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"karat" poems
Intimidating intimacy I’ll wait for you to put a ring on my finger, Not a ****** on your ***** Intimate intimidation Assertiveness, not aggressiveness, is a quality fit for a Prince. Your highness, Dost thou want thy queen? Seems even marriage has fallen under the blanket of Fashion over Function. Wedding rings mean more than wedding vows. Gone are the days in which marriages fueled society, and Function before Fashion. Cheers to the weeping ages of an ill generation. If only love lasted as long as 14 karat gold.
0
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 5:31 PM UTC
Hold My Hand
pukul empat sore tadi seorang pria tua penuh keriput diwajahnya pergi melangkahkan kaki rentanya keluar dari pondok jati tempat semalam ia terlelap lengkap dengan pakaian rapih kebesarannya, sepatu boot dan tak lupa topi baret miliknya diambilnya sepeda jengki bercat kusam dengan sedikit bercak karat pada besi besinya yang disandarkan oleh empunya pada pagar kayu depan pondok digiringlah sang sepeda jengki menuju jalan sambil melangkah menuju tempat tujuannya selang beberapa saat, ia tunggangi sepeda jengki itu ia kayuh sambil berpeluh pada dahi sampai ke tubuh berbulir menetes tak ada ragu lirih ia dendangkan lagu yang telah ia hafal selama hidupnya saat ia masih muda yang dapat memacu semangatnya dulu saat akan hendak pergi berperang bersama kawan-kawannya dulu sesampainya ia di Jalan Kusumanegara di depan taman berpagar tembok putih di-remnya sepeda jengki kusam itu tepat di tepi seorang wanita yang sudah terduduk rapi menggelar dagangannya "Saya beli kembangmu, cukup lima ribu saja." itu katanya sang wanita penjual lekas membungkuskan permintaannya dengan senyum dibibir sembari memberikan bungkusan kembang kepada pria bersepeda jengki itu, ia lalu bertanya "Kalau boleh saya tahu, untuk siapa kembang ini Bapak beli?" ujarnya santun hormat sang pria bersepeda jengki terdiam, ia lalu tertawa kecil tawa khas seorang di usia senjanya "Saya mau jenguk kawan seperjuangan saya, hari ini 20 Desember, tepatnya 68 tahun yang lalu, ia berpamitan ingin menuju dunia Qadim milikNya saat kami sedang berjuang untuk Negara" jawabnya Pria bersepeda jengki itu lalu undur diri, dititipkannya sepeda tua miliknya pada sang wanita penjual kembang, ia lalu berjalan kaki memasuki gerbang tembok bercat putih bertuliskan Taman Makam Pahlawan Kusumanegara Daerah Istimewa Yogyakarta dengan langkah mantap dan juga senyum mengembang di wajah keriputnya " Assalamu'alaikum, Aku njaluk sepuro yo Di Mas, Kepriye kabarmu? Ayo gek tak ceritani kabar Indonesia saiki! "
0
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 12:19 PM UTC
Sepenggal Cerita 68 tahun
pukul empat sore tadi seorang pria tua penuh keriput diwajahnya pergi melangkahkan kaki rentanya keluar dari pondok jati tempat semalam ia terlelap lengkap dengan pakaian rapih kebesarannya, sepatu boot dan tak lupa topi baret miliknya diambilnya sepeda jengki bercat kusam dengan sedikit bercak karat pada besi besinya yang disandarkan oleh empunya pada pagar kayu depan pondok digiringlah sang sepeda jengki menuju jalan sambil melangkah menuju tempat tujuannya selang beberapa saat, ia tunggangi sepeda jengki