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Sara May 2014
Down the back alley
on the cold winter evenings
your eyes stared only at me

I didn't smoke
as my father gave up
yet i didn't dare disagree

you parted your lips
you drew in a breath
and your body relaxed in turn

exhaling slowly,
you grin and you show me
how much your body did yearn

for the taste of a cigarette
the embers and ashes
matches and lighters, causing flickering flashes

you said I didn't have to
but I said I didn't mind
that the smoke in your mouth would soon be in mine

I did not draw back
my mouth- under attack
I just had to last the duration

because I didn't smoke
the taste scorched my throat
and gave off a burning sensation

It must have felt different
as just in an insant
You stub out the cigarette with a hiss

silently relieved
and now more at ease
oh, the things that you do for a kiss
Jacquelyn Sep 2012
The first few sips were the hardest.
Between the taste and the guilt,
I cringed, running away from
my problems the only way I knew how.

It took a few more to overcome
the burning, expired cough syrup taste
of the stolen alcohol from the thermos
hidden in a ****** box.

I felt my innocence tremble when
I called you down.

When my heart raced,
I had forgotten about it.
When you kissed me
in my brother's room
(my first, just another for you)
my innocence broke.

It was almost out of view,
a tiny dot along the horizon line,
the moment your hand ran down
my side and I shivered.

One last glance in the rear view mirror,
and it had vanished,
as you rolled on top of me,
lying skin to skin.

But the insant I grasped reality,
understanding what was about
to happen, in my big brother's bed,
my innocence won, saving me
from endless regret and rumors in the halls.

The innocence that I had never
before cared about,
the innocence I was trying to rid
myself of, won as it
put my hand on your chest, breathed your name,
and asked you stop.
It just sounds so unfinished.  But I like where it was headed.  Critisism's always welcome. Thank you, loves!
Lucas Pilleul Oct 2017
Petit, j’ai bien oublié de prendre mon temps,
J’ai oublié de penser et de réfléchir.
Oublié de m'arrêter, voulant réussir,
Courant tête baissée, vivant l’insant présent.

L’instant d’après j’avais muri, je n’vivais plus,
C’était bien mieux que ça car je me transcendais,
Et même tout ce que je voulais me souriait,
C’était bien, j’étais content, mais si j’avais su...

Si j'avais su que ma vie n’était pas tout’tracée,
J’aurais pris le temps de venir vous enlacer.
Mais j’ai oublié de grandir, c’est pas pratique.
J’aurais voulu vous le dire, j’crois pas aux malheurs,
J’crois pas aux miracles, ni à la pleine lueur.
Je suis maître de ma vie, ce jusqu’au portique.

J’en ai marre ce ces faux discours patriotiques,
J’ai oublié qu’il n’y’a pas que les filles qui pleurent.
J’ai oublié aussi de faire preuve de douceur
Dans notre monde fait de catastrophes climatiques.
Étant enfant j'étais carrément perturbé,
Rempli de questions que je n’osais pas poser.

Maint’nant, j’sais qu’pour réussir faut être couillu,
J’ai trop pensé au plan que j’utiliserais,
Comme si grâce à ça, toute ma vie changeait.
Je voulais écrire de beaux textes, rien n’est perdu.

Avoir un avenir, des projets, c’est séduisant,
J’ai aussi oublié ce que c’est de souffrir,
Pourtant j’ai décidé que j’allais m’en sortir,
Et j’vais oublier d’oublier, dès maintenant.
#15
ten comes rumble is it any wonder
fasten the window pane in the utter insant
below is the outer court jester in the fixture
fasten the applause to bleed no hanging shade

you have reached the desrt smile still to know all the great while
sadness begins wth a spotted port all to weak
you stand helpless in between
come closer to me

there is enough shaded Pine grafted from its design
in pillage to vain all ports
you got me on solitude through the duration of time
to summon the Willow all is at gas

taking a turn for the worst heavy hearse
longing for the variation of time swans do shine
why you wallow in the outer banks
searching for a harness caused by fate

I exist as a song can't we all get along
the rattle snake has called it fate
love the Willow as does gone before
there are hero's in the sunset dashed to the door

make me bleed below the trees rivers bleed
shade of pine created by a historic design
I'm a fixture caught in time

— The End —