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"lightheaded" poems
why wont you let me move on? is it because you dont want me to? you dont want me to find happiness with someone else? or are you just plain sadistic, forcing this pain on me? every time i think i can breathe, there you are again with your hands around my neck cutting off my oxygen supply making me lightheaded. every time i try to move, i realize my arms and legs have been tied down and there you stand taunting me at the end of the bed. why do you have to be so cruel to me? its probably because you know i live for the pain.
0
Sep 4, 2018
Sep 4, 2018 at 10:05 PM UTC
sadist.
The residue of ***** lined the empty bottle. A deep inhale of smoke, an exhale of problems. Lightheaded I fumble, clasping a cold lifeless piece of metal. I cried "save me" release all my demons. I am safe for now, drowning in a sea of crimson security.
0
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 2:35 PM UTC
Self Hate
skyscraper man on seattle time looms in the corner of swan lake and fry untouchable denim untouchable blueblack plaid jacket he's put together with clothespins he's put together with stipends he's crammed between taxi cab book ends skyscraper man on seattle time stoic as the jet engines roar by all his friends are magazines all his friends currentbrief he's got a little future he's got a few dimes he's got no father to call out the lies skyscraper man on seattle time watches smog children kick ***** on concrete vulnerable under trees writes his novels in purpleink he's married once before he's read crucifixion lore he's returned his money to the store skyscraper man on seattle time looking through spectacles of ***** and brine the rain falls hard the breeze sweet on the leaves he's emptying the soul of modern rock n' roll he's emptying the tray of ashed thought he's emptying the bank account cold skyscraper man on seattle time sheds crinkled skinmemory like the cicada a twin-sized deathbed deathbed in apt. 203 he's nothing. he's ever. he's happened. skyscraper man on seattle time carbon copied and eternal as saltwater as rust invisible and tapping at the runrain window he's nothing. he's ever. he's happened. skyscraper man on seattle time climbs himself to the cosmos lightheaded perfection ethereal visions of fullbloom love and legacy with measure he's nothing. he's ever. he's happened.
0
Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 11:04 AM UTC
nothingeverhappened
It makes me feel Lightheaded and fluffy And makes my cheeks Turn bright red To think of my hand In yours. It's such a unique gesture, Holding hands. So intimate Yet innocent. Our hands will fit perfectly Our fingers interlocked Like the right pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. My heart will beat faster Your cheeks will turn redder And we will feel so much closer To each other. Your grasp will be so tight It'll be impossible to let go. Just like having the world On my fingertips, Literally.
0
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 11:36 AM UTC
Hands
Not many things are as satisfying As peeing when you're drunk. What a rush. I always realize how lightheaded I am And that makes me laugh. Then it's back to the kitchen to replenish My body's alcohol supply.
0
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 5:13 PM UTC
satisfactory ***
Oh yes, where to start….                             A Kiss behind the ear              trailing across the jaw                   a light sweep of lips across lips                        a catch of breath…                                moving down…. Fingers tracing every move….     soft wet kisses to the neck            ….are you feeling the groove?                  Slowly lips move from neck to chest                              as they lovingly adore               fingers lightly travel down                                            eager to explore…       Wet trailing kisses to the navel                fingers circling around chest       bringing forth trembling lightheaded sensations                     lips against skin, pressed…..                               Moving ever so slow….                                         *finger traces                                            circling tongue                                               lips adoring                                                  wet embraces                                              intensity flowing                                           curling toes                                         twitching muscles                                       heart pounding                                         breathless                                           out of body                                             a second of clarity                                               Sweet Release….*                                                       Good morning baby, shall we go on…….. ~ © 2017 Brianna Love/SA/DBMA
0
Sep 18, 2017
Sep 18, 2017 at 7:06 PM UTC
Starting Point
