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I have a craving, so delightfully strong, I want someone. I want the moment with that someone. The moment in which you’re stuck, just the two of you. Smiling into each other’s eyes. The split second where nothing happens, yet you feel everything.



I want the first kiss with someone. Someone that can leave a magical feeling just floating around my world. Looking into their eyes and knowing they're smiling so freely back at me, knowing they're in this moment waiting. Leaning in, with my hand cupping their face and holding them close to slowly kiss them. Feeling their smiles through the kiss, slowly breathing together as our bodies become one. Meshed together in soft love, stress evaporates through the air.



Everlasting, still intertwined forgetting the world is passing us by. Because in this moment we can last forever and a day.



Because whilst we are kissing, our spirits are twisting and shouting in joyful glee.



I want that first raw kiss with someone. A crazed surge of lip biting, neck sucking, ass grabbing, euphoria. Taking each second in with a raw love.



Pulling their head gently to the side and kissing down their neck, hearing the gentle moans of pleasure escaping their body as I suck presciently along their collarbones, before holding their face in place and kissing them again, and again, and again. Each time harder, passion erupting between us.



Slowly our clothes fall away, until I’m kissing their neck again, then their chest, then their stomach. Taking my time, leaving purple love bites every inch. Writing a new chapter of our story with my mouth and tongue. Licking gently up their body and into another kiss, then a pause. And a deep breath almost simultaneously.



I want that first kiss, I want the passion of a new love. I want the world to stop spinning and wait for us. I need that first kiss. I need the desire to have someone who wants me just as much that we can literally stop the world.

She was an enigma.



Dark, red brown eyes paired with painfully plump pink lips usually turned down slightly in a thoughtful frown.



Mahogany hair tumbled down her shoulders in sinfully perfect waves, framing her oval face well.



Her seemingly flawless ivory skin seemed smooth and wrinkle-free. Youthful and stress-free; what a time to be alive.



Her beauty sent many reeling, some in envy while others in admiration.



Slightly imperfect pearly whites added to her natural charm, the mischievous grin she flashed could force anyone to their knees.



After all, the brighter the smile, the blinder they are to what’s hidden behind it.

COMMENTS

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Blitzahn
14:09 Jul 28 2015

This is so true, how people think a smile always means happiness but sometimes it is hiding the real feelings.

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She became terrified of her own thoughts, taking her places she doesn’t want to be taken, showing her cases she doesn’t want to witness. Smacking her down to her knees, pulling out the darkness inside her and spreading it across her universe. 




He’s been watching her, noticing the change on her face, in her attitude, he saw the light was taken away from her. And finally decided to crash into her little world like a ray of fire, started fighting her thoughts and keeping her temporarily safe in his arms.



Cause even when he recognized the fear in her features, he still remembered the strength behind her eyes. He believed in her. He knew that all she needed was to be reminded of the bulletproof vest she was once wearing, she needed to get a gaze of the smile she once carried and to learn the technique of building a new embarkment to keep her thoughts from streaming down her mind.



It was only a matter of time until she regained control of her thinking, and stepped up to the beast named fear. 
She finally realized that every person can reach a breaking point, and she was lucky enough to find him there to help her, making her believe there is nothing wrong with accepting help once it’s offered, and nothing wrong about asking for it either.

i fall in love with words that speak to knowing who i am, with words that speak to discovering who you are.

i fall in love when asked what is interesting about me.

i fall in love when you’re underneath me, your skin touched by my hands.

i fall in love with tired eyes, worried eyes, anxious eyes.

i fall in love with fierce eyes, made intense by the madness that lives within.

i fall in love with the madness. the storm that dwells that is never tamed but is instead ridden out with expertise.

i fall in love with wild horses that i can never ride, but who instead show me where to go.

i fall in love with restlessness, shown in the cascading fall of hair.

i fall in love with indecision, the safety of uncertainty.

i fall in love with stubborn tears.

i fall in love with irrational fears.

i fall in love with hurricanes, with whirlwinds.

i fall in love standing in the rain.

i fall in love with the sweetness that comes sometimes only with the new moon.

i fall in love with the bitterness that grows easily up through cracks, sprouting difficult weeds to remove.

i fall in love with movements, dances i can only admire.

i fall in love in the act of being pushed down.

i fall into love, for there it exists so clearly on the ground.

i fall in love with the rise and fall of sleeping chests, with lips parted open slightly.

i fall in love with the sounds you don’t know you make.

i fall in love with the way bodies tremble in nightmares, woken by a gentle kiss.

i fall in love with those who fall off bikes, who dart head first recklessly into traffic.

i fall in love with speed.

i fall in love with the act of appreciation.

i fall in love with the knowledge you will walk away and i will let you go.

