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"longingness" poems
My mother and her mother, (four generations of mothers to be exact) All conceived children They didn't want, because They couldn't bear the alternative. My sister and I are the only two who survived. The intergenerational resentment that is cast among each woman in our family who decides to carry the burden of their unwanted child. My mother loves us as much as she is capable- Just like her mother and mothers mother before her. Birthed into four generations of hurt, that longed for acceptance and love that only a mother could give. But each mother couldn't. It took four generations of women and their pain and longingness for love, to create two women who are full of nothing but love and are hungry to give it to the world (we forgive you, because it's all you've known)
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Jan 26, 2021
Jan 26, 2021 at 12:35 AM UTC
(our) mothers burden
Pieces of a woman Gloom, glee, distance and intimacy Attitude, gratitude, strength and vulnerability Heartbreaks, Happiness, Longingness and poetry Calmness, boldness and a bad *** stree. Pieces of a woman Stretch Marks, cellulite, miscarriages and then bossy Shallow, Intense, blur and then some glossy Cute, cheerful, lazy, sane and naughty Benevolent, bizarre, shy and much hotty Pieces of a woman Family, friends, kin, acquaintances Risk, safe and then out of the world chances Society, sub-urb,rural and them glances Some music, some writing, some shying and couple dances Pieces of a woman Marriage, adoption, career and grace Clarity,focus,concentration and haze Red,green, black, purple and beige Independence, freedom, self-doubt and cage All this and endless….. And then some and then some Nothing can totally define The ultimate human The beautiful, the wonderful Pieces of a woman.
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Mar 7, 2022
Mar 7, 2022 at 2:31 PM UTC
Pieces of a woman
*There is a certain kind of longingness that even words nor photographs cannot fill in. And that is when, i want to write about you, the most. This amount of emptiness needs to be said. It needs to flow like the ink in my pen or the the blood in my veins, to sustain my sanity or else... Melancholic thoughts will run and invade my mind until all the hope in my heart is gone.*
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Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 1:12 PM UTC
When I am Missing You
i have this longingness, tugging at my soul and soles. they're wearing out as i sit motionless. my free spirit continues to be soft spoken, reminding me of unfulfilled hornyness during teen years. ********** through time, i will be on the road parallel to crime. unlike here and now. i look forward to the day this is the recent past, for i will be on the ultimate move.
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Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 1:44 AM UTC
vagabond in a stag nation
What a flim it is? Just mindblowing Sublime Sublime And sublime The Extreme love The Extreme Care The Extreme Kindness The years of Longingness Vanished With in a second Extermed Psunami Brought out exteremed emotion Just thought To hold My papa And mama And To die next second.. But just had a responsiblity And soon WILL I..
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Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 12:20 AM UTC
Chanceless Flim..
She really wants him to be her lover but the deity decided to set a game of love where two souls were born almost at the same time but in a different place. Thus, their love story remains unknown to the both of them. She doesn’t really know what she looks for in a man but her heart aches for someone she doesn’t even know. He reminds her of the cherry blossoms in spring when she started falling for him. He reminds her of the rain and how it falls down just like how her tears would. He reminds her of a sad love song just like their sad love story. It’s like he’s actually there but she’s unable to touch him. She knows she can just find another man to begin her love story with; someone she knows, verily. But the feeling won’t be the same. She can’t seem to fathom why she loves that particular feeling of loving someone unknown even though it pains her. Indeed, she’s trapped by the love she has, only she doesn't want to break free. How astonishing it is that an unknown man is capable of making her feel that way ― that no man she knows had made her feel. She wants to find him and end her longingness but she doesn’t know how. Even if she walks his street, they’ll less likely meet. It doesn’t happen easily. They’re not in the movies. She doesn’t even know who is she looking for. All she knows is that he’s there when spring comes, when the rain falls and when a sad love song starts to play. Still, she’s uncertain if she will ever meet that man but maybe... that’s how the deity wants their game of love to be ― to remain unknown. But no, she won’t lose to the deity’s game. She will find him and she will end the game. Their love will bloom in a different season. And he will no longer remind her of the rain and the sad love songs. He will no longer be someone unknown and they can finally begin their love story. That, she promised.