itu ia kayuh sambil berpeluh pada dahi sampai ke tubuh berbulir menetes tak ada ragu lirih ia dendangkan lagu yang telah ia hafal selama hidupnya saat ia masih muda yang dapat memacu semangatnya dulu saat akan hendak pergi berperang bersama kawan-kawannya dulu sesampainya ia di Jalan Kusumanegara di depan taman berpagar tembok putih di-remnya sepeda jengki kusam itu tepat di tepi seorang wanita yang sudah terduduk rapi menggelar dagangannya "Saya beli kembangmu, cukup lima ribu saja." itu katanya sang wanita penjual lekas membungkuskan permintaannya dengan senyum dibibir sembari memberikan bungkusan kembang kepada pria bersepeda jengki itu, ia lalu bertanya "Kalau boleh saya tahu, untuk siapa kembang ini Bapak beli?" ujarnya santun hormat sang pria bersepeda jengki terdiam, ia lalu tertawa kecil tawa khas seorang di usia senjanya "Saya mau jenguk kawan seperjuangan saya, hari ini 20 Desember, tepatnya 68 tahun yang lalu, ia berpamitan ingin menuju dunia Qadim milikNya saat kami sedang berjuang untuk Negara" jawabnya Pria bersepeda jengki itu lalu undur diri, dititipkannya sepeda tua miliknya pada sang wanita penjual kembang, ia lalu berjalan kaki memasuki gerbang tembok bercat putih bertuliskan Taman Makam Pahlawan Kusumanegara Daerah Istimewa Yogyakarta dengan langkah mantap dan juga senyum mengembang di wajah keriputnya " Assalamu'alaikum, Aku njaluk sepuro yo Di Mas, Kepriye kabarmu? Ayo gek tak ceritani kabar Indonesia saiki! "
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35
katakanlah, aku celaka tersandung ke dalam lumbung asmara.                                     celaka kah aku mengendap-endap di bawah rumah mu? katakanlah, aku terkutuk seorang yang tak diundang tak semestinya duduk di ruang tamu.                                  terkutuk kah aku membubung asa di atas hampa?                  sadarkah aku         sedang menanti sekarat            dan karamnya harap? dan ku akui, aku ini binatang keparat --berharap dua cincin akan enyah jua dimakan karat. sampai jumpa cinta masa muda, aku akan menanti di ujung tua menyesal, sembari menatap harap dan nyata mustahil bersua. maafkan aku menunggu hingga renta, tak lain karena dirimu di relungku, sintas.
0
Oct 12, 2018
Oct 12, 2018 at 11:16 AM UTC
Cincin karat
The heat intensifies with my lonesome tendencies, and I fear palpitation from innocently brushing arms with a stranger. But when I find myself in a stranger’s bed (or a wineshop, a car, a park) the thrill is missing. I am a stereotype, a masochistic statistic. I am becoming the 20-something-sleeping-around-to-stave-off-boredom. I am an archetype that’s been romanticized to death. Save the romance, it’s greed and it’s hunger and it’s pure boredom. These men become gold. Thread after thread of secret affairs solidify into a piece of treasure, Like 14 karat chain necklaces that get tangled into an unfixable knot of links and claw clasps. I carry it in my strut and that is exciting. My walk is confidently direct at 3 in the morning. In the summer, when the heat is outside and not in my bed, I am unsatisfied. Yet when the promise of romance approaches, I allow myself to make poor decisions out of fear. So I make a different poor decision to get me through the next hour.
