear for the fall. Anger rises, for the tree's not growing even after feeding water, But the water used was impure I know it in inside, So while walking away from the tree, my breathing stutters. But the water was pure when I took it in the jug, I had taken the care, But the devil infatuates me and his germs adulterate it, I am innocent so I get a crush on him, blaming only me isnt fair. Guilt comes for the rescue. How.? You would wonder, Sooner the guilt sooner the absolution and then works the sander. I know I have made a mistake and I feel sorry at the very next moment, Please dont dry away oh tree. I promise now, to feed u till u feel the content. Every bad action has the regretful reaction at the same instant in my heart, How do all feelings travel in the same beat of the heart..? I hold a hammer when walking this life with mistakes, the devil's call, Because when I try to find myself again, getting closer are the walls.
0
Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 11:18 AM UTC
Absolution
Why must I be attracted to you? With your reputation, with your bad habits, with the way you touch me, with the way you drag that cigarette. People told me about you, hoping I would stay away. But how can I stay away from someone as bad as you? All the things they tell me about you won't keep me away. It's like you're toxic, my own personal drug I use everyday. everything. Everything you do infatuates me. I'm in love with you. I love to be taken over by the thrills and excitement of doing something bad. Bad boys, the worst kind. It's my thing. What makes it better? You told me "You're forever mine."
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Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 11:51 AM UTC
Bad.
She climbs on top, She has lied in waiting for too long Her gorgeous smile infatuates me She is shining so much, I do not recognize the gleam is coming not from Her eyes, but from Her knife. how stupid to think that She would bow down to me. how selfish to believe a simple me, could tame a wild Her. She found weakness in my humanity, She found strength in my pride- She fed off both- even as She watched a rapid red river rush from my neck, She lapped as a parting gift from that gorgeous mouth that crawled on top
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Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 6:16 PM UTC
The price of happiness
I have consistently felt a fraud in describing myself as 'determined', or 'driven'. Not due to any quarrel with my faith of ability or self-esteem; myself and my worth quite frankly stand side by side, in quietly ferocious agreement of what I can and will achieve. But, for the days that I find myself debilitated by this intruder, inhibition, I seem to find it much easier to succumb to a detour I have been prudently avoiding for the sake of progress. It is these days I cling onto during my most self-critical moments. As this invasive oblivion washes over me, I cannot fathom desire or purpose in anything of passing. The built up flecks of dust that quiver in the dim gap of the curtains adjacent to my bed make me sneeze, and act as an unbearable physical reminder of the overwhelming force that has seized any means of motivation. I bathe myself in a self-pitying despair, noticing my reflection in the crisis act of a drama, then turning off the TV before I can take heed of any resolution. Memory infatuates itself with devastation and regards love as a courteous aftermath of guilt. Then comes this hurtling, unapologetic force of liberation; a rush of self-destruction or anger, it doesn't matter, it is energy and it is mine. It's the only emotion I have experienced so far in my life akin to electricity. Poets write about how being loved by another is electric, a wave of newness whenever their skin brushes against yours, becoming real and sincere as it travels through your nervous system and synchronises the flow within your veins to their power source. That is until this surge of hunger rises in my throat, begging for an action. Passivity sinks deep, I come to terms that it will reignite, but for now I find myself enamoured with a need to create; to create beauty in my surroundings. This is the drive and determination I had inadvertently deprived myself of; steered by passion and leaving no trail, because there does not have to be material evidence for progress. It may falter into a wandering delirium, but I cannot describe to you the beauty seeped in knowledge of return.