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Sep 13, 2017
Sep 13, 2017 at 5:08 AM UTC
A Love Story Unknown
She really wants him to be her lover but the deity decided to set a game of love where two souls were born almost at the same time but in a different place. Thus, their love story remains unknown to the both of them. She doesn’t really know what she looks for in a man but her heart aches for someone she doesn’t even know. He reminds her of the cherry blossoms in spring when she started falling for him. He reminds her of the rain and how it falls down just like how her tears would. He reminds her of a sad love song just like their sad love story. It’s like he’s actually there but she’s unable to touch him. She knows she can just find another man to begin her love story with; someone she knows, verily. But the feeling won’t be the same. She can’t seem to fathom why she loves that particular feeling of loving someone unknown even though it pains her. Indeed, she’s trapped by the love she has, only she doesn't want to break free. How astonishing it is that an unknown man is capable of making her feel that way ― that no man she knows had made her feel. She wants to find him and end her longingness but she doesn’t know how. Even if she walks his street, they’ll less likely meet. It doesn’t happen easily. They’re not in the movies. She doesn’t even know who is she looking for. All she knows is that he’s there when spring comes, when the rain falls and when a sad love song starts to play. Still, she’s uncertain if she will ever meet that man but maybe... that’s how the deity wants their game of love to be ― to remain unknown. But no, she won’t lose to the deity’s game. She will find him and she will end the game. Their love will bloom in a different season. And he will no longer remind her of the rain and the sad love songs. He will no longer be someone unknown and they can finally begin their love story. That, she promised.
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I have intentionally tried to fill the hole inside myself that your smile holds, my sweetest Angel. For that, I am ashamed. But there has been only the feeling of emptiness residing in that cavern since last I looked upon your smiling face and held you close to my heart. The sun has risen and set, the seas have ebbed and flowed, the winds have blown, hither and yon. Yet, still I stand, unmoving through all of it, for the pain of not having your tiny hand in mine has left me cold, battered by the waves and fossilized by the sands carried upon the winds. My eyes have withered from too many unhappy tears and nowhere near enough tears of joy, made all the more optically diuretic by my inability to look upon your face as you run and play and sleep and dream. I am sorry, my truest of Loves, my Only, that I have chosen to ignore these feelings of longingness for so long. I could touch the pen to paper a million times, writing odes to your face and sonnets to your smile, but the distance that I feel has forced me to lull my heart into a coma. I have intentionally medicated my heart in an attempt to stop feeling (to stop all feeling), yet I cannot. I feel the sunshine on my face and I pine to see the sun’s rays dwarfed by the radiance of your dwarven smile. I feel my heart hang so low and wish against hope that I could pick you up while you raise me. My soul cries out to replace you, yet my heart is merely attempting to survive. My soul screams for only you and the chance (nay, privilege) to shield you from the fears that cause you to scream in the middle of the night. Why have I chosen to harden my heart, my Love? Why have I allowed myself to stifle my screams, when in all truthfulness, I only dream of easing your own?
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Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 1:31 AM UTC
The Dwarven Sun
I have intentionally tried to fill the hole inside myself that your smile holds, my sweetest Angel. For that, I am ashamed. But there has been only the feeling of emptiness residing in that cavern since last I looked upon your smiling face and held you close to my heart. The sun has risen and set, the seas have ebbed and flowed, the winds have blown, hither and yon. Yet, still I stand, unmoving through all of it, for the pain of not having your tiny hand in mine has left me cold, battered by the waves and fossilized by the sands carried upon the winds. My eyes have withered from too many unhappy tears and nowhere near enough tears of joy, made all the more optically diuretic by my inability to look upon your face as you run and play and sleep and dream. I am sorry, my truest of Loves, my Only, that I have chosen to ignore these feelings of longingness for so long. I could touch the pen to paper a million times, writing odes to your face and sonnets to your smile, but the distance that I feel has forced me to lull my heart into a coma. I have intentionally medicated my heart in an attempt to stop feeling (to stop all feeling), yet I cannot. I feel the sunshine on my face and I pine to see the sun’s rays dwarfed by the radiance of your dwarven smile. I feel my heart hang so low and wish against hope that I could pick you up while you raise me. My soul cries out to replace you, yet my heart is merely attempting to survive. My soul screams for only you and the chance (nay, privilege) to shield you from the fears that cause you to scream in the middle of the night. Why have I chosen to harden my heart, my Love? Why have I allowed myself to stifle my screams, when in all truthfulness, I only dream of easing your own?
