Colour my eyes the brightest colour there is,
Paint my lips any colour you want,
Write poetry in place of my skin.
But don’t let anyone else read me.

you're hovering above me
eyes clouded with desire
and i watched you watch me
and thought that you really are beautiful
i closed the distance and kissed you chastely
then with more pressure and intent
the beast of your need lose hold of you
you ******* ravished me

The odds were against them
As it was their fate on a cliff, that dangled.
It was the desire for passion & the need to unite.
Cause, she was the devil and he was an angel.
.
The world had mistaken their odd identities.
For they were one since time unknown.
Her's was the rhythm to his symphonies.
His breath, her kiss, his sin, her moan.
.
I could hardly say some more.
Theirs was the truest of alliance
For both were truly in love
It was each other they were thoroughly reliant.
Upon.

Deep breath in
Deep breath out
Plaster a head-turning smile on your lips
Build up your perfect façade
I am strong
No you are not
I am fine
No you are not
I can handle it
No you cannot
Don't think about it
Think about it
Don't cry
Cry
I am-
no
you
are
*NOT!

I want to create
Beautiful things
Because
Maybe
Just maybe
It will make me beautiful
Too

I whisper poison to myself in ways only poets can,
wondering why you never asked me for the antidote.
Sat in the middle of my warzone, decomposing symphonies
formed in your ears when my poetry held you tighter than I could.
It is better to recognise your blood stains for what they are.
I blame myself. I blame myself. I blame myself.

I blame myself, when you still arrive unannounced at my door
with ****** knees and elbows. Shirt sleeves and split jeans.
Again, I have another hole to make whole again.
To stitch up your stars into rearranged constellations
that match the traced freckles on your back,
that do not form to spell my name,
that aren't metaphors; but the truth.

Dean Eastmond.