devour me with the rawness, shred me to the end. grab me, bite me, destroy me and never fade so sweetly into the dark.



swallow me with aggressive gulps. twist me, crush me, break me down and expose my darkness to the twinkles that remain beneath the black above us.



and when its all over i will still crave you for all that you are.

fall in love with winter girls

girls with knitted jumpers

girls whose lips always taste like peppermint

girls with dark lips & bright eyes

girls who are always warm



fall in love with spring girls

girls with sun-kissed freckles

girls who eat strawberries

girls who have daisies braided into their hair

girls who laugh like sunshine



fall in love with summer girls

girls who sing their hearts out at concerts

girls with dark skin from the ocean

girls who dance under the sun

girls tinged with pink orange and red



fall in love with autumn girls

girls who wrap themselves in leather & denim

girls who have poetry etched in their veins

girls you find in bookstores

girls with red lips that are always on you

i was a sad sap

for things like

holding hands

& forehead kisses



i also really loved it

when my face was

against your mattress

& my skin turned pink

under your rough hands



tender fingers

open-mouthed kisses

throaty moans

heated spankings

searing-hot essence



both these women

are inside me

& i will not

apologize for that

Find what you love and let it kill you. Let it drain you of your all. Let is cling onto your back and weigh you down into eventual nothingness. Let it kill you and devour your remains. For all things will kill you, both slow and quickly but its much better to be killed by a lover.



Don't you agree?

Sometimes

You'll just be too much woman.



Too smart.

Too beautiful.

Too strong.

Too much of something



That makes a man feel like less of a man which will start making you feel like you have to be less of a woman.



The biggest mistake you can make is removing jewels from your crown to make it easier for a man to carry it.



When this happens I need you to understand something, you do not a smaller crown -



You just need a man with bigger hands.

there's a fire in her they mistook for the sun. a little girl learned to tuck an axe beneath her skirt before her mother could pin the wolf skin over her shoulders.



as a child, she played a game with that intimidated teenage boys, she called it "intimate insects" yet they called it swallowing hornets, they created a ticking time bomb out of her. her ex boyfriend calls her beautiful like the Trummerberg in Germany; he adds she has a skin of steel and a restless mouth always shaped like a hungry spoon.



she pushed you til the earth was your stable food and her fingers tasted like blueberries, she bent nations over her knees and broke the Devil's spine with a smile, how could she not?



she was taught to drown the darkness with her blood but the day you come to her, guilt echoing in your ears like a shotgun relentlessly like the ocean tides.



when you come to her with a knife buried deep in your sternum, baby.



she couldn't resist, baby.



the tornado was delicious, baby.



even the wicked would stone you, baby.



she'll pick the universe from her eyes and drop it on your bedroom floor and she'll build you a home of honeycomb between her teeth because she knows, she knows how lost one feels when the monsters board up the closets and refuse you refuge.

I would’ve set the moon on fire for you,


And brought it crashing down upon the earth.


Nothing you could’ve ask me that I wouldn’t do. 


And in return I was left alone, such a cliche curse. 




I had given you the world, my days and my nights,


For you I had all but taken my own life.


Became the definition of misery with every fight.


But for you I had put away my ego, tossed my pride.




I spent months chasing, begging every step of the way, 


A mistake I had made, but to fix it I was willing to pay any price.


Anything you asked, I would’ve done, so long as you stay,


Alas I was unaware the price of my fault was you walking out of my life. 




A year has passed since we met, half a year since you left,


And I am now finally ready to leave you in my past.


After so long I can finally feel the pain lift from my chest,


Many times we’ve said goodbye, but lover this will be the last. 




Yet for you darling, I feel nothing but sympathy,


For you have lost she who loved you unconditionally.


While I lost he who caused me infinite misery,


You have lost my passionate love, and earned enough hatred to last all eternity.



May you be safe, may you live out your days happily,


May you find she who will be able to love you endlessly.


But I pray you see my face in your nightmares daily,


May you find peace, but only after you experience my same sorrow, my epic tragedy.

My dad always told me not to fall in love with the guy who you know will leave you awake at 1 am wondering what you did wrong.



I met you and I thought you’re way too good to do that.



The first night I came home with your cologne on my hoodie, you made me feel extremely high, but I had taken no drugs. And I though to myself you’re way to good to do that.



The third night I came house with my valentine red nail polish chipped off of my nails. We went to your friend's bonfire and you were talking to another girl who had the same color eyes I did, but somehow you had the courage to look her in the eyes, you never look me in the eyes. And I still thought to myself you’re way too good to do that.



The fourteenth night I came home smelling like sweat and vodka. I tried to find my way out that night. I felt like I was in a maze, but I still had some hope that you would look me in the eyes. You never did. I convinced myself you’re way too good to do that.