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I still feel all the vigors And my mind is still sore But my heart is too frail To feel anything I still hear voices at night Or maybe it is just the sound Of your voice Sweetly calling my name I still feel those chills Or maybe it is just the longingness Between the spaces Of my fingers I still look at my walls As if my sight can strike against it So steady and deep With the sharp thoughts I have I cannot tell what it is But if there is something That makes it hard for one to breathe That is exactly it We all get it Hangovers And the worst ones you get Comes when you love
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Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 at 6:46 AM UTC
Love Hangover
When it's in the air you'll not know what it is at first, but once you smell it once you never forget It lingers there as you walk through it, hanging in the air as prokaryotic pill shaped molecules It always smells different but the symptoms are as follows words stuck in the back of your throat, sweaty palms and shortness of breath a sense of longingness juxtaposed with a sense of fear An overwhelming need to communicate all the new thoughts on your stone written findings of what we need to survive Don't be alarmed, or rush off to the doctor thinking "There is something wrong with me" We all breathe this in, multiple times in our lives, Love's pathogens have a way, of infiltrating our senses and controlling our thoughts and actions like our physical bodies are more of a third party parasite to what our souls need to feed on. So don't choke on your words, reach out with dry hands for hers, the fear will always be there, because that's love and this is how we react when it is in the air.
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May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 3:43 PM UTC
Airborne
I thought surrender is that easy — Like the flowing river So natural to begin with itself And last in its bestowed Eternity. I hope to ponder for another time Like shifting the clock And be wise as the future foretells That I could ever throw a line To the Captain of the sky As I whisper through my tears So He could catch me In the middle of longingness and satisfaction. Maybe this time, I could truly call for hope And receive what I’ve uttered In every prophetic season When I was relieved with assurance That there’s a prerequisite to “help.” And so later in these milli-seconds counting One palm could rest on another As if raising a voice but always in silence. Maybe I could always yearn for more And even learn more Urge no more toward the death of a dream And start to glide Like a kite without wings.
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Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 9:29 AM UTC
A Cry for Help
If you let me explore you with my rougish tongue, through your cavities and my carnalities, to the stark nakedness of your flesh and your soul, and you’d let me have a piece of your beautiful beautiful mind, I would enmesh it with my own broken and ****** soul. We would be one, heartbeats in sync, and fingerprints, and the panorama of memories would bind themselves in order to be a creature, as one, whose enigma permeates through the walls of this inexplicable phenomenon. You will satisfy the longingness yearned by each atom that constitutes my being, and I, a speck of invisible stardust in the universe, would radiate the faintest glimmer of light enough to suffice the life you need.
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May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 12:45 PM UTC
Untitled
. Midday sweeps in a bronzing fury, prickling its way through skin, pierces the core to bleed then, drenched in affectation, I turn away to rest. I will swathe some lotion after, for the scent of longingness follows. A bath awaits.
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May 26, 2016
May 26, 2016 at 11:54 PM UTC
Of Learning Fortitude
He is your own brand of ****** You long to inject his love into your veins, to feel the rush of happiness go straight to your brain. You become addicted and you crave more, the dosage increases. But then it wears off and reality slaps you in the face, he will never love you. So you take another hit and forget for a while. Until one day you overdose, and now you watch over him , like the way you longed for him to do for you.
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Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 4:16 PM UTC
Needle of longingness
After nearly forgetting your face I crave nothing but to study it respect my wishes and my longingness for affection I pray my face be more radiant with warm rose light than cold blue artificial glows after such absence you remember who I am the map of my anatomy is built into your brain and the nerve endings are excited spinal cord reminiscence awake my dusty adrenal glands but as soon as breathing changes sadly we are interrupted an uncomfortable force lumbering awkwardly rests at the bedside we hadn’t kissed in three weeks today is no different
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Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 7:50 AM UTC
time alone.
To the east To the sundered east Of the deserted Isle Their lies a wrack black timbered bones Scold clinging clams That harbour there In the Wrack of the Isle As she lies down They say In hushed wispers it happened Many years ago Men died Or so they say But now, no one really knows It's all been forgotten now Through foggy years of Sun and Snow And dirth the man Who can name her The wrack rises To the waters To greet the High airs above The darlking deep beneath Where once there was a love Who can say, now When looking at the wrack In its black longingness That once, it was a brightened Vessel, fine and new Filled with laughter And simple joys They dive there sometimes When the tides allow But divers have to be wary It's dangerous near Wrack waters, so easy To be pulled down and Within, you go And once in her shell The air can not sustain You, for it is Not for breathing Creatures Remember the shore They tell The newcomers You must remember Where it is To the west you Must go, and so on.... But carefully, The wrack will Call at you Softly, and slow Breathing liquid fumes That fill the lungs And crush the ribs I swam round her once It was a heady - Experience, all shoreline Was forgotten I was lured by her Cracked spars and Speckled beams So beautiful Beneath a shining sea But I learned there That no man may Swim the wrack Forever, and not forget Deep death there awaits And lies down With you In a wet grave So be forwarned Before you swim The wrack of the Isle To the East The sundered East.