0
Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 4:00 AM UTC
warning: too much information
is Gold Twenty-four karat. Gold With curves and turns You'll never know Hips and **** And legs that go for miles Curves. From my head to my toes Slim? Is that me? No! I would never want to be They tell you to be this or be that They never say. BE YOU. I choose to BE me. Coke bottle Hour glass Womanly Feminine I am a woman I will be never be. Skeletal
0
Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 11:51 PM UTC
My body
"A" crowned my head with a crown like twigs while "A" was seated on the Throne. Notice how Baha'u'llah reverberates that it is a different throne, yet in essence the same One. Fire like a rainbow. Notice how a Prophet would gulp when another Prophet is "mentioned". Notice how a Prophet does not need to "believe" in else except God. "C" is same. If I am a Prophet without a voice from God, please don't let me speak. All the Prophets have transparent beauty like "C". Above the City of Immortality is the Valley of the Manifestations.  Where the Sun of Reality is home and all the denizens are refreshed and find God again from whence they have left.  Nothing but God lies above this Valley and the Presence of the Beloved is aglow ....in every limb. The Presence is enlivening and heavy in vitality. "I hate you, I love, I hate that I love you", echoes to hearts not attune to the Transcendent One. The Presence has a unique energy that allows Them to change the universe of lower natures. All stresses dissipate away. Those Eyes that see all of me. Energy as if from another world, as if always awakening from bed. It is sitting in the Manifestation's Tent. It is feeling Their skin become mine own skin. Light so warm that it is cool. Names have no place here, only Spirit - the Transcendent. I forget myself and instead caught up in "A". The fullness of the Manifestations will soon, soon manifest in all of us. 24 karat Golden DNA.
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Nov 3, 2020
Nov 3, 2020 at 3:20 PM UTC
Unnamed but living
As long as the sun rises time will continue to pass by Greeting those who just arrived Kissing good by those headed for a better life You go to bed crawling and wake up as wrinkly as a raisin A blink of an eye  and ten years have gone by Every year, month, day, minute, second its non replicable Non existing twice There will never be a yesterday like today Nor a today like yesterday Rocking back and forth in front of a warm fire place Looking at the non-stopping clock A lifetime printed in 90 karat golden sheets Capturing every stage of life Preserving memories until the end of time A person to be known thousands of years after their death Time machine Allowing people to re-live their greatest experiences All earth's gold brought together Transformed into a thin glossy sheet of paper An image, a picture A treasure...
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Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 6:34 PM UTC
Time Machine
Her upside-down rainbow that I mentioned sometime earlier... Still to this day guides me to my *** of gold  A 24 karat gleaming heart Illuminating the gap between my lungs  Flaring right through my chest  Her upside-down rainbow is so variegated  It forms without rain, but my eyes become misty every time her upside-down rainbow become straightened  I need her upside-down rainbow to arch and become prismatic  In order for my *** of gold to have radiance  Right now my gold is dull  Miners wouldn't have interest  My heart is monochromatic  Because her smile is absent
0
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 10:16 PM UTC
Motley Grin
She is the kiss I never knew Like the breath I never drew Like the thought I never did Like the heart I always hid She’s the taste upon my tongue Like flavoured lips dripping numb She’s the fragrance I’d never breathe She’s the warm welcome I’d never leave Shes my dreams of little sleep Of tears we keep and never weep Of things we’re told and never hold She’s the karat in the gold A secret I cannot help but tell She’s a piece of heaven sold in hell She’s the whisper among the noise A bleeding petal pricked by thorns She’s the truth I’d never believe like her love I’d never receive She is the past in my present She is and now she isn’t
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Jan 18, 2022
Jan 18, 2022 at 2:31 AM UTC
She is
We're all hypocrites preaching word of God. It's not what you do Monday to Friday, 9 - 5, that interests me, it's how you choose to spend your Saturday nights alone. And more times than not, you'll find the preachers spanked up in a brothel or in the neighbours bed when the one who placed that ring upon their finger thought they were walking the dog. Wear an 18 karat gold cross, hang all the Live. Laugh. Love pictures around the family home and go to church on Sunday's, but everyone knows they sit on that prostitutes hand print she left on his xss. They sit lopsided too. That handkerchief doesn't fool anyone. They only carry it for the paranoia that residue crack they snorted off her chest still lingers around their perfectly trimmed nostrils. We're all hypocrites preaching word of our own religions and changing the bedsheets every fxckxng morning.
