to twist your legs
to twist your heart
fall in love
in the dark
we wake our rapids
fall in love with the beginning
nostalgic for memories of what was
from what could’ve been
we round our wishes
to hold our ground
he pulled our feet
when he twirled our world
upside down
some call it love
some call it masochism
i felt your hands
how they sweat
what your palms said
but your mouth couldn’t
his hands grip the edge of our bed
shaken and stirred
how you can fall in love with broken hands
two ghosts in the sheets
a devilish man with handsome teeth
lips like lightning and arms like wrong turns
to feel our warmth scattered throughout
hallways of never and before
stuck between revolving doors
downstairs, but in heaven
a relationship filled with decomposition
aggression without forgiveness
vicious voices steal your breath
hide in shadows to scratch your legs
some have words which scar your lungs
with a darkness, an incarnate
a heartless man i used to know
You were a rhyme who mattered, a being who slipped all too often.
his pulse against my ribs
the wind sways in the background
breeze drifts
things end
anger escalates
he takes hands like he takes hearts
locking them in the dark
holding shadows to a game
where he knows the rules
but fails to say
the hypocrisy, the darkness
inconsistency sold our hardship
to a failure of love
lack of us
you can hold someone’s hand
but can you truly
hold their heart?
Making love with strangers is how you get hurt.
tables turned to tables twist
to miss the days of eternal bliss
with hell twined
you call forth
in the wind of our sorrow
we divide
to abide by the love of a once desire
the clock strikes eleven
air sets on fire
pain in the eve
broken wings with broken lust
how trust rusts
love combusts and leaves you
blue with hues and shaky knees
longing sentences
and a heart which can’t see
The beauty was nothing made sense. We were complex. We were intricate. We were designed with flaws which seemed to make everything perfect. But the defining word is seem. We don’t see what’s in front of us until it’s away from us. Until it’s behind us. Until it doesn’t bother us. Sometimes things aren’t perfect, yet they appear to be. Sometimes life doesn’t make sense until it does. But it always does.
the sand feels nice
between the fingers of our youth
touch you to taste you
oasis feeds the fumes i felt for you
we tango to our past
to jazz with hands closed
grips tight
the wade consumes our essence
your aura feels like heaven
darkness takes
words spoke, our reflection
he was beyond handsome
our parallels dance in a world
where things make sense
bliss transcends
things bend, but can’t break
where hell doesn’t exist
i breakdown his words
analytical from our stem
we’s and you’s
i spoke forever on end
infinity only exists
if you believe it can
a hand atop your chest
the warmth of your breast
with legs twist
i feel your pulse with my knee
the soft of your thighs
how they speak to me
mountains make drafts
the way i do with words
as you grasp my hand
we find each others faults
in our madness
create tension where there’s heartache
i left your toothbrush in my cabinet
for a year and half
because it knew no difference
the way minutes pass
and we reminisce in the goodness of our past
the hurt, the devotion can vanish
leave a soul without intention
minutes form hours
hours form years
things begin to drift
emotions eventually lift
shades of you
hidden views
longing blues
in shape of you
where shadows
play in deceit
where people hide
in the game of your fade
to the complexity
we exist
in a rapidness
we taste each others breath
to decide if lust wins
if things could bend
back and forth
together
twined under the thorns
of our rose bush
i wrote you this poem
in seventeen
seconds