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May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 1:44 PM UTC
The Wrack of the Isle
To the east To the sundered east Of the deserted Isle Their lies a wrack black timbered bones Scold clinging clams That harbour there In the Wrack of the Isle As she lies down They say In hushed wispers it happened Many years ago Men died Or so they say But now, no one really knows It's all been forgotten now Through foggy years of Sun and Snow And dirth the man Who can name her The wrack rises To the waters To greet the High airs above The darlking deep beneath Where once there was a love Who can say, now When looking at the wrack In its black longingness That once, it was a brightened Vessel, fine and new Filled with laughter And simple joys They dive there sometimes When the tides allow But divers have to be wary It's dangerous near Wrack waters, so easy To be pulled down and Within, you go And once in her shell The air can not sustain You, for it is Not for breathing Creatures Remember the shore They tell The newcomers You must remember Where it is To the west you Must go, and so on.... But carefully, The wrack will Call at you Softly, and slow Breathing liquid fumes That fill the lungs And crush the ribs I swam round her once It was a heady - Experience, all shoreline Was forgotten I was lured by her Cracked spars and Speckled beams So beautiful Beneath a shining sea But I learned there That no man may Swim the wrack Forever, and not forget Deep death there awaits And lies down With you In a wet grave So be forwarned Before you swim The wrack of the Isle To the East The sundered East.
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It's those who burn in the fire of separation have come to learn that in this desperation true love lies for the distance means nothing if the hearts are intertwined.
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Apr 24, 2024
Apr 24, 2024 at 10:50 AM UTC
Longingness
as human beings and consumers, we often seek for contentment as seekers, we search for satisfaction to fill in missing parts of us we think we need as lovers, we seek for attention, longingness and to be far off from the void we search for what is relevant enough to be the food of our soul, and as we consume we are never satisfied so we seek for satisfaction, wanting more and with hands full, a heart pouring out of selflessness, we destroy ourselves as we fall in love, we fall apart giving and offering missing puzzle pieces that exist within us as we gradually become into nothing, we feed off of others, consuming whatever it is they have left we accept their love, and they, our flaws aware that we are only body parts that are reconnecting as we heal, we occupy their vacancies, filling in missing parts that have been hollow for too long we become their musings, their vertebrae of support they become our sanctuary and our hope they become the memories that look into the future instead of the mistakes that shaped who we are n.j.
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Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 3:19 PM UTC
seekers
I had forgotten how it feels to be touched by you You left my heart broken and mind askew The longingness to see you For eternity and eternally, or just seconds, few I, henceforth remained unbothered and sad, Even in a gala milieu! You came back by a whisker and feelings, see through And asked me to gather something new and old , something borrowed and  blue I felt some jitters and saw love inked hues I felt so lost when it should've been good in lieu Then one day you woke up and away you flew You told me it's over, out of love, you grew I then remembered how it feels to be hurt by the cruel, I then learnt, love leaves you unscathed and glad, if true And seems precious than any material, money or jewel You will find it in the world, first find it in YOU.
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May 10, 2022
May 10, 2022 at 11:57 AM UTC
YOU
i think i've lost the feeling in my fingertips and the words that graze my lips slip and dissipate into meaningless thoughts onto a page it's the banging against my window panes the clang and drip of rain it's the constant reminder of the sun that 'yes, i live' 'yes, i am here' 'yes, i will stay' 'for as long as you will let me' it's like listening to the sound of crashing waves against the shore as i dip my toes in the moonlight but there is that fear of the unknown the slippery tongues of the abyss that lap and lick against my heels the tremble of my lip the shudder down my spine as it snakes around my legs it's the longingness to runaway and disappear to leave without a trace no new names, no fake identities not a smidge of existence no footprints left behind.
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Oct 4, 2020
Oct 4, 2020 at 11:28 AM UTC
without a sense of purpose
I mustn't rely On someone like you To make me feel like a loved somebody again. That kind of request Of your kind of wonderfulness Is not fair. To be wasted on my kind of longingness.
