pinktwirlz

my lover is a poet not just with their words but with their gaze with the touch of their skin and their lips on mine my lover creates poetry just by breathing poetry of the world and poetry out of me in a way i can't believe (for fear that they may leave) my lover makes a poet out of me for i see stars in their gaze and warmth in their smile they're lovely and i want to compose them for the poet that they are but they, like a galaxy... indescribable

i used to see you it's not creepy or, well, you decide i used to see you and think god they're amazing like an ocean or a sunset gorgeous, ethereal, untouchable. not for me. i used to see you and imagine but not really because it seemed such a far possibility ridiculous you were for someone but not me i used to see you but i never thought god, their smile god, their laugh, god, the way they look at me makes me want to be everything but also exactly who i am i never used to see you and think you were a reality more than a pipe dream i never used to see you and think you make me so happy that when you smile it's like the sun infecting me w

an astounding lack of composition- a saturation of character- an overbearing of emotion. a swirling, dull, ignorable, persistent, fear. of everything and nothing. of kissing hurting bluffing. of loosing and gaining what sense of myself(?) some sense of myself(?) some lack and gain of the face of myself(?) the fear that myself is months dead and gone, but a new tragic dawn; for who am i, if not one and the same? for what is time if not, cyclical. for what is life if not, typical. for what is me if not, difficult. for what is a swirling sense of myself if not a persistent, insistent, consistent lack of a solid understanding of what

For a moment of peace, There's a death that I find, To presume And assume And consume. For a moment of peace, there's a way to decide what to chase. What to face. For a moment of peace, A reflection inside, A sacrifice. Of a paradise. To succeed for the need of a better faster Living. And it's better, faster, chilling. What we need. What's fulfilling. What's fulfilling is a moment of peace.

I wonder if consummation decimation confrontation is ? i wonder if- i'm going-= . anywhere ... i wonder if- my - life- has--- direction? i wonder- where i'll be- where i'll go- i wonder if-- i am- making- sense. . . . it's been years - - - - - - i've forgotten how to be                    heard

A place is (by definition) the babbling stream the rustling branch the cropping up of forgotten springtime flowers and a place (by definition) a gentle reminder of times long gone marked by the chirping– the screaming– the fleeing of birds and the chaos of a rustled branch and a thunk as it falls    and the cross of a horse    a hiker    a path    well used    by a woodsy        general        public a gentle reminder of times. long. gone. of what, who, where, has changed- of what, how, when,    I lost a simple easiness-    an existence without trying. and of what- which- whatever- decisions mismanagements t

there is a rush of wind    about me        around me it    astounds me        confounds me i lay trapped in the den    where I chose to live trapped in the pen    i could never have seen there is a rush of wind    about me        around me it escapes me    breaks me a fog in my brain a fog in my mind a heat in my room a heat that i find in cold– in darkness– trapping me in my freedom- and my pleas, i can see them- and my pleas, i concede them and i say please. i can free them. and he says please. just. breath. in.        but you will say i can't let them free and it's true, i know but that doesn't make it

This isn't beautiful This isn't poetic It's not a slow burn through my veins or a flutter of nerves and emotions It's a pulsing and not even that it's an ache a desperation a plea for help and a scream when none comes You can't fight it, you don't want to You don't accept it, you know you can't    (you, meaning me)    (you know that, right?) So in the place of what should be is a desperate ache and oh Fuck I think it's what I wanted but please Just go away    (wanted but never asked for)    (unbearable but unlosable) It's too pathetic for this many words already