poetry
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You cannot fight a ghost; feelings and people alike. When I sleep, my demons linger at night; each face bears a resemblance to people I’ve known in life. A cemetery for my tragedies settles in my mind. I’m haunted by my lack of strength and self-deprecating pride. A Trimester is worth a lifetime of guilt;
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I’m used to this feeling. Moving on doesn’t hurt so much anymore. My feet stopped dragging last month. My lungs no longer feel on the verge of collapse. I think you conditioned a certain kind of break— somewhere between my kisses and hers. The realization hit quietly: wanting something—someone—too badly can take the fun out
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My biggest fear is loneliness. Family, faith, lovers— have all left at a time. I even tried to leave myself. I’m worse than any ghost, haunting old places in my mind, forming a home in the crypt that occupies my heart. Nostalgia is a disease that hinders me. But my memories are where my angels
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I want to know what you are thinking. Your thoughts are friends to my own. You’re a parable for my heart and a quiet dream in my mind. Your charm allows room for discussion and it’s admirable even with your faults. You hold your emotions behind your eyes, so do not demonize me for falling.
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I am attracted to your mind. How you recognize the value in persistence and the air of benignity that surrounds you. Your perception exudes beauty. When you laugh, it carries to my ears and your eyes turn brilliant. You are music to me. I believe in the rhythm of your virility. You gave birth to
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A Made Man sacrifices company for comfort. Frightened by peers’ lack of ambition, Comforted by a friend’s success; There is something endearing about a fear of inadequacy. The desire to be more, to want more, to do more, Paraded as an addiction. We rather lay our head at the feet of faith, than to dig
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How are you lonely when the shadows of the women you have been with dance around your room at night? They watch you like ghosts, delight you to no avail, though you crave them like an addict. How are you so lonely when you have experienced so many worlds between each of their thighs, including
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Reminded of forgotten desires. Dark, with television to lighten the rich, brown, mahogany, that is my skin. So soft. Addicted to touch. My hips seared by your fingertips. Shadows danced on the walls as you gave the phantom kisses that reside on my thighs. The music background noise to your name, as if it was the
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It’s hard to define a boy like you. So lovely and hard to resist. Enchanted by your smile and how soft you kissed. Like a secret two kids would whisper at night you said my name. When you held my hand, I forgot the world with a boy like you. You said beautiful words that washed
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My mind is miles before me and I feel so out of body. Repetitive in my actions obsessing over a routine that does not seem to fit. Chasing myself weighed down by my breath, the words that live on my lips refuse to be a part of written truth. Anxiety whispers to me, to believe
Wishful Thinking 