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Nov 11, 2011
Nov 11, 2011 at 11:07 PM UTC
Ignore how my arms want you.
There I stood. There I ached. There I cried. There I hoped. Must be a dream Or a nightmare Just far from reality. Reminiscing the days, Just you and me. Not a glance of her, Nor echo of her voice. You were happy, I was happy, Both of us were happy. Right? I told you my love You did the same. Thrice. Told me of going back time I asked if you're willing. Making the sacrifice. What we have now It should be enough. Yet the feels of seeking more keeps creeping in. Thoughts of regrets Not making the mistake. Longingness and misses Wouldn't have to exist. I love you But you have her. And though you love her, You love me still Indeed difficult, Letting go the emotions. Yet holding on, Bigger and deeper wounds, More than to bare. I love you Yet you have her. Her with your angels Beautiful, soon to come out. I'll be happy You'll be happy We'll both still be happy. Won't we?
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Apr 4, 2022
Apr 4, 2022 at 11:03 AM UTC
Fortunate Heartache
Tonight i realized that there’s beauty and power in every song because there’s an inspiration, no matter what its message is, there is a complete phenomenon on how the songs speak and communicate with our souls. Maybe it is also composed with emotions, not just that, but love and longingness.. Every song has a heart, how it is poured out in a song..it sets its emotion in every note, every heart beat, every hum . It is what we feel. The reason why we are being connected to it whenever we open ourselves. That’s why we cry hearing a song, changed lives occur, realizations taking place. As I sang love songs, I realized that these love songs also is a way on how God communicates with us. It tells us how he feels for us, the same way the song is made for someone. God also has feelings. He also expresses his love, not only in act of kindness by providing us all we need but even in a song, he speaks real loud. If only we have ears to hear it, we could.
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Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 2:08 PM UTC
God sings
I see the pain I feel in people every day Despair depression loneliness longingness And it kills me that I can't gather my nerves up and say This pain you feel the hurt you're going though it will pass Your life will not become this moment This is only a small portion of a larger, complicated and beautiful life The world will be a beacon of light And you will be at the center. This moment of weakness you feel It will not define you     The person that hurt you will not matter in the long run I have been in your shoes- it seems that all around you is dark  Not a silver lining in sight And the more people you meet  the more sure you are that they are nothing but jerks  But it  is not as it seems Their is a limit to all the crap the world can throw at you And yours is approaching You will find something that will bring you out of that darkness  It may be a person or it may be a simple idea But this pain of yours Of mine And of everybody else Is soon to be over And you will forget that it wasn't perfection That once your life was this bad And the hidden beauty of this world is That no matter how much you think that fate is after you That god hates you It's not, he doesn't its just reality  You will have bad times You will have times that you look at yourself and you want to end it But you will also have the wonderful days  Mixed with happiness, joy and love And all that  pain will heal and you will blossom into  Something extraordinary because all that pain has left you stronger  You can face a harder tomorrow and come out of it with a smile on you face
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Mar 2, 2012
Mar 2, 2012 at 8:23 PM UTC
The hidden beauty
I see the pain I feel in people every day Despair depression loneliness longingness And it kills me that I can't gather my nerves up and say This pain you feel the hurt you're going though it will pass Your life will not become this moment This is only a small portion of a larger, complicated and beautiful life The world will be a beacon of light And you will be at the center. This moment of weakness you feel It will not define you     The person that hurt you will not matter in the long run I have been in your shoes- it seems that all around you is dark  Not a silver lining in sight And the more people you meet  the more sure you are that they are nothing but jerks  But it  is not as it seems Their is a limit to all the crap the world can throw at you And yours is approaching You will find something that will bring you out of that darkness  It may be a person or it may be a simple idea But this pain of yours Of mine And of everybody else Is soon to be over And you will forget that it wasn't perfection That once your life was this bad And the hidden beauty of this world is That no matter how much you think that fate is after you That god hates you It's not, he doesn't its just reality  You will have bad times You will have times that you look at yourself and you want to end it But you will also have the wonderful days  Mixed with happiness, joy and love And all that  pain will heal and you will blossom into  Something extraordinary because all that pain has left you stronger  You can face a harder tomorrow and come out of it with a smile on you face
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yearning for something i desire; what lies beneath the ivory duvet when the rays of the sun spares a shy glance around the nook and cranny of your room; hands aching to lace around yours; waiting to taste sweet you, bitterness slowly creeping up to its own demise, this is why the maidens sung their hearts out to accompany the grieving tremors that shook the faulty edges we had built, atop of guilt and uncertainties. flustered sheets scattered on the floor, pieces of myself i can no longer get back to whilst a gaping hole greeting my own eyes held a fragment of truth and silence. ( this is not my home; this is the apparition’s treacherous threshold. ) yearning for something i lost; the warmth of your embrace, contrasting with the glare of the sun pouring down on me, easiness could never give justice to you; sly brushes of lips against my skin, as if chanting bohemian chants all over me to get out of this witchcraft that we call love; longingness in your eyes, a renaissance painting in front of you, begging to feel the constellations in your hands cascading through every vein in me. still, i feel something coil deep inside me, were you truly mine?