Oh yes, where to start….                             A Kiss behind the ear              trailing across the jaw                   a light sweep of lips across lips                        a catch of breath…                                moving down…. Fingers tracing every move….     soft wet kisses to the neck            ….are you feeling the groove?                  Slowly lips move from neck to chest                              as they lovingly adore               fingers lightly travel down                                            eager to explore…       Wet trailing kisses to the navel                fingers circling around chest       bringing forth trembling lightheaded sensations                     lips against skin, pressed…..                               Moving ever so slow….                                         *finger traces                                            circling tongue                                               lips adoring                                                  wet embraces                                              intensity flowing                                           curling toes                                         twitching muscles                                       heart pounding                                         breathless                                           out of body                                             a second of clarity                                               Sweet Release….*                                                       Good morning baby, shall we go on…….. ~ © 2017 Brianna Love/SA/DBMA
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33
In the darkness, I become tangled in your fingertips, legs, and sweat soaked sheets. Your body rocks and moves against mine in perfect motion As you whisper how you want to "make love to me." That’s what you called it. But I’d never done that before, I didn’t even think people still called it that. But once you said it, all I wanted to do was... make love... to you too.. Now, baby, I'm not saying I love you, or anything like that. Don’t smile that smile like you’ve enchanted me. Because I refuse to make that commitment or give you that much. Cause see, I've got things to see and people to do and I can't be in love right now. it's not a good time.. Is it for you...? ..cause if you say it first I'll jump at the chance to tell you that when I'm with you, I soar. Your fingertips send sparks from my skin and the sweat dripping down your caramel complexion leaves me hungry. Hungry for your lips on my lips and your body on mine, and lord oh lordy, I might need a minute excuse me.. Baby see, when I'm with you I can smell the scent of your country taste the exotic taste on your tongue. and it sends me to far away places and distant lands. sends me to other planets. I'm so high off the scent of us, I'm lightheaded just thinking about you. **** And you laugh at me because I breath a little harder when you whisper in your native tongue. "¿Te gusta eso?" you ask. And I'm not sure what you're saying so I just say yes.. and you keep on going with your secret words losing me in your translations to the point where I don't wanna be found. So let's stay in this limbo forever.. because you got me so high baby, so high, I never wanna come down.
0
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 9:57 PM UTC
This Is About ***
In the darkness, I become tangled in your fingertips, legs, and sweat soaked sheets. Your body rocks and moves against mine in perfect motion As you whisper how you want to "make love to me." That’s what you called it. But I’d never done that before, I didn’t even think people still called it that. But once you said it, all I wanted to do was... make love... to you too.. Now, baby, I'm not saying I love you, or anything like that. Don’t smile that smile like you’ve enchanted me. Because I refuse to make that commitment or give you that much. Cause see, I've got things to see and people to do and I can't be in love right now. it's not a good time.. Is it for you...? ..cause if you say it first I'll jump at the chance to tell you that when I'm with you, I soar. Your fingertips send sparks from my skin and the sweat dripping down your caramel complexion leaves me hungry. Hungry for your lips on my lips and your body on mine, and lord oh lordy, I might need a minute excuse me.. Baby see, when I'm with you I can smell the scent of your country taste the exotic taste on your tongue. and it sends me to far away places and distant lands. sends me to other planets. I'm so high off the scent of us, I'm lightheaded just thinking about you. **** And you laugh at me because I breath a little harder when you whisper in your native tongue. "¿Te gusta eso?" you ask. And I'm not sure what you're saying so I just say yes.. and you keep on going with your secret words losing me in your translations to the point where I don't wanna be found. So let's stay in this limbo forever.. because you got me so high baby, so high, I never wanna come down.
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64
Head is foggy, Knees shake, Hands quake. Suicidal again. Cotton mouth, Nausea, Lightheaded, Suicidal again. Numb, Confusion, Head is aching. Suicidal again. Distant voices, Hot and cold flashes, Suicidal again. Pain, Tears, Self destructive behavior, Suicidal again. Exhaustion, Isolation, Self medication, Suicidal again. Chain smoke, Can’t eat, Suicidal again. Gods turned his back on me; I’ll turn my back on him. Suicidal again. Truly, The only way out… Suicidal again.
0
May 13, 2019
May 13, 2019 at 7:33 PM UTC
Suicidal Again
I'm not addicted to the substance I don't really care about the high or the low I'm addicted to the morning after I'm addicted to being able to tell you exactly how I feel and to take it all away the next day I'm addicted to "I'm sorry, I was so ****** up." I'm addicted to "It's okay." Because I'll never be enough. I'm addicted to the aftertaste of our drunken kiss I'm addicted to forgetting how you pushed me from your lips I don't care for lightheaded feelings I get enough from you I don't need the acid rising up but you hold me when I do I don't need the ****** parties The kids all passed out on the floor I'm addicted to sobering up I'm addicted to needing you more.
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Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 12:42 AM UTC
Addict.