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Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 11:21 PM UTC
Heaven Is A Brothel
~ I found myself more alive When I drank the rainbows from the wishing well As I wrap dark tales around the moonlight The wolf inside me howls Redemption is tied to a metallic dream I begin to bloom from the ink of a black rose Gold diamonds leaking from my pores Pulsing from poisonous riches I swallowed eleven silver wishes Laced with nightmares Half of me laid out like a board game Chess pieces sticking out of me like fancy tombstones My heart, queen, beats a checkered lullaby The darkness grabs for me With hands made out of dusty shadows But I slipped thru them like a ghost I armored myself with broken mirrors I slip thru a chromatic hole filled with indigo ink Which licks at my canvas skin I fall Endlessly In a portal made out of my tears The darkness of my past tumbles after me But I found a rip in my tears I walk into it and step out of my dreams I'm calloused in crystals As my metal back splits Two iron, crimson wings unravel from my broken skin The gold diamonds shoots back into my pores Traveling to my eyes core My golden blood is replaced with tears My skin now cries My eyes, pure gold My vision, karat Worlds dance beneath my veins My tongue has stretched and thinned Vibrating with hisses of colors I speak untold languages Which wilts and blooms I flex my iron wings Symbols threading themselves thru my skin I smile Fangs made of poetry Transformation complete * Synthesis Hybrid* I found myself more alive When I drank the rainbows from the wishing well... ~
0
Aug 29, 2015
Aug 29, 2015 at 4:15 AM UTC
Dip of Alloy
~ I found myself more alive When I drank the rainbows from the wishing well As I wrap dark tales around the moonlight The wolf inside me howls Redemption is tied to a metallic dream I begin to bloom from the ink of a black rose Gold diamonds leaking from my pores Pulsing from poisonous riches I swallowed eleven silver wishes Laced with nightmares Half of me laid out like a board game Chess pieces sticking out of me like fancy tombstones My heart, queen, beats a checkered lullaby The darkness grabs for me With hands made out of dusty shadows But I slipped thru them like a ghost I armored myself with broken mirrors I slip thru a chromatic hole filled with indigo ink Which licks at my canvas skin I fall Endlessly In a portal made out of my tears The darkness of my past tumbles after me But I found a rip in my tears I walk into it and step out of my dreams I'm calloused in crystals As my metal back splits Two iron, crimson wings unravel from my broken skin The gold diamonds shoots back into my pores Traveling to my eyes core My golden blood is replaced with tears My skin now cries My eyes, pure gold My vision, karat Worlds dance beneath my veins My tongue has stretched and thinned Vibrating with hisses of colors I speak untold languages Which wilts and blooms I flex my iron wings Symbols threading themselves thru my skin I smile Fangs made of poetry Transformation complete * Synthesis Hybrid* I found myself more alive When I drank the rainbows from the wishing well... ~
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49
I'm your dark reflection Hear the people singing Fighters, lovers Lonely women on they'r own in the cool spring time air Look me in the eye In this mirror will you see me Deteriorating? Come miss, let's go outside and go for a walk Golden sunshine, starry night time Afternoon rush hour, it is crunch time I am doubtful next to my boyfriend Walk me to The Grand Canyon Where my secrets can fill it's spaces Salads with dressings of kings Licorice candy, water of plenty Sleep in my bed he said to the sightseer Calling her attention to his desires I'm leaving now You are to forceful My body is temple It's not yours it is mine Give me your goose Your golden egg laying goose I'm down on my luck And need a karat or two Walking the highway All by myself I am in transit There are no pit stops Look in the mirror Lady of fortune I am what you see But not what you are
0
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 12:53 AM UTC
Cheval Glass
I squint so hard I can’t believe my eyes are not diamonds yet, and there you are. There you are, walking. Away from me. With your dress on a date with the wind. I think you have a rock stuck in your left shoe. Your hair is a 14 karat waterfall and I don’t need to imagine the skin you have pierced with your eyes, I still have a stud in my heart somewhere. It’s a nice memento but inconvenient at airports.
0
Jul 29, 2011
Jul 29, 2011 at 1:58 AM UTC
goodbye.
Gadis kecil di buskota cekung matanya yang usang bikin jiwaku merasa berdosa saat dia menodongku dengan sebuah kaleng tanpa koin dengan karat di bibirnya.
