i can't think of anything to say and that physically and mentally pains me so much i am spiraling into a non existing universe inside the depths of my own soul

your beauty is captivating
everything is raptured
all my words are captured
i'm speechless
any talk is reachless
like a clock that doesn't tell time
words are useless
if i can't say to you what i'm suppose to
Like some kind of cosmic joke
every time i get the courage
to speak my mind i choke
i cant breath
everything is trapped underneath
all because you simply showed your teeth
this all happened
because you smiled at me

Breathless Words

Soul to soul her words flowed the letters were elegant as she they had this bolden quality a richness
then her face was superimposed on the paper up in the left hand corner the paper was it self able to
evoke emotion light brown flowers and buterflies colorfuly purple ran down the right side then the
writing seemed but whisps visible but tendrils that are so cast as tiny to the point of airyness but that
was where the emotional timbres they struck a cord divisions inserted into layers that lay heavy on the
page pure heart some what disturbing crackled a liveness cried to be heard a call was spreading across
a waste land this velvet verdue capitalized on scarsity the emptyness gave it greater apaeal it spoke in a
whisper and you strained to hear you must hear when wonder sings there is always an audiense she
divised words that were robed in color and vibrancy your breath was cought ebbing and flowing her
thoughts were winged angels they called with hallwoed tounges their words were counter weights to
the usal run of the mill chit chat her perpodours words stood in great banks in the sky her words were dark and
raging at times and then turned white it was as she was fencing great sections of land then the storm
broke the pain came in torents this liquid rain expressed demoanized parts of what she vehemitantly
sought to express and then it slowed to a roll over the landscape of her life then it was glory noble it was
as you were whisked in to a great white church you stood by the altar as she pureified her deeepest soul
she confronted loss those dark corners in the lives of lovers it is not perfeclty clear but possibly one had
strayed it seemed she was making marks that represented death black and treacheous she wrote from
the very whip lashes on her heart they had healed but they left scar tissue her fingers passed over them
then she transfured them to the keys shame disgrace visted in the most beautiful chamber of their love
now it would forever remain a darkness in otherwise the show place of love and its achievments she had
a fire that was exzilarting it had the element that burned untamed places and when the new growing
came it was now clean the visual mastery that when observed is stunning she detailed the defining
moments that only love can birth this was one thing she said I love that magic. I hope it is a magic that
last “forever” be enthralled when you kiss your beloved know not you are planting seeds that drift over
filelds of forever they rise on the country breeze they travel to as the song says ole tangers and amid the
Pyrimids along the Nile they stall speachless at the foot of Kilamajoro they traverse the bluest sea to the
swaying of the hula and then they with this romantic thickness bend under the weight there only
definition and reality in this case lies at your feet live the dream girl

Do you know what it takes to make you?
Do you understand what you’re made of?
How far you can go, how much you can love?
Could you explain yourself off of the cuff?
If you were a gem, what would you be in the rough?

Do you know what it takes to make you?
Could you understand even for a small while
what makes you laugh, and joke, and dance, and smile?
What drives you towards showing your own style?
Just what do you think makes you so worthwhile?

Do you know what it takes to make you?
How long does it take to make you upset?
To make you wither underneath of a threat?
To make you groan with utter regret?
What does it take to damage your silhouette?

Do you know what it takes to make you?
Can you comprehend just how far you could go
Before the world defeats you with one final throw?
What loss, what hurt, what pain could you know
Before you ended by one final blow?

One final blow that would do you in.
Even something so small, it feels like sin
To admit that something to small
Could ever harm someone at all.
Because that’s all it takes at the very end;
Even though strongest man will bend
If you hurt him down to his very core.
There just wont be a man there anymore.
Broken, shattered, bent, and left in pieces
So far done, they’re utterly speachless.
With nothing to say, do, hear, or feel
Every last person will kneel.
That is the nature of the world around:
There will always be a loser in the last round.

Do you know what it takes to make you?
Your bits and pieces, your very seams.
And just what it takes to pull out your screams.

Do you know what it takes to make you?
What it takes for you to feel no more?
How long death will stay on the other side of your door?

Do you know what it takes to make you?
Make, create, give, earn,
Love, live, laugh, learn,
Want, think, plan, yearn,
Break, bend, die, burn.

