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Literature Text
I can't wait for the moment that we meet..
Will you smile in sweet defeat?
Allow your heart to skip some beats?
Shall your smile glow-
Brighter than the blush in my pale cheeks?
I just can't wait-
To feel your skin on mine.
Moonlight dancing down...
Playing with our movements.
I just kinda hope,
That I never fall;
Never scream in pain...
To find out you do not love me...
At all.
Shall I watch your hand pull away?
Stand there in the rain,
Watching you walk away quietly.
Your smile gone,
My blushing only a distant memory;
In a forgotten land...
You must think I'm a slut,
Someone whom has to have it all.
I'm not.
I just wish you hadn't let me fall,
Cut me when I least expected it.
Stabbed my heart from behind,
Told me I'm nothing more than a stupid lie.
Just know,
I love you.
For,
I'm truly nothing with out you...
Will you smile in sweet defeat?
Allow your heart to skip some beats?
Shall your smile glow-
Brighter than the blush in my pale cheeks?
I just can't wait-
To feel your skin on mine.
Moonlight dancing down...
Playing with our movements.
I just kinda hope,
That I never fall;
Never scream in pain...
To find out you do not love me...
At all.
Shall I watch your hand pull away?
Stand there in the rain,
Watching you walk away quietly.
Your smile gone,
My blushing only a distant memory;
In a forgotten land...
You must think I'm a slut,
Someone whom has to have it all.
I'm not.
I just wish you hadn't let me fall,
Cut me when I least expected it.
Stabbed my heart from behind,
Told me I'm nothing more than a stupid lie.
Just know,
I love you.
For,
I'm truly nothing with out you...
Literature
Angstxiety
I am work weak on Wednesday
in a heap of hangover and hesitation
with fingers on a phone haptically
actively anticipating feedback—
I need that why do I need that.
My angst and anxiety
is constant and courses
and throbs with a pulse
that demands concern
of a baby boomer crooning poetic
in the distance to call me antisocial, or you know,
you could just call me.
If being this busy in an age
of constant communication
feels like having slept
but not feeling rested,
I'd rather cancel my plans
like a responsible millennial
and go to bed.
Literature
notesleep
playing my emphases like harp strings
your voice smokes thru the oaken bramble
pour a carbonated apology, a sun-stained
mile marked envelope, two ill-fitted birds,
hands small holes right before a rush of river
what it feels like being swallowed from the outside
crushing rings into truth serum, pretend
to be out of tune with that deception
I have been unable to parse my own persona
a pink cotton voice I remember thru the phone
I remember because it formed me into a granary
one crop after another of patriarchal idioms
whisper my secrets so softly into a glint of red hair
a saucer-eyed lace pattern cut into pine paper
I practice radical self lo
Literature
on the cusp
it is just that when i let go of you
when i let go
it's hard to remain that perfect without you.
--
the in-between of love, buds- so full of potential
our love is written in whispers on the pages
of a book which has not yet been opened.
--
that day, the sun had erased the last lines
of an unforgiving winter from my skin, i was renewed
olive skinned and feeling as if i had just fled the eternal
garden naked as i came- free, fallen.
--
the sky was dark;
nothing but the blood red smile of the moon
cut through the transient darkness of the night.
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....
Fml.! O_O
still trying to stay away from DA but I wanted to put this up.... >_<
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Comments62
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Well, you don't need to stay away from here.
Just don't stay for hours.
Simple.
Just don't stay for hours.
Simple.