0
Aug 6, 2019
Aug 6, 2019 at 11:46 AM UTC
to come alive again
I have consistently felt a fraud in describing myself as 'determined', or 'driven'. Not due to any quarrel with my faith of ability or self-esteem; myself and my worth quite frankly stand side by side, in quietly ferocious agreement of what I can and will achieve. But, for the days that I find myself debilitated by this intruder, inhibition, I seem to find it much easier to succumb to a detour I have been prudently avoiding for the sake of progress. It is these days I cling onto during my most self-critical moments. As this invasive oblivion washes over me, I cannot fathom desire or purpose in anything of passing. The built up flecks of dust that quiver in the dim gap of the curtains adjacent to my bed make me sneeze, and act as an unbearable physical reminder of the overwhelming force that has seized any means of motivation. I bathe myself in a self-pitying despair, noticing my reflection in the crisis act of a drama, then turning off the TV before I can take heed of any resolution. Memory infatuates itself with devastation and regards love as a courteous aftermath of guilt. Then comes this hurtling, unapologetic force of liberation; a rush of self-destruction or anger, it doesn't matter, it is energy and it is mine. It's the only emotion I have experienced so far in my life akin to electricity. Poets write about how being loved by another is electric, a wave of newness whenever their skin brushes against yours, becoming real and sincere as it travels through your nervous system and synchronises the flow within your veins to their power source. That is until this surge of hunger rises in my throat, begging for an action. Passivity sinks deep, I come to terms that it will reignite, but for now I find myself enamoured with a need to create; to create beauty in my surroundings. This is the drive and determination I had inadvertently deprived myself of; steered by passion and leaving no trail, because there does not have to be material evidence for progress. It may falter into a wandering delirium, but I cannot describe to you the beauty seeped in knowledge of return.
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If I were to live, truly live, I'd passionately comply to Acknowledge every flower in my path, with their torns or not; Appreciate their simplicity and beauty that drips uncontrollably; And admire all their fine details: From the smell that fills me till I suffocate, To their color that infatuates me, And gently brushes my soul, Leaving me oh so entangled In so much beauty, in so much perfection.
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Oct 7, 2016
Oct 7, 2016 at 12:10 PM UTC
To Truly Live
You were always there for me, You held the key, To my heart, But somebody turned the card, You somehow got lost in your tracks, And you forgot the facts, You were somehow not there anymore, You walked out the door, I couldn't see you and I felt so alone, From that day on you were gone, And I swear I don't know what went wrong, But I'm missing you from that day on, I cannot live without you, Don't know what to do, Everyday that passes by, I cry, Every tear that falls down here, Is a memory of you wishing you could hear, Me crying out for your love, 'Cause there's just nothing above, I love you so much, And I know you love me still, 'cause, I feel you in my heart still, Only if you would come back I could find the will, To carry on again, I would be so glad, If I would see you again, without you everything feels so bad, My heart is bruised and broken, A kind of loneliness has stroke, And I can't breath without you, And I can't see without you, Every night you're on my mind, By candlelight I pray for the will to fight, Against the feeling of emptiness, But it somehow infatuates me and I return trying to stop the crying until dust, I can't take it anymore, I can't sleep anymore, I can't eat anymore, I can't sleep anymore, I can't dream anymore, I can't love anyone anymore, Only you, 'Caus you have a part of me, Can't you see, If you would come back to me, How happy I would be, I miss you, so much, I linger for you, Come back, Somehow you are gone, But I can still see you, But it's just a memory, Without you I only worry, Why are you gone? A part of me has left me alone, I've missed you, Why are you gone?
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Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 9:34 PM UTC
Gone
You were always there for me, You held the key, To my heart, But somebody turned the card, You somehow got lost in your tracks, And you forgot the facts, You were somehow not there anymore, You walked out the door, I couldn't see you and I felt so alone, From that day on you were gone, And I swear I don't know what went wrong, But I'm missing you from that day on, I cannot live without you, Don't know what to do, Everyday that passes by, I cry, Every tear that falls down here, Is a memory of you wishing you could hear, Me crying out for your love, 'Cause there's just nothing above, I love you so much, And I know you love me still, 'cause, I feel you in my heart still, Only if you would come back I could find the will, To carry on again, I would be so glad, If I would see you again, without you everything feels so bad, My heart is bruised and broken, A kind of loneliness has stroke, And I can't breath without you, And I can't see without you, Every night you're on my mind, By candlelight I pray for the will to fight, Against the feeling of emptiness, But it somehow infatuates me and I return trying to stop the crying until dust, I can't take it anymore, I can't sleep anymore, I can't eat anymore, I can't sleep anymore, I can't dream anymore, I can't love anyone anymore, Only you, 'Caus you have a part of me, Can't you see, If you would come back to me, How happy I would be, I miss you, so much, I linger for you, Come back, Somehow you are gone, But I can still see you, But it's just a memory, Without you I only worry, Why are you gone? A part of me has left me alone, I've missed you, Why are you gone?
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