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I want to warm my hands in you,
the soft merrigold folds of your
buttercream skin.
Lay in the crook your shoulder,
hiding my face deep in the smell
of ocean breezes and mist,
spraying up around me,
setting me free.
Trace my spine like the highway,
hitting every bump in the road,
sliding off the side once in awhile
to skirt down the ***** if my side;
tuck your knees to your chin,
like you do,
like you are.
How when I think of you,
I think of the cosmos,
and nebulas,
and star filled spaces
All clustering like broken glass.
Because that's what you are,
you are broken glass.
See through in most places,
Tiny splinters here and there,
so you can
Still see through,
see your reflection,
But when the glare hit just right,
you are inpenetrable,
no ones eyes able to look for long.
I wonder what you think of when you
think of me?
Do you think of wind?
Always around you,
touching inch of your skin,
setting you free,
or setting against you,
heavy.
Or do you think of somethin else?
Something worse?
Something,
like invisibility maybe?
Can you really see me?
Cause I don't think you can.
Not with the way you treat me.
Pretending I exist only half the time.
You let me do things for you,
put myself out there..
And then I get excited about something ,
or maybe I need you.
And you jut sit there,
and pretend I don't exist.
And it feels like my lungs have been cut out.
But it's okay,
what's the point of breathing anyways?
When the life is knocked of you,
again,
and again.
Joni E Scofield Aug 2014
Breathing in the impenetrable silence of him
as the stars caress our cheeks
and the moon plays the song of our love
I know one thing
I am his
and he is mine
Johnnie Rae Aug 2012
Can anyone hear the whispers of a vacant mind?
I believe it would sound something like, the crash of the tides,
on a hot summer night,
and I let this fill me up like the fullest cup, from which I drink your poisoness blood,
only to fall to the ground, finding there was no real reason, for this deed to be done,
for there is never any reason, for such an unjustified suicide,
but then again, who would ever take time to justify, the unjustifiable,
and to which mind this makes any sense, I do not know,
but from this pen, my words do flow,
and to anyone who reads them, I wish you luck, in unraveling the riddles of my tounge,
and who would have ever known, there was anyone so wise, all while being so young?

And no, this is not me saying I am any wiser than most,
I'm just going on what I've been told,
feel free to argue, like do most,

Now I will take this time, to make a toast,
to anyone who has ever done me wrong, for you are the ones who have made me so strong,
and while you may think I hate you, you are ever so wrong,
and now I take the time to thank you, for all that you've done,
because without all of your hate, I wouldn't be the person I am today,
and while they say sticks and stones only break bones,
I've used the ones thrown at me, to build an inpenetrable wall,
in which I hide behind, plotting my revenge,
for while I said I didn't hate you, that doesn't mean we're friends,

So going back to the question at hand,
can anyone hear the whispers of a vacant mind?
I do believe it may sound like the crash and fall of the tide,
and as the waves crash, just know, you're listening, to the contents of, my ever so, *vacant mind.
I have no idea where this came from, but I like it, and comments are highly appreciated.
M Oct 2015
the air outside today smells like people of all kinds
it smells like linoleum and air conditioning and cardboard
what is that? it's safety, it's knowing you are in an
inpenetrable hub. it's also change, knowing that this place
will take you somewhere else. It smells like love.
It smells like new revelations, hard goodbyes, and returning
to someone you know loves you. It smells like growing up.
I've been enveloped in that smell for the hardest
cries of my life, and for the most exciting, life-changing
moments. In fact, every time I enter this smell,
I know that my world is about to be thrown into a new orbit.
I feel safe here. Not sure why. They say we're afraid
of the unknown but they also say that life begins
at the end of our comfort zone- when I smell this smell,
I know that my safety net is over but I've never
felt more certain of my ability to walk the line. In short,
the air outside today smells like airports and churches.
Emma Henderson Apr 2015
You’re paper thin
Wearing a mask
Hiding behind the plumes of smoke from all the joints you roll
Behind trees, behind bushes, hidden away -
You’re always hiding away.
Dissapearing,
behind the slow closing train doors every lazy afternoon.
I’m losing you.

I wake with the birds,
you with the foxes,
searching among the sacred debris of your bedroom
Until the fix is in

I see right through you,
Your empty promises,
the silences you create- so thick and inpenetrable
I feel like I’m suffocating in a hot-boxed car.
Silence disperses when you joke about your future life;
Chained to a silver spoon.

Show me your deck,
Every card bears a picture of a white dove

I see right through you,
See fear so deep and real,
Your kind words die, swallowed up, withdrawing inside
Where I want to be,
Inside the recesses of your mind
where the voices reside

Poor Catholic boy
God doesn’t see right through you
Like I do.
Isobel G Jan 2011
You call to me,
From above,
Patience riddled with desperation,
While I slumber,
Waiting in Death's anxious hand,
Your gentle voice awakens something,
I thought it to be dead,
But hope arises,
I thought us both conquered,
But you breathe air,
Into my fragile lungs,
Reviving lost hope,
Stealing me away,
From Death's inpenetrable clutches,
With your passion
©Nicola-Isobel H.     01.01.2011
deanena tierney Oct 2023
He had these quirky ways about him.
Spastic movements when he was excited
Eyes that would dart when he was
Putting words to thoughts
Looking over his readers
A process of setting things up just so
To play a game of chess
Funny names for stray cats I know he secretly loved
He would tell me just how he wanted things
Just how the back rubs should go
Where the ibuprofen belonged
How the jacket should hang
He never once said he was sorry
He always thought he was right
He had this inpenetrable pride that he wrapped himself in
It kept the world out and me out as well
His own body guard - he was
Trust was a four letter word to him
Truth was whatever he wanted it to be
Love, just another thing to disprove
Because it made him vulnerable
He was always the first to leave
I loved him, not despite those things,
But because of those things.
The problem with loving a man like that though
Is that he will never see you
He will never see just how hard it was for you to let him in
He won't see the same fear in you
That he carries in himself
He won't ever try to understand
Why you decline visits
Or put your make up on
Why you hold an aloofness about you
He won't understand that you do those things
Because you are afraid
That he might suddenly find you ugly
See you at your worst one day
And just walk away.
He will never know how hard it is to choose between
Protecting your own heart and letting him into it
That all the anomalies are the product of
The hardest battle you will ever fight
To not lose your sense of self
To not become a casualty
To be able to stand at the end
Undefeated just like him.
And say, "Well, at least he didn't leave
Fully knowing me."
"At least I didn't surrender or retreat."
That those anomalies provide an escape route to some sort of victory, albeit one in a war you hope never to be a part of.
That they help you not flinch
When he turns the knife on you
He will never understand that
Love to you is so foreign
So unknown and daunting
That it's like learning a new language
He won't appreciate you are giving all you have to give
He won't believe how your every thought contains him
Nor how being loyal is the easiest thing you have ever done
Nor will he care when he turns your vision of love
Into something so warped
you will forever avoid it
He will turn every joy, every hope, every pure moment
Into whatever fallacy he chooses
So that he can feel shameless
He will make you the villain in his story
So that he can dehumanize you, hate you,
And discard you.
That's the problem with loving a man like that.
And **** all ...I did it anyway.

— The End —