Do you know what it takes to break you?

theres nothing left
just dakness
only scilence
long empty thoughts
speachless
hurt
tears running down my face
every one is gone
the wrold is bleak
there are only lies
who am i
who are you
am i a mistake
how many days have came and gone
what even left to say
what is even left to say
the world is ending
when warfare breakes lose
am i going crazy
or am i losing you
how long have i survivied
is there more pain
or do we all dissaper
long days
speachless thoughts
memories fade
from the faces
who playd lies
will we even dare to step out of line
when we are all broken lies
what do se see
our own shadow or the evil in our eyes
nothing makes sence
its all a hoox
is a voice real
or is it just our imagination
do i really sound like that
endless roads
endless memories
what about our past
it scares me with a cold chill
can any one hear me
my screams to pull me out
scary monsters
play out
the moon never leaves
all the stars glow brighter
lighting a candle is no better
what am i to you or you to me
this is all scarey to me
how far cani touch the stars
is there a new path we are
what is the world coming to
is the warfare over
or do we have to take cover so no one can harm the pretty flowers
love

Like a solemn
blossom,
he makes his appearance,
this hindrance,

in my rooftop,
with a flip-flop,
in cherubic
outfit,
oh so tiny
and limy!

This perplexing
cherubim, mixing
beams and a pigment
from a distant
perfection,
shouts 'action!',
up on my rooftop!

I climb the immense
leather
in my underware
- oh what a brilliance
of a ****
homemade!

I say 'salutations,
in this christmas' occasion!',
he moves backward,
the makeshift,
and then forward,
in his heart a lift,
engorged,
in my beauty scorched!

As his host
I had started a toast
but went speachless
finding him flightless,
for a wingless cherubim
was he...!

But it's Christmas,
so in ranges
we had some oranges
and tequila,
for pain healer.

On my rooftop
as a isthmus,
oh gods of Olympus!,
we hear a pop,
a cackle,
stars as sprinkles
of kringles!
- Oh oh, is it Santa?!
- Oh no, it's my Claus...!

Love came along in my life. Hell...Christ...Cigarettes! I couldn't forgive my passion, the way it made me feel as I looked to jesus drying up in the sun. The metaphors deserve all the glory don't they? Thinking of big nights and warm lips, and all while just wanting to ****. Golden eyes resting on the gold of god, who was really just burning to see me a cowboy pacing west like a turtle. Still standing on tight-line-friends yearning from a choir of grace and speachless as nothing happens save the rise of an old moon, rest it's soul. Yet I simply cared to think of days without the open smoke which was lighter than my fingers as I touched you hard within stammers of each breathe. Years gone by and still sure he'd lost; swearing on everlasting angels.

Is it too bad to say that I feel empty?
There are no memories of the two weeks that passed too soon.
its like the time had stopped,
Onlu flashes of surprise, laughter, hope, pain, respect, anxiety, guilt, sorrow, worry, gratitude, love, sharing,
Listening in speachless silence.

I feel like sand.
I feel no water inside me.
But I remember water falling on me.
I remember the green glint of the reflected sun.

And then the wind of time blew,
and the footprints lose their memory.

The sand wonders why?
All the water has to dry,
or get soaked up too deep, too quick.
That a thousand ploughs can't reep.
So it holds on against the wind,
But nothing will hold on till the end.

Forgive me if it fades away,
But the soaked water will stay,
To give me cool when the sun gets too hot.

"Dearest friend, don't do that... you'll die."
"Oh, I'm already dead."
"Speachless but welcome, welcome to my land of the living dead."
"Darling, I know this place well, no need for introductions."
"I... I am the owner of this cemetery..."
*"Oh, sweet friend, stop. We need none of this.
My darling, we'll rot together."

You caught me off guard.
You threw me for a loop.
I've been left confused, speachless, and breathless.
You think you love me.
You say you have these "feelings for me".
What does any of that even mean?
I have to believe that it was all stemmed from the intoxication.
A mere drunken moment.
You can't love me.
You don't even know me.
Maybe, you love the idea of me.

****. I wish you wouldn't have said that.
Now I'll just be waiting for you to leave just like everyone else.
I'll go on automatic self-destruct.
I'm like a time bomb.
It's likes personal bet to see how fast I can make you leave.

Why won't I just let myself be happy for once?

usually words   s p u t t e r,
but your
              dilemmas
make me
             unforgivably...
                                         *speachless

What are the good of words?
We  write  about  love  about
life about lust about  longing
  — yet you:

He is
the essence of a sunny day
I am speachless


© A. Leigh

Trapped again
Willingly unnecessary
Distractions like a debtor
Too eager to collect
The **** am I thinking
Another way to escape today
To observe and play and pretend
It's greatly helping my ability
To move on
I see no problem letting go
But now I can't seem to grasp
The anvil above my head
Held aloft by tactics of procrastinating
Not to mention *******
Taciturn and speachless until the waves
Crashing in my poster bleed though
To the voices in my head
Telling tides of dread and woe
And excuses and commitment issues
And ****** muscles and stoic
Flourishes gesture to rend me an
Accomplice to unconsciousness.
Then I wake up two hours later
Dashing hopes that power taken
Is mistaken and time doesn't matter anyways
The tick tock counter gadget measures
My time aloft better than my irregular
Breaths and numbed heartbeats
I've fallen into the depths now
From a painted boat dashed upon the waves
Struggling to breath water and searching
For the spell.