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Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 10:50 AM UTC
two on two
every moment he was my child it seemed he left me for another woman those women; he complained were his companions he felt solidarity and that night---i lose myself of me once more he belonged to none, but myself i wish i could paint him there're no colors; i find solace the tangible form and intangible idea's i draw images in my mind with him being together where no other women existed and all this madness i inherited in loving him too much bit of anguish, a bit of longingness and still craving for his touch .. yet i wouldn't speak of this love or sleep or hear i know in your silences; i lost myself with all the beatings of your heart i possessed all the grace, and your light occasionally i set myself apart from you but i lost myself, to another woman and each of your women, i lost every more of myself it wasn't the greatest of the sadness till i know there is no love force in me and in this confusion, you went away to another woman, and to your women all over you.. i would write you , in my each of letters and in my alphabets and syntax of broken language but i lose the power to write to the force, i feel inward and with every little of myself i lose myself more of me, and little by little, i crave for you more and i think of you in grandeur of this world in hustle bustle of love i think more of my great love As i realize, the loneliness is my greatest companion and i'm the one, who belongs to loneliness ahh, you shouldn't have let me go this loneliness has gone over me and yet, your women wouldn't leave you making me see the loss of myself every little while this silence remind me of my greatest love it reminds me of our possessed share where there was everything but loyalty in veiled colors it seems i can't get over the days of you being together with me but your women came along you felt consoled and you felt at ease giving yourself to them while keeping me in heart, you gained those women's attention everything so untouched, and so distant i feel my love more moving close, and intense your gazing is still over me and i wish i could touch the sun and sky, and stars my heart, perhaps would feel at ease perhaps i could adopt them as my child ....as you were my own, a piece drawn from me but you were, another women's those women were your face, your mind and your life but your heart...i touch your heart even i feel this great warmth in me moving for you, craving for you i wouldn't still be your woman and in him, i felt a sharp pain of being a woman
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Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 3:32 PM UTC
To you
every moment he was my child it seemed he left me for another woman those women; he complained were his companions he felt solidarity and that night---i lose myself of me once more he belonged to none, but myself i wish i could paint him there're no colors; i find solace the tangible form and intangible idea's i draw images in my mind with him being together where no other women existed and all this madness i inherited in loving him too much bit of anguish, a bit of longingness and still craving for his touch .. yet i wouldn't speak of this love or sleep or hear i know in your silences; i lost myself with all the beatings of your heart i possessed all the grace, and your light occasionally i set myself apart from you but i lost myself, to another woman and each of your women, i lost every more of myself it wasn't the greatest of the sadness till i know there is no love force in me and in this confusion, you went away to another woman, and to your women all over you.. i would write you , in my each of letters and in my alphabets and syntax of broken language but i lose the power to write to the force, i feel inward and with every little of myself i lose myself more of me, and little by little, i crave for you more and i think of you in grandeur of this world in hustle bustle of love i think more of my great love As i realize, the loneliness is my greatest companion and i'm the one, who belongs to loneliness ahh, you shouldn't have let me go this loneliness has gone over me and yet, your women wouldn't leave you making me see the loss of myself every little while this silence remind me of my greatest love it reminds me of our possessed share where there was everything but loyalty in veiled colors it seems i can't get over the days of you being together with me but your women came along you felt consoled and you felt at ease giving yourself to them while keeping me in heart, you gained those women's attention everything so untouched, and so distant i feel my love more moving close, and intense your gazing is still over me and i wish i could touch the sun and sky, and stars my heart, perhaps would feel at ease perhaps i could adopt them as my child ....as you were my own, a piece drawn from me but you were, another women's those women were your face, your mind and your life but your heart...i touch your heart even i feel this great warmth in me moving for you, craving for you i wouldn't still be your woman and in him, i felt a sharp pain of being a woman
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