1. i still leave all the doors in my house open.
there’s not that many anyway, but i can’t bear
to hear them shut anymore. the draft is
killing me—i don’t remember the last
time i felt warm.
2. if time stopped when i was with you,
it is making up those seconds now because
i blink and the tea is no longer steaming
and it is no longer night and i am still
writing this poem, trying to convince myself
that i am not waiting for you to call.
3. surely the butterflies i got when i first
saw you created hurricanes on the other side of
the world. whenever it rains, i still think of you.
4. my keyboard is growing anxious. i k
A subtle glance
My hand on your thigh, around your waist
The smoothness enticing me into your depths
Single moments where I have to overrule my heart, my mind
Inside I am longing for more
Your lips meeting me half way
Moist with the anticipation of fulfilling our secret
Your hands clasped tightly around my waist
Your eyes lighting the embers in my soul
Until reality returns smothering the fervor
Our clandestine encounter will have to wait
Our satisfaction on hold until the peril subsides
Anguish well worth the return in my mind
For most of my life I have searched for truths
Until now, exploring the murky underbelly of humanity for knowledge
W
I sit atop a lonely hill
and all beneath is quiet and still.
The thrum of busy life has gone,
its timpani will beat at morn.
Birds gather under eaves of night,
before they take the day’s end flight.
Till then I sit and let dusk glance
around me as the stars advance.
Light is fading, candles lit,
Memories reaching from a pit,
climbing up the hill to me,
blindly for they cannot see.
I’m steeped in shadows from the past,
knowing that they cannot last -
these sightless things, they strive to feel,
And reach to me atop the hill.
But brief are those that take my breath,
and render me a taste of death,
as I lay upon this silent hill,
n
the five steps of stitching together a wound by MisfitableGrae, literature
Literature
the five steps of stitching together a wound
1. i fall out of love with you on a tuesday.
to be honest, i don’t know it’s happening until
it’s happened, until i sit in my bed that night
and look at the neat holes you’ve left
dotting my life. weeks ago, i gave you back
your jacket when the weather
turned warm enough that i wasn’t smoking
with every breath. the space it took up
on my desk chair remains emptied, but
i am sure it will be filled again soon,
with piles of books i will never lend you
and poems you will never hear me speak,
that aren’t about you, that use words i’ve never
told you, like ‘vitriol’ and ‘bubbly’.
Only I know the meaning
of the shadows in your eyes,
I track the light as it passes
across your face.
Each of your scars
speaks a language of its own,
my fingers tremble to touch
for each one sends a whisper
that shivers down the edges
of my soul.
Your lips, blue as the moon
on a cloudless night
taste of bourbon & smoke,
dreams & death,
life reawakened.
I press my ear to your throat
listening to the echo of your heart
and I know if I hold your pulse
between my teeth
you will be mine.
What is love?
Who is love?
How do you find it?
I don't understand.
Can someone help me
Find the meaning of love?
The dictionary says it's
"An intense feeling of
Deep affection,"
But I still don't understand.
I've never felt it, not
Truly.
My family loves
Me, I
Think, but I
Know they don't love
Me, you
Know?
It sounds nice, this
"Love."
Cute.
People say
"Oh, he's
Cute!" Or
"Wow, what a
Cutie."
But what does
That word even
Mean?
What does it have
To do with relationship
Decisions?
Honestly, all I
Need in a
Guy is a few
Simple things
I want to have intelligent
Conversations.
I want to binge watch
Anime with them.
I want to eat anything
In front of them.
I want them to
Have a sense of humor.
"Cuteness" is not
Necessary.
"Cuteness" is something
That gets in the way of
Perfect matches.
I jumped into stein’s gate, I just had to meet my love,
She said I had a heart full of metal.
An alchemist only willing to give half,
My path, was hidden like the paper,
Of a death note to the unseen eye,
I wish I could unsee I trying to force
My grapes into her forbidden fruit basket.
I mean, she was a girl bravo.
Confident, proud, always called me her go to,
Her glow was so bright, I thought I was the man,
But she was the one looking like Goku.
The stronger she got, the more we faded,
I was the bleach, to her shirt,
Turning darker than black, thought I needed to .Hack
To break down her quantum physics.
But for what? The compounds were
different futures, different memories by creativelycliche, literature
Literature
different futures, different memories
[Query 1: 2021]
Fever:you are not what I expected from the numbers;
becoming algorithmic in the chambers of my heart,
like 003 in backward spinning galaxies, breaking me
but making me, too
and moments closer;
burned inside the plating,
becoming veins of blue and grey
neurotic, well - not as color blind
as you once were
this decaying program has a few moments left, in you -
Display: "why do you keep making moments, if they fade?"
a matter of facts and lines burned in by mercury,
stripping this, piece by piece into the sink
solar numerator divided by new dictionaries,
it's the same words, but different meaning