The list of regrets That I have is overwhelming And my friends just don't understand I'm a perfectionist I over think my good deeds to death Until they are no more than A collection of moments where I could have done better But there are tiny fragments of moments That given the chance to slide back in time I would just sit back and watch And be proud of my choices The list of things I don't regret: 1. All the boys I've dated Because they taught me how I should And shouldn't be treated 2. Breaking up with the boys I've dated When I deserved better 3. when my ex best friend gave me a letter Apologizing for all of the snide remarks Subtle insults Talking behind my back And never sticking up for me Claiming that all of the new friends that she has Can't compare to me I threw out her letter and false promises Not because I finally brought myself to hate her But because I was finally strong enough to love myself 4. Climbing onto my roof that first time Though I got yelled at by my Angry mother I got to watch the stars And escape my worries I found my happy place 5. When one of my friends texted me Crying on the floor of her room with the door locked Fearing what was on the other side And I told her the three things I wish someone had of been there to tell me It's not your fault It's abuse Call the police 6.When I was trying to explain An important concept And on the fourth try Of my sentence I finally caught the attention of they guy On his phone And his extremely teenage response was "I'm listening. It's called multitasking. Need me to give you an explanation of how I can do it sweetheart?" And though I'm the quiet one who doesn't speak up Without missing a beat I responded with "No. I'd rather you give me your respect." And from then on I got it 7. When I let myself trust The gorgeous girl I met Because in my experience   The pretty girls are the mean ones But this one wasn't mean She was my best friend 8. Though I had never gone as a kid I applied to work at a camp Though I didn't know anyone else going I left with best friends And the best summer of my life 9. When I read my first poem out loud Shaking and lightheaded Having just shared a piece of myself And been accepted.
0
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 10:26 PM UTC
The Things I Don't Regret
The list of regrets That I have is overwhelming And my friends just don't understand I'm a perfectionist I over think my good deeds to death Until they are no more than A collection of moments where I could have done better But there are tiny fragments of moments That given the chance to slide back in time I would just sit back and watch And be proud of my choices The list of things I don't regret: 1. All the boys I've dated Because they taught me how I should And shouldn't be treated 2. Breaking up with the boys I've dated When I deserved better 3. when my ex best friend gave me a letter Apologizing for all of the snide remarks Subtle insults Talking behind my back And never sticking up for me Claiming that all of the new friends that she has Can't compare to me I threw out her letter and false promises Not because I finally brought myself to hate her But because I was finally strong enough to love myself 4. Climbing onto my roof that first time Though I got yelled at by my Angry mother I got to watch the stars And escape my worries I found my happy place 5. When one of my friends texted me Crying on the floor of her room with the door locked Fearing what was on the other side And I told her the three things I wish someone had of been there to tell me It's not your fault It's abuse Call the police 6.When I was trying to explain An important concept And on the fourth try Of my sentence I finally caught the attention of they guy On his phone And his extremely teenage response was "I'm listening. It's called multitasking. Need me to give you an explanation of how I can do it sweetheart?" And though I'm the quiet one who doesn't speak up Without missing a beat I responded with "No. I'd rather you give me your respect." And from then on I got it 7. When I let myself trust The gorgeous girl I met Because in my experience   The pretty girls are the mean ones But this one wasn't mean She was my best friend 8. Though I had never gone as a kid I applied to work at a camp Though I didn't know anyone else going I left with best friends And the best summer of my life 9. When I read my first poem out loud Shaking and lightheaded Having just shared a piece of myself And been accepted.