0
Jun 18, 2011
Jun 18, 2011 at 6:41 AM UTC
Gadis Kecil di Buskota
Stories about people aren’t really about people this tale is a separate reality full of opinions and perception based senses I saw Michele’s addiction as a sketchy weather forecast the most famous weathermen lie the most, ya know She watched the sobriety of her life zoom by a whirlpool of backstreets flew by them in Chance’s silver Chevy malibu going 80 mph through our quiet suburban town she waved at every lightning strike the moment before electrocution you see, she was in love with blinding pain out of control burning rubber scented pain and I, tried so hard to be her fire extinguisher, her seatbelt I wanted her smile to radiate every karat lodged in her throat because her words are precious diamonds Her mind is a museum built upon three floors the first floor is tragedy concrete blankets and concrete misconceptions of what feeling safe is like shadows with shark like teeth she can never escape their threat of gnawing it even reaches her on the roof the second floor is forest green in-between escape and peaceful freedom she was born an observer, a lover of hidden oddities an explorer of broken wide eyed hope she could smile at a mosquito and every spider would willingly starve to death the third flow is a fireplace in the middle of a bonfire a wishing well anchored in the atlantic ocean everything she deserves, harmonious orchestras of sobriety salvation are stationed in a country dependent on chemicals she will never get the shooting star she deserves because she’s been soaring through our galaxy for lightyears a blazing comet amongst dull asteroids
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Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 12:34 PM UTC
Shelly's Museum
Stories about people aren’t really about people this tale is a separate reality full of opinions and perception based senses I saw Michele’s addiction as a sketchy weather forecast the most famous weathermen lie the most, ya know She watched the sobriety of her life zoom by a whirlpool of backstreets flew by them in Chance’s silver Chevy malibu going 80 mph through our quiet suburban town she waved at every lightning strike the moment before electrocution you see, she was in love with blinding pain out of control burning rubber scented pain and I, tried so hard to be her fire extinguisher, her seatbelt I wanted her smile to radiate every karat lodged in her throat because her words are precious diamonds Her mind is a museum built upon three floors the first floor is tragedy concrete blankets and concrete misconceptions of what feeling safe is like shadows with shark like teeth she can never escape their threat of gnawing it even reaches her on the roof the second floor is forest green in-between escape and peaceful freedom she was born an observer, a lover of hidden oddities an explorer of broken wide eyed hope she could smile at a mosquito and every spider would willingly starve to death the third flow is a fireplace in the middle of a bonfire a wishing well anchored in the atlantic ocean everything she deserves, harmonious orchestras of sobriety salvation are stationed in a country dependent on chemicals she will never get the shooting star she deserves because she’s been soaring through our galaxy for lightyears a blazing comet amongst dull asteroids
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35
I do not need a fancy proper date nor for you to wear suit&tie; order the most expensive entrées; Duck with Cherries In Chianti names of the dishes that are outstanding Servant to serve classy white wine to cheers to our anniversary I do not need   a sparkling silver-white gown made by luxurious fabric embroidered with stunning floral patterns countless layers of tulle to have a dance with you and your classy tuxedo that'll make a spotlight shine on us while we dance gracefully upon the dance floor I do not need A diamond ring platinum band filled with distinctive characteristic our love story in our engagement ring finish it with a 20 karat diamond that represents infinity of our relationship All I ask is you to stay by my side when I need you when I call out for your name and you'd be there for me comfort me protect me cheer for me Is it a selfish request ? because all i ask was simple but you couldn't do that for me instead you decided to leave.