The twenty-seventh night I came home with my cheeks stained from my tears and it just reminded me how your collar was peppered with her kisses. I wrote down somewhere that you’re way too good to do that.



The thirty-second night I ran into you at a friend's party. We got high together and I still didn’t feel as high as the night we first met.



I thought you liked me.



But then I remembered...



You’re way too good to do that.

tonight your heart will break, and you’ll know what it feels like to have all the warmth you hold inside your chest bleed out of your eyes and dry up into nothing.



the tears don’t stop, they won’t stop until everything inside you is completely dried out but you’ll try to hold them in.



so you’ll close your eyes and sink your teeth into your lip and you won’t realise how deep you’ve bitten into your own flesh until red breaks through the crevices in your skin.



everything burns. the vodka in your throat. The smoke in your lungs. the tears in your eyes.



everything is burning down, there’s fire on your skin and your mouth is full of ash.



tonight darkness will seep into your ears and take residence in your head. It will be loud and destructive and you’ll try to break yourself open to pull it out but it will dig its claws into your skull and snap its jaws at your hands



there will be pain. it may feel like it will never end but honey, you know better than anyone else:



nothing lasts forever.



so if in the middle of the night you feel something faceless chewing at your heart and you can’t find your voice so your screams only echo inside your bones, remember to just breathe.



this pain means you’re still alive



feel it.



there are dead things inside you, but you are still alive.

Everyone knows exactly what kind of girl she is. She’s the kind of girl who’d be the first to remind you that the sun is just a hot ball of gas when you marvel at the colors of a sunset. She’s the kind of girl who listens to pretentious alternative music and whose favorite movie is probably something from before the 1980s.



She’s the girl who makes off-handed comments about how messed up the world really is and how capitalism will most definitely end in hell-fire. The kind of girl who’d kick a man in the balls if the need arises (and maybe even if it doesn’t). You think you know her, but you never actually do.




If you look closely enough (if she lets you look closely enough), you’d see the dented halo resting on top of her dyed blue-black head. It’s dim and it doesn’t glow as brightly as it should. But it’s there and when the world is dark enough, when the stars and moon won’t shine for you, it’s the brightest thing around.



She also has wings. They’re hidden under her shiny leather jacket that smells of death and cigarettes, and they don’t work very well. They’re broken and bent and mostly useless. But every once in a while, when the rain beats down you so hard you can feel your skin breaking, she’d spread them wide and you’d rest under them and the relief they’d provide can’t be explained in mere words. 




She doesn’t like her reflection, either. She only sees the devil in her soul when she looks at it. She can’t remember the color of her eyes anymore and when she cries, the stardust caked beneath her eyelids mixes with her tears and it’s the ugliest thing you’ll ever see.



Her breath smells like regret and peppermint and blood. She laughs like poison and sneers like a poem. Her smile never reaches her eyes and hands are always cold. And there’s something so inherently sad about her. She’s the train-wreck you can’t help but stare at, unblinking, unbelieving, very ashamed.



She keeps secrets like you’d keep pets. She grooms them, lets them grow, she lets them fester. And she loses them, sometimes. She can’t keep track of how many she’s lost. And when they’re loose, they devour everything in their wake. She can’t believe how many there are. Inside her, around her. They’re everywhere.



She’s an angel. She’s a monster. She’s the storm brewing and the lightning that comes after. She’s the universe. She’s the void. She’s infinitely vast and infinitely empty. She’s heaven and hell and everything in between.



How did they ever think they could define her?

Stop looking at me


the moon whispered.


Stop looking at me


the moon cried.



I see them pointing with
 their tiny fingers,
 at me.


Smiling, while gazing at me.


Kissing each other,
 under my light.


They seem to be collided,
 about to fight.



I see kids with their parents


Gasping at the white face of mine


Happy to live such moments


Happy that everything’s still fine.



I see lonely people,


Wandering, searching for the key


The world closed its doors on them


They’re looking for an exit, want to be free



Sickness is taking over them


They keep on looking at me


They know that I’m out there for them


But I could never let them be free.



Beyond this earth,


my face is digging into the dark


Above the skies,


I’m no longer shining with a spark



Don’t be fooled, humans


By what you see


There’s no such creature


As lonely as me.

Most nights, I have dinner with Loneliness.

We sit across from each other, silent,

each absorbed in our own thoughts.



Sometimes, I sit with Anger.

She bashes her hands against the countertop,

screams like the world is ending.

All I can do is cover my ears and resist the urge to scream like she does.



Other nights, I sit with Depression.

Those nights are the worst, as everything that I eat is tasteless and I wonder why I’m even eating at all.



But, tonight.

Tonight I had dinner with You.