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70
*The sky is falling                        with the New Moon’s rising tide                        Amorous emotions are flailing                        with rhapsody’s flooding desires A fleshy sigh exhaled the hot breath of carnal tensions; the heat of a lightheaded fever, arouses flushing skin, igniting a yearning to savor the bouquet of love’s sensual coquettish dreams                        Inraptured teases and tantalizes                        anticipation’s lucid sensations                        So close and yet so far away ,                        as if a moonstruck hypnotic delight                        were at the tip of fingers touch ,                        from arm’s length away Savoring the input from all the heightened senses Overwhelmed by a feeling like being wrapped in a dream , choosing not to listen to sanities' useless reality                        Willingly surrendering to the dream - - -                        to the verve of blissful mercy                        Only while waking up,                        embracing the thoughts                        of passionate release,                        do I feel the poignant pang                        of my heart's song longing to fade into you …                         "dance me to the end of love"* wilder
0
Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 9:21 PM UTC
Waiting to Awaken In a Dream ...(sensual)
*The sky is falling                        with the New Moon’s rising tide                        Amorous emotions are flailing                        with rhapsody’s flooding desires A fleshy sigh exhaled the hot breath of carnal tensions; the heat of a lightheaded fever, arouses flushing skin, igniting a yearning to savor the bouquet of love’s sensual coquettish dreams                        Inraptured teases and tantalizes                        anticipation’s lucid sensations                        So close and yet so far away ,                        as if a moonstruck hypnotic delight                        were at the tip of fingers touch ,                        from arm’s length away Savoring the input from all the heightened senses Overwhelmed by a feeling like being wrapped in a dream , choosing not to listen to sanities' useless reality                        Willingly surrendering to the dream - - -                        to the verve of blissful mercy                        Only while waking up,                        embracing the thoughts                        of passionate release,                        do I feel the poignant pang                        of my heart's song longing to fade into you …                         "dance me to the end of love"* wilder
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33
Sometimes, I wish my soul Wasn't so sensitive I extend my exposed hand out For others to grab Sometimes, my reach Is acknowledged and held onto Other times, it's crushed With the overwhelming and Presumptuous weight Of being a burden and A disappointment This pain is very strong This suffering tugs and Drags me down A sinkhole that I don't even Notice I'm falling through Until it's too late Until I feel lightheaded When my heart beats In fluttering patterns Until my chest tightens And I feel a knot in my throat It's hard to swallow this air I breathe For at times, it's so dense and thick But there's no fog, no illusion Just allusions to the fact That I'm tired... Fatigued... Exhausted... A barren tree A lot of life to give But an abandoned seed In my mind That's what my demons tell me This is my story of triumph That I'm still writing This is my journey That I'm still fighting.
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Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 1:52 PM UTC
My IV (Inner Veins)
We sat cozily on the couch listening to Miles Davis She, curled up with a glass of Chardonnay, me, a warmed brandy snifter It seemed an eternity since we made time for each other like this We enjoyed our home in silence, absent our attention grabbing offspring at Grandma's. I savored the scent of her lavender infused body snuggled in my arms Her beautiful brown eyes reflected flickered light The candles we transplanted from our earlier bath, burned slowly And "Kind of Blue" transported us as we held each other. "May I have a sip of your brandy?" she asked coyly with a smile on her face "Of course," I handed her my glass "Not from your glass," her smile turned into a mischievous grin The vanilla and oak from the brandy permeated the air above the gulp I took into my mouth. My heart rate increased, my eyes closed, and our smiles met pressed together; Heaven is real... Her lips parted, she pulled the brandy from me along with my tongue that now danced with hers The fire of the brandy that left my mouth warm, now slid down her neck in one smooth swallow We took great care in kissing each other, sensuously, passionately, time stood still, for us. Luxuriating in this kiss, a tear fell from her eye, met only with the tears that fell from mine As our mind's eye recalled the love we have endured over these adventurous years together Brandywine never tasted this divine as from the lips of my beautiful lover Lightheaded, more so from her than from the alcohol, I smiled and held her closer to me. "I Love you Husband!" "I Love you more Wife!" -----ChawzzyScript
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Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 8:16 PM UTC
Cognac Kisses
