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For MichaelAt this moment, if I could,
I would wrap my arms around you
and tell you that it's ok to cry. That
everything is alright, that everything is as it should be.
I would tell you that it's ok to be afraid.
I would let your tears fall,
look you in the eyes, and smile at you.
I would tell you that life will go on, and that
one day, you will be reunited,
no matter where your belief's lie.
I would tell you what you already know,
that she loves you,
that she will always be with you,
that she is no longer suffering.
And you will feel her close by
with you at all times. Because
she is part of you. And you are part of her.
You are her son, the one
that made her eyes sparkle,
made her face light up,
made her smile.
But there is no way to force these things
into your head. It's your heart that's grieving.
I know that your heart
is cold and blue, and choked with tears and confusion.
So all I will do is tell you that I love you,
and eventually, although it may seem like life will
never be the same,
The Ashes of my DreamsThose are the ashes of my dreams,
Floating on the wind as time passes by.
Sitting and waiting
As moonbeams softly fall through the sky,
Cutting my flesh like tiny daggers and
Landing gently on the ground below.
Recycled blood just like recycled dreams,
Just like recycled words and thoughts and stories.
And I stare up at the sun as if waiting for some answers
And my blindness leaves me crying out of empty eyes.
Darkness is the light,
Only then will I be able to sleep.
Rest eternally, find my thoughts,
Thoughts on paper,
Ramblings all the same.
Menacing words, hiding within me and keeping me awake.
And it's never good enough,
Only good enough to hate.
The Value of LifeWhile shopping for groceries, my friend and I rounded a corner and bore witness to some confused commotion down one of the food isles. A woman walking towards us held up her hands and splayed them about six inches apart; "It was this big!" She stammered, talking to another customer.
It was a mouse. Or perhaps a rat. I wouldn't be able to find out. Because as we parked the cart, I walked over just in time to see something get kicked into a box, and although my mind was thinking 'wow, that's great! The rodent will be taken outside and away!' It seems that my optimistic thinking was just me, because a customer decided that he would rather kill it than have it saved: he dropped a box of firewood on it.
What was left was a small red smear; it looked like some sort of paint or liquid candy concoction, as 'clean up on isle six' boomed over the loudspeakers.
'Clean up on isle six' was repeated over the intercom more than once, as one of the employees stood watch to make sure that no
Untitled ObservationTo one side of me, my right,
A woman waits for her two nieces to come from the salon.
She paces back and forth, an unlit cigarette sitting in her designer bag.
I had no light to give her.
To my left, a Starbucks, a group of young adults sit in a circle,
The summer breeze carrying their youthful laughter
And caressing their sun-kissed skin.
And me in the middle, my blue hair tussled and ruffled – no 'hair-do' there, just self.
My sunglasses reflecting the surrounding vehicles
I can see through them,
But you can't see me.
Break-up"So, I wanted to talk to you about us."
I lean forward. I've heard that leaning forward really engages a person to listen to you.
"I think that we rushed into things a little too fast."
He's staring at me. I can see his eyes are watering.
"I want you to know that I think you're an amazing person, and I feel so honored that you want to be with me. You've got everything, you know? You're the perfect guy. I just think that we rushed into things a little too quickly."
"Ok." He begins to fiddle around with the straw sticking out of his coffee cup. The silence is killing me. I know that sometimes silence is a good thing, but not now.
"This really sucks, I know," I look away for a moment. It's killing me, really, because I can see that he wants to cry. I want to cry. It hurts me to hurt him. I really don't like hurting people. I've been in this situation before, except I was in his spot. I was the one being dumped, and my dumper, I suppose you could call him, was probably a thousand mil
When beautiful things go unnoticed,
when beautiful things are ignored,
when beautiful things are dying,
there may not be one to save them.
When beautiful things are crying,
when beautiful things will die,
when beautiful things are diving,
there may not be one to hold them back.
But I caught this beautiful thing,
and I kept her from dying,
though she was hell-bent on her ending,
I held this beautiful thing in my arms.
And she closed her eyes in wonder,
at the world I pulled her into,
as she now was as visible as a spirit,
but as immortal as legend.
For she was now my Keeper,
and I held her in my arms,
and she kissed my cheek as I held her,
and all I could do was blush.
When beautiful things touch your soul,
there is no accustomed way to act,
and I felt my heart beat one with hers,
and I cared nothing of the rest.
For a beautiful thing had touched my soul,
like nothing ever had before,
and she wished to hold me longer,
and I wished to hold her forever.
or maybe it actually is.this
a love poem:
this is not about
me and how i hate
the way realism tastes.
this is about you.
this is about how you
are one too many shades arrogant,
how nearly every night you
try to forget that time has
left you behind. this is
about your laugh and the way it
whispers "i can't remember
what i was like before i
became this." and,
if i'm being honest, this is about
how i will never see your too
cocky for your own damn good grin that
makes me go weak in the knees.
this is about you
and how you're not real and how i wish
to god that i wasn't either.
WomanA story behind her eyes
A dream on her lips
Waiting to be said,
Waiting to be true.
A voice from heart.
A lovely sound.
You're so tender,
So simple and complicated.
Spontaneous and shy.
Silent and talkative.
Serious and funny.
Always in love.
Tears rolling down for an illusion.
Eyes looking up missing somebody.
