forlornly, the moon
i keep standing at the edge of reality
watching the moon pull in the tides
waves crashing against the shore
of an abandoned beach
balancing on the brink of losing myself
it's a cold night,
the wind carries away my tears
adding salt to the ocean
my toes hang off the edge
a breath lingers on my lips
the moon gazes down forlornly
as my glazed eyes wander the sky
fingers reaching tentatively toward something that isn't there
in the empty night air
a shell of a girl
who lost her soul
.
.
.
cherry chapstick
when you fell asleep at my house,
i traced my finger down your cheek
over the freckles sprinkled across your face
over your hidden dimples
over your sweet cherry lips
i leaned down,
feeling your breath on my cheek
your soft lips parted
and it took all i had
not to kiss you.
because we're just friends,
you and i,
we braid each others hair
sleepover every other day
whisper velvet secrets
but you smell so sweet
and when i look into your eyes,
i forget to breathe
your dimples
were they left by the deep kiss of an angel?
at school when you run to him
and he kisses you
you look at him with your soft doe eyes
i clench my fists
my fingernails dig into my skin
until they draw blood
you're so cruel
when will you realize?
that you torture me
with your smile
and
your
dimples
Nightmare
When I looked into his eyes, I saw a vast darkness that skimmed the edges of infinity. His smile, his words, his gestures -- everything was warm, comforting; the only secrets lay hidden in his eyes, grey eyes that lay flat and shine with an eerie onyx blackness. Torn from his back were ebony feathers that shone with a dark, glittering magic, making my skin tingle and my eyes burn. I reached out to trail my fingers along them, the seductive magic calling my name. They burned the tips of my fingers, seared my skin, and yet I couldn't pull away; a deep panic started in my chest, and I woke up, panting, in bed.
Eyes wide, I clutched the sheets with white knuckles and heaved breath after breath. My eyes flitted around in the darkness and the comfort of my room engulfed me; I steadied, waitting for my rapid heartbeat to slow.
I had dreamed of him again. He was an elusive nightmare, I could recall faint edges and bits and pieces that were blurred and jagged. I remember a smirk, revealing sharp edged teeth and eyes that glinted grey in the darkness. The wings were the only clear image that lingered, the feeling of lightning pulsing through my veins as I stroked the silken feathers.
Was he a fallen angel, or the devil? Something faint tapped at the back of my mind, a memory long lost, curled in the ivy of my subconcious and untangible. I could never be sure, but what I did know, from that eerie chill that crawled up my spine, was that he was hunting me. I could feel him, a dark and beautiful presence, lingering in the shadows of what I could not rememeber.
And yet, somehow, I hoped he would find me.
i only love you(r touch).
when we kiss it's fire, burning our lips and tongues and teeth. we can't pull away, can't look away, my eyes lock onto yours; your kiss trails down my neck, leaving fire in its wake. your breath makes me shiver, your whispers linger in my ear.
i love you(r touch).
you make me fire, you make me burn, fiery and passionate and bright, until i can't take it anymore. until my fingers are burnt at the tips and i cry ashes and my hair smells of smoke.
i hate you.
we do not love each other. there's nothing in your eyes but desire, and it burns me to look.
the warm touch of love is soft and sweet, leaving butterflies in its wake and honey dripping from my fingers. but this is lust, and it burns and hurts and chokes me until i can't breathe,,, but i can't let go of you,
i want you
to burn me. x
my curly-haired boy
xx
killing me softly
your gentle touch
shivers
shivers on my skin
fluttering like my heart
against
my chest
x
memories of your lips
on my skin
the ghost of your touch
haunts me
x
your hands
cup me perfectly
warm against my chest
leaving goosebumps
in their wake
x
your breath against
my neck
touch me softly
trace my skin
with your fingertips
x
hold me against your chest
do you feel something
or are you just
holding on tight
please
don’t let me go
i may just
fall
apart
xx
when you’re a science major
i miss writing.
i miss pencil against paper.
i miss the scratch of the lead, the smooth flow of the words, the tree-scent of the rustling paper.
i miss the feeling of creating something beautiful in my own words.
the reason i love to write is because you create instead of follow — no equations, methods, rules, or calculations.
you're just — free. free to make whatever you want.
free to let yourself run wild.
i miss being free.
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