We sat cozily on the couch listening to Miles Davis She, curled up with a glass of Chardonnay, me, a warmed brandy snifter It seemed an eternity since we made time for each other like this We enjoyed our home in silence, absent our attention grabbing offspring at Grandma's. I savored the scent of her lavender infused body snuggled in my arms Her beautiful brown eyes reflected flickered light The candles we transplanted from our earlier bath, burned slowly And "Kind of Blue" transported us as we held each other. "May I have a sip of your brandy?" she asked coyly with a smile on her face "Of course," I handed her my glass "Not from your glass," her smile turned into a mischievous grin The vanilla and oak from the brandy permeated the air above the gulp I took into my mouth. My heart rate increased, my eyes closed, and our smiles met pressed together; Heaven is real... Her lips parted, she pulled the brandy from me along with my tongue that now danced with hers The fire of the brandy that left my mouth warm, now slid down her neck in one smooth swallow We took great care in kissing each other, sensuously, passionately, time stood still, for us. Luxuriating in this kiss, a tear fell from her eye, met only with the tears that fell from mine As our mind's eye recalled the love we have endured over these adventurous years together Brandywine never tasted this divine as from the lips of my beautiful lover Lightheaded, more so from her than from the alcohol, I smiled and held her closer to me. "I Love you Husband!" "I Love you more Wife!" -----ChawzzyScript
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23
it feels like you have my heart poised, perfectly, between your thumb and forefinger; rubbing and squeezing and pulsating until blood is drawn and the warm fluid slides down your wrist. whilst you aren’t texting back, i’m emptying the remaining pieces of myself into a cup of coffee. each swirl of the teaspoon is another uneasy breath expelled; i pour milk into my stained mug in the same vain that i pour what remains of me into your open mouth. i don’t know if you want it; maybe you like your coffee black but i've never given you that option. pouring and pouring and pouring. pouring myself into you without permission, without self-awareness or a need for reciprocation. i try to water you like a plant whose roots are already swimming in water. i think your mug might be full already but i can't stop, i want to but I can't withdraw. i'm going to pour and pour and pour until you never touch another cup of coffee for the remainder of your days, till the smell makes you gag and cafes' become scorched ground. at this point coffee is the only thing that it feels like i know; my organs floating amongst pools of sharp, bitter liquid. i push it longer and longer and longer, the hours between meals stretch into days stretching into lightheaded bouts of fainting. but it’s okay because i feel like i'm floating. so empty and sparse that i could keep pouring myself into you for an eternity and you would never get too full, your cup would never overflow from too much of me. but i'm tired. tired of guessing and crying and starving and giving myself to you. i am not a watering can and you are not a wild garden. you are beautiful and I am hollow, the lifeless impression of what could have been lying in the freshly seeded soil. you are the budding head of the snowdrops in the spring, i am decay, rot and debasement. you didn’t ask for it, you didn’t ask for any of this; you wanted me to stop. to stop trying to embed myself into you like dirt under your nails. but that is the crux of it all my dear; i can't and i don’t know how to. so i keep going, i kiss your bruises and clean your wounds; pouring and pouring and pouring.
0
Mar 27, 2018
Mar 27, 2018 at 1:11 PM UTC
coffee and watering cans
it feels like you have my heart poised, perfectly, between your thumb and forefinger; rubbing and squeezing and pulsating until blood is drawn and the warm fluid slides down your wrist. whilst you aren’t texting back, i’m emptying the remaining pieces of myself into a cup of coffee. each swirl of the teaspoon is another uneasy breath expelled; i pour milk into my stained mug in the same vain that i pour what remains of me into your open mouth. i don’t know if you want it; maybe you like your coffee black but i've never given you that option. pouring and pouring and pouring. pouring myself into you without permission, without self-awareness or a need for reciprocation. i try to water you like a plant whose roots are already swimming in water. i think your mug might be full already but i can't stop, i want to but I can't withdraw. i'm going to pour and pour and pour until you never touch another cup of coffee for the remainder of your days, till the smell makes you gag and cafes' become scorched ground. at this point coffee is the only thing that it feels like i know; my organs floating amongst pools of sharp, bitter liquid. i push it longer and longer and longer, the hours between meals stretch into days stretching into lightheaded bouts of fainting. but it’s okay because i feel like i'm floating. so empty and sparse that i could keep pouring myself into you for an eternity and you would never get too full, your cup would never overflow from too much of me. but i'm tired. tired of guessing and crying and starving and giving myself to you. i am not a watering can and you are not a wild garden. you are beautiful and I am hollow, the lifeless impression of what could have been lying in the freshly seeded soil. you are the budding head of the snowdrops in the spring, i am decay, rot and debasement. you didn’t ask for it, you didn’t ask for any of this; you wanted me to stop. to stop trying to embed myself into you like dirt under your nails. but that is the crux of it all my dear; i can't and i don’t know how to. so i keep going, i kiss your bruises and clean your wounds; pouring and pouring and pouring.
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7
There is a new roof fitting itself to the sky, sea-roughened and grey as the vast paving I dropped teeth on as a child, lightheaded and living faster. Outside, a steep hill drops sweet like the dip of a spoon, and in this life I see my own reflection. It may come from narcissism. It may come from gut. But its momentum is trapped, a statue on one foot, it asks to be uprooted. How can I carve this future into something soft and creaseless? If I was an artist, I could catch its outstretch— I would pull the army by the hand, out from the dark intrusive damp, and ask it to stay. On the line, a white sheet takes hard gulps of air. I'm quick to learn its rhythm. But in the morning it has lost its breath; in the morning there is a small damp circle under my cheek.