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Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 3:44 AM UTC
All I ask is you to stay
Sparrows tumbled from my throat, which is to say that my Grandfather is on the phone and my Spanish is not what it used to be. I spin silky yarns across the sea of an American Dream he’s only seen in telenovelas. He wants to know what mom left home for so I fill sidewalk cracks with 24 karat gold and turn graffiti into stained glass marvels. He drinks in my descriptions like communion wine, savors each syllable like it’s the crimson Blood of Christ and I pray that he believes me. God, I pray that he believes. The heat hasn’t worked for weeks but I paint him a fireplace, a winding spiral staircase, a home mud could never dream of. I don’t mention the growing mold or how when it rains, it leaks, or the landlord tired of bounced checks or how mom cries when she thinks i’m asleep but through the sprawling, tangled wires i’ll give abuelo the world, and tonight, he’ll sleep better than ever before.
0
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 11:13 PM UTC
Que Es Decir
Served on a plate of fine bone china Rimmed in eighteen Karat gold Sitting on top A Delmonico steak Potatoes shaped as flowers Wine to enhance her taste buds Then came dessert Pralines and creme To sooth the pain Of a whipping tongue The Cinderella moment Incinerated in the game Of bait and switch PUBLISHED BY THEPOETCOMMUNITY.COM
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Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 7:43 PM UTC
The Set Up by Judy Moskowitz
The seas flaming in waves spree Rolling out rainbows in picturesque On the seas billows in emerald As beauty cascading on golden Mountains in waterfall of  Glory In a 7-karat gold ethereal splendour!
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Apr 9, 2019
Apr 9, 2019 at 11:46 PM UTC
ON THE POET'S CANVAS
There’s an old saying From some song About a heart of gold And a man who mined for it, But I’ve always wondered Whose chest he carved up To get that golden heart, Whose veins he tapped like maple trees For the molten yellow blood, Whose scabs he picked For the coagulated ore. I think I’d rather have the mine Than the man who wrote that song. Even dug out and hollowed it was still The home of a 24 karat heart, a hard metal heart, Precious for its softness. Yes, even emptied I would want the mine And the miner be ******
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May 19, 2011
May 19, 2011 at 7:55 PM UTC
No Offense to Neil Young
my hand still reaches for the spot on my chest where the necklace you bought me once rested because muscle memory has not forgotten how much you meant to me
0
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 2:24 AM UTC
twenty four karat gold
I swear she's an angel with scapulae for wings She sleeps with her back to me so I can feel their beating in my chest How I want to be the sin for which an angel fell Her golden mane falls drunkenly on her shoulders One day I found a 14 karat thread clinging to the shower wall And I  tore out one of my own just to be there with yours If I could, I would grow your hair from my pores Just to feel that much closer once more
0
Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 1:29 PM UTC
The Devil in Me
last night I posted a twelve bar salute to my homies in The Black Mountain Crew, you know, creeley, olson, the rest jack kerouac and that road trip all over a dope *** beat for real tho shout out to nateive son idk why but as I was writing this I was reminded of him **** game tight with my yacht-master 2 18-karat on a jesus piece i roll with my rolie i ***** with my homie Allen Ginsberg on Instagram If you can believe it but god dam Harry Styles has like 20 million more followers so **** that idk tho Al told me we was gonna get a face tat i bet he'll be swimming in clout
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Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 2:22 AM UTC
Allen Ginsberg on Instagram
sometimes i wrap your jacket around my pillow and bury my face in it before i fall asleep it smells like summer in a hot kitchen after long work shifts sweaty and spicy smells like the first night i put my head on your chest your arm went around my shoulder and i could feel my heart thudding out of my ribs when you kissed me without warning i panicked and the next time you asked before you brushed your lips against my cheek and then i felt the stars flicker in my bones i remember the day i threw flour at you for no reason and you didn’t get mad or anything just kind of stared at me the day i stuck a rose in my teeth declared myself a princess and we went to the mall the day i stole some alstra from my mother’s yellow pitcher put them in a tin can and gave them to you gerbera daisies your hand in mine it’s been a year and i find myself falling in love all over again every week with your smile with the dimple in your right cheek your laugh your