Letters never sent.
A heart that never sleeps.
You are so beautiful
Even when you feel you're the ugliest one.
You are a princess
Even when you feel nobody cares of you.
You are a goddess
Even when years painted lines on your face.
A sweet strength
A reason to love.
StoryA man on a corner with a dirty look
Telling a story written in no book
A thousand times told in form of a verse
But never to the one he loved the most
A woman on a corner with a gloomy look
Listening to the story written in no book
A thousand times told in form of a verse
Didn’t know the woman she was loved the most
A cat on a corner with a cunning look
Listening to the story written in no book
A thousand times told in form of a verse
It was the time of the day it loved the most
A stone on a corner with a cold look
Waiting for the man to finish his book
A thousand years passed and no one cared
For the rock on the corner or the story of the man
How To LoveNext time you're laying in bed trying to fall asleep, call your girl and tell her you love her. Say it over and over and talk to her until she falls asleep with the phone in her hand. Tell her you love her before you hang up, even though you know she can't hear you. When you see her next, whether it be at school, at work, or even at her house, kiss her with meaning. Don't be afraid to kiss your girl in front of your friends and family. Show her that you aren't above that and you're not ashamed. Offer your jacket to her when it's cold and insist she take it, no matter how cold you really are. Send her flowers when she's sick and you can't be there, and cuddle with her when you can without caring if you catch what she has. Call her after work or school just to make sure she got home safely, even though you watched her walk in the front door. Lay down your jacket in a puddle so her $100 shoes don't get wrecked, even if your jacket costs $300. Send her flowers even if she isn't sick becaus
disenchanted superheroyou are my kryptonite
even though i’m no superman;
i’m just riddled with weakness,
but i must be strong enough
to keep you.
(you are a drug
i can’t put down.
i don’t want to.)
we are standing on a precipice,
and i’m realizing i can’t fly.
(will you jump
on the way down.)
your hand is warm in mine
and i’m not strong enough to let go.
(stay by me.
be my strength,
because i’m not a super hero
and i can’t save you.
A Bisexual Poem.A Bisexual poem
Some people like men
Some people like women
Some may like the same genders of themselves
Some also like both
Liking both genders is being bisexual
I'm bisexual myself
No, i'm not ashamed of it
I'm proud of it
All bisexuals should proud of it
It's just who we are
Some people may accept us
And some people may not
If they don't like bisexuals, just forget about them
If they do like bisexuals, be their friend
I'm proud to be bisexual
You should be too.
Leaving TulsaGuitar strings marked your palms,
tattooing lyrics onto your skin
and making it glow like italic rust.
Garrett, would you have called me
over to your favorite spot
in the mountains
if you'd known that I was just as
lost as those scared rabbits,
running away from a dust storm?
Boy, I didn't expect to fall
prey to your September eyes
but that's exactly what happened.
And I never thought
we'd have anything in common,
let alone a strange
fire burning a hole in our sides;
our protective shells like Lego houses.
The thrill of wanderlust
rushed through our veins
as we sat, sipping cokes with rum
at a little soiled dove
bar in Tulsa on the weekends.
We talked about the places
we'd see if we ever
were to leave home,
sharing made-up fantasies
about running down gypsy roads
with backpacks strapped
to our bodies and wildflowers
melting in our cheeks
as we blushed under
a bourgeois European sun.
Boy, you smiled like you
couldn't wait to defy gravity
and I felt sorry that
your family didn't see
Damn meDid you know I smile upon seeing yours
Did you know my heart skips upon seeing your face
Did you know I wish to hear your voice before I seek sleep
Heaven's knocking on the door of my heart but my palms sweat
Bliss is the liquid fire upon my mind but I wish to contain what already is
Sweet upon the touch of my flesh that I wish was yours but I worry of ruining what is already had
A dark cloud ascends from the face of the beautiful moon that is the full of your face
Goddess of the rosen petals that are the softness of your lips
Swift songs of silken words from crescent petals that purse and smile with pronunciation
Porcelain flesh smooth to the touch of snow angel's skin
If...If these boundaries and borders didn't exist,
my thoughts would be less fogy and without any mist.
If we didn't belong to different cultures and religions,
it wouldn't be difficult for me to take these decisions.
If these differences and distances could disappear,
I would be diagnosed with happiness and no sign of fear.
If these restrictions and limitations could vanish,
all my stress and tensions would suddenly diminish.
If we hadn't confessed our love for each other,
would you still care for me, would you still bother ?
If we hadn't met at all,
I wouldn't be so confident and stand so tall.
If I was as mature as you and you as immature as me,
we both could let go of these feelings and set each other free.
If you were as tangled as me and me as untangled as you,
I'll accept that this is not an illusion and your love for me is true.
If I didn't smile whenever I missed you,
and look in the mirror to capture the astonishing view.
If all this was just a sweet dream or may be a bluff,
The CoJoined SplitIt was the strangest thing
Sitting at my computer,
Room fairly cleared out,
Alanis Morissette blaring out of my computer,
And he walks in uninvited,
Just as she's singing about it.
And memories blend with reality –
Out of my peripheral vision
I saw half him and half him.
But that's all it was – a blending of two things.
Two things joined
Two things apart.
Together and splitting.
I had the mental image that it was
Him, not just him.
That's just the way it was.
Keep in Touch!
^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More