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Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 5:32 PM UTC
Blanket
Blood rushes and oxygen depletes Hidden beneath eyelids, I dare myself to breathe I become lightheaded as I am relieved a piece of darkness from my heavy heart The acoustics of silence screeches with rising pitches to match the increases of contrast This white-out has interrupted my mental broadcast
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Nov 12, 2011
Nov 12, 2011 at 4:18 PM UTC
Unfinished 2 (Mental Broadcast)
Can the skin of my lips touch again the soft suppleness of yours? I like the euphoria that races down my spine and spreads through me like fever; Weak and lightheaded, I am painfully vulnerable to its effect. Giddy like a child to know you feel it too as we linger pressed together. Can we meld again our faces and make our tongues dance? I crave the taste of the mint that still haunts your house; With eyes closed, I greet the endorphins with playful giggles. Your hands clasped in mine, we brace for the onslaught of our zeal. Can we again have our souls collide within the envelope of our breaths? I long for the dizzy heights aloft of my infinite love of you; Your arms around my neck forcing my head to meet yours with haste. My hands cradling your backside, drawing our bodies yet closer together. Can we repeat again the wordless speech, the slow mind coition? I fancy my heart a metronome escalating a beat in syncope with your own. A little nibble, a teasing bite, a nosh if you will, as if your silk lined set were food stuffs with gravy. I suckle the lower lip as if it were an areolar protuberance feeding my infantile psyche. Can I again passionately conjoin your mouth with mine, and hold you there in my thoughts? Can I dare evoke the feelings I so wholeheartedly embrace, and return them to you with fervor? Can we share each other in spontaneity as a hello or goodbye, again my love forever? Please...! Can I kiss you again? -----ChawzzyScript
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Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 4:49 AM UTC
Can I Kiss You Again
her bare back was like a foreshadowing of the apocalypse, your face unseen. i couldn't even close the door, not the way i wanted to, with a SLAM. because then you'd know i was standing there, that i was unsure which empty room was offered to me. it wasn't that room, that room was full, packed to the brim with kisses that weren't mine, strokes that were not mine. that room was intoxicating, i felt lightheaded, i couldn't breathe. i barely had anything to drink. i am lost, excluded from the beauty. but i was lightning, you were thunder, you can't have one without the other. but it was rushed, and she left with a relieving SLAM early in the morning. so i made tea, and you let me lay in your bed all day, and sleep and listen to love songs, and watch old movies. and we were as close as we could get without touching. and we didn't really say anything, and that was okay.
0
Sep 9, 2012
Sep 9, 2012 at 1:12 PM UTC
and
Loving you is a paradox It is an oxymoron Made in hell Can't you see that I'm torn? My head spins I lose my senses My body feels numb I am indifferent to life All that matters is you I can't stay with you Why do I cope with this so lightheaded; I feel like I hate you No one makes me feel worse But no one makes me feel better And more alive
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May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 6:04 PM UTC
Oxymoron
lightheaded i scatter to the curb and stare in blank wonder at the carnival of obscene open on the ***** street a father wanders drunk up the sun dappled lane singing that tune from childhood if he could only recapture even a moment but time evades him like paper butterflys and his life flees as he chases the past a mothers brother lurks in the shadows hoping to be seen and unseen in the same moment his hand clutches the traces of a poison that hes here to sell to imitation innocence its the same as the ones in the cars they just sell a different form of insanity just another filthy lie they are trying to hand out with a smile she lay back in the bent perception and plays on the dreams that might spark but benith her bulletproof  layers she is crying for all the tenderness and love she feels she will never know again she waits for the bicycle man she knows he is her escape from the carnival   there is no time to waste i must escape this vipers nest this wasteland that lives between the fast food restaurants and run down motels
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May 4, 2013
May 4, 2013 at 8:02 AM UTC
her bulletproof layers
Firmly pressed, Lips on lips. Hungry for more. Eagerness and expectation fulfilled by Nibbled lips, dancing tongues, and gnashing teeth. Lightheaded. Breathless. Consuming you is consuming me. Let the candle burn at both ends, In the middle the flame will ***** then COMBUST. At our core, we are explosive-- Fiery passion, life, and love. Kiss me, and I'll show you.
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Apr 11, 2018
Apr 11, 2018 at 3:56 AM UTC
Kiss.
Lightheaded on fumes running on empty through rooms and nowhere to go. I know something's coming that's why I am running, can't stand still anymore or fight 'til I bleed or batter down doors so I'll batten down hatches and run on empty.
0
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 6:20 AM UTC
Escape velocity