hands how good you are to me even when i don’t deserve it and how i never know exactly what you’re thinking up in that blonde head of yours of course you’re not perfect but you’re the closest **** thing i’ve ever found to it and i miss last summer sometimes the brand new flutter in my stomach and the crashing and tripping over the side of the big commercial sink and into feelings but i wouldn’t turn back time for anything and i hope i never have to sleep without you by my side again after this month i never wanted an expensive champagne twenty four karat designer tag kind of love and that’s never what you wanted to give me all i wanted was you and that’s what you’ve given me when i say “i love you” you say “i know you do” how good it is to have someone the safety of home and adventure of living to blow a kiss and know you’ll catch it to grab your hand and know you’ll hold it to love and to be loved you’re my soft place to land and i’ll be your right hand you’re the only decision i ever made the only chance i was willing to take and heaven forbid something goes wrong but you’re the only possible mistake that i would be happy to make it takes time for love to spread its roots and begin to grow upwards and bloom but i’m willing to wait as long as it’s for you and it hasn’t been easy lately i’ve put a lot of tears into your favorite hoodie been hanging into you for dear life but i have to believe this won’t last forever that you and me are strong enough i have to believe in us
0
Aug 15, 2019
Aug 15, 2019 at 4:23 PM UTC
waiting game
sometimes i wrap your jacket around my pillow and bury my face in it before i fall asleep it smells like summer in a hot kitchen after long work shifts sweaty and spicy smells like the first night i put my head on your chest your arm went around my shoulder and i could feel my heart thudding out of my ribs when you kissed me without warning i panicked and the next time you asked before you brushed your lips against my cheek and then i felt the stars flicker in my bones i remember the day i threw flour at you for no reason and you didn’t get mad or anything just kind of stared at me the day i stuck a rose in my teeth declared myself a princess and we went to the mall the day i stole some alstra from my mother’s yellow pitcher put them in a tin can and gave them to you gerbera daisies your hand in mine it’s been a year and i find myself falling in love all over again every week with your smile with the dimple in your right cheek your laugh your hands how good you are to me even when i don’t deserve it and how i never know exactly what you’re thinking up in that blonde head of yours of course you’re not perfect but you’re the closest **** thing i’ve ever found to it and i miss last summer sometimes the brand new flutter in my stomach and the crashing and tripping over the side of the big commercial sink and into feelings but i wouldn’t turn back time for anything and i hope i never have to sleep without you by my side again after this month i never wanted an expensive champagne twenty four karat designer tag kind of love and that’s never what you wanted to give me all i wanted was you and that’s what you’ve given me when i say “i love you” you say “i know you do” how good it is to have someone the safety of home and adventure of living to blow a kiss and know you’ll catch it to grab your hand and know you’ll hold it to love and to be loved you’re my soft place to land and i’ll be your right hand you’re the only decision i ever made the only chance i was willing to take and heaven forbid something goes wrong but you’re the only possible mistake that i would be happy to make it takes time for love to spread its roots and begin to grow upwards and bloom but i’m willing to wait as long as it’s for you and it hasn’t been easy lately i’ve put a lot of tears into your favorite hoodie been hanging into you for dear life but i have to believe this won’t last forever that you and me are strong enough i have to believe in us
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127
Freshmen year He made his way into the school It was my birthday He walked to my class The room had gone silent I glanced up There he is arms open I leap straight into them I could feel his glock It sat against the small of his back I smiled breathing in His scent is a weird one, Stale blood, Gunpowder, Cologne, And antiseptic It smells like home ‘Happy Birthday Inferi’ My smile widens I begin to tell everything about the new school He just smiles quietly The whole class is whispering now I can hear them The teacher makes a noise I look at her He’s glaring at her though I snickered behind my hand She looks afraid She should be He would **** her if he didn’t know I was hiding He gives me my gift, leaving he smiles I am bombarded with questions ‘Who was he?’ ‘How do you know him?’ I explain he’s a very close friend My best friend Who happens to buy me 24 karat gold necklaces
0
Apr 25, 2018
Apr 25, 2018 at 10:14 AM UTC
Back Again