You didn’t see the loneliness, anger, and depression sitting in the seat across from me. You didn’t even blink twice as you sat down and took an already taken seat.



Yet, it didn’t matter. As you smiled at me, your eyes crinkling up at the corners, and introduced yourself, I hoped…really, really, really hoped… that this wasn’t just a single occurence. That this night was not just another night in a long stream of bland, monotonous nights.



My dinner guests were not replaced by you as you sat down. They’ll be back. They always return. But you seemed to frighten them away, if even for that single hour.



I’d love it if you joined me for dinner again.

She stares out at the sky and gets lost among the stars, she quietly started counting the shining ones and spoke her thoughts out,



‘you know the shining stars are the ones long gone? When a star is dead, there’s still some heat left over, so the heat of its own death makes it gorgeously glow’



he starred at her in sadness, he knew where this was going, but he said nothing, waiting for her to go on,



'I love how they’re trying to fight their destiny, even though their lives decided to stop, they proved a point by shining brighter every night and showed us how beautiful they can still be.’



She finally took her eyes off the night sky and looked straight into his eyes,



'maybe that’s what the universe is trying to tell us, that no matter how much our souls are begging us to give up, our love is always going to prove them wrong and shine brighter with every passing night. That no matter the distance our love will always be stronger and will glow the paths of our souls to reach out for each other again. ’



She had the biggest smile drawn on her face but the tears got so heavy in her eyes and started rushing down her cheeks, he quickly kissed her lips and took her into a broken hug and not so long before his tears joined her.

Poets have ears that prick up and turn towards the words left unsaid, nimble fingers that snatch them from the air, and ink-stained hands that sew them together to keep them from floating forever in time, slipping further along with the wind, time turning them to dust, dust turning into sorrow, sorrow tucking deep in the warmth of our souls.



Without poets, those words would become our deepest fears, our most irrational sadnesses, our search for what infected our joy. Their discovery is the answer to the search before we ever begin looking, it makes the fright a fraction shallower, and rationalizes those unholy days we can’t even let gravity drag our feet to the floor.



Yes, poets are an unseen breed that give us the words we couldn’t sew together ourselves, they are the invisible wordsmiths that come at midnight and give us the tools we need to tell that boy we were so blindly wrong and we’ve always loved him despite our selfish needs to discover ourselves, to bend to pride and express to those we’ve pushed to the outskirts of our hearts our deepest apologies, to break to the pressure of the burning questions others use to pry into why we are the way we are and tell them just how dark it is behind the brightness we put forth to keep those questions at bay, all while dancing eloquently about the most direct way to say it.



Instead, we feel safe in the confines of beautiful words and complex metaphors, for it is there for all to read, but some may still not grasp our meaning, or perhaps they’re too busy being awed by the wording to be stunned by the meaning. The world needs these blankets of lost words to soothe it back into an effortless sleep.



After all, the words left unspoken are the ones we long to hear.

My love is platonic, you say,
 The love of philosophers and two souls sharing a secret.
 My love is not defined by skin, you continued,
 It is defined by distance. By partings.
 My love is not light, nor darkness,
 For it has habitually shown itself to be its own creature, 
Feral and hungry,
 But incredibly tender.

My love is not for you, you carried on,
 Nor for the rest of humanity, or myself.
 My love is for the moon, the stars,
 the vast infinite darkness separating them, 
the waves, that dim twilight at the beginning of the world. 
My love is not definable,
 For it continually defies definition.

My love is subtle,
 A secret I’ve entrusted upon you. A duty. A gift. 
Promises. Endings and beginnings, cyclical and irreversible. My love is the night, intimate and infinite.

When sex becomes a production or performance that is when it loses its value. Be mutual. Be loud. Be clumsy. Make noises, be quiet, and make a mess. Bite, scratch, push, pull, hold, thrust. Remove pressure from the moment. Love the moment. Embrace it. Enjoy your body; enjoy your partners’ body. Produce sweat, be natural, entice your senses, give into pleasure. Bump heads, miss when you kiss, laugh when it happens. Speak words, speak with your body, speak to their soul. Touch their skin, kiss their goose bumps, and play with their hair. Scream, beg, whimper, sigh, let your toes curl, lose yourself. Chase your breath; keep the lights on, watch their eyes when they explode. Forget worrying about extra skin, sizes of parts and things that are meaningless. Save the expectations, take each second as it comes. Smear your make up, mess up your hair, rid your masculinity, and lose your ego. Detonate together, collapse together, and melt into each other.

COMMENTS

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dabbler
02:33 Jul 02 2015

Well.. Erm... Fucking Truism,m a right Truism! DO IT like it's your last time, like it is your first time... like your starved..

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moonwitchrising
18:02 Jul 03 2015

Awesome! Perfect description of true love lovers :)

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