poetry
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He never wanted to be better.He wanted to be fed. Flaws, sacred,stitched into the pen,every wound he maderepurposed into art. He studied menwho made a virtue of damage,who called destruction genius. Whole, soft, burning. They bowed like flamesat the altar of his greed. Love was the first thing burned. Women were just collateral. Each woman…
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I once lived in the warmth of brown eyes, Believing they held all the light I needed. A gaze that wrapped my world in quiet surrender, Whispering promises, bending reason. But in a single moment, the color shifted, And what I knew unraveled into blue. Brown dissolved into a distant echo, While blue became the…
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When I turn away he finds me A hand to my jaw a look I can’t outrun He doesn’t move like he’s thinking he moves like breath like instinct like the step between desire and permission We don’t speak in answers we speak in breath in steps in touches that say stay And eyes that…
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As I’m writing this letter, I feel as if time with you isn’t enough. Your beautiful brown eyes haunt me and will continue to haunt me in every lifetime. You often wonder what goes on in my head, but it would drive you insane. Your smile is in every corner of my mind. Words that…
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2 of 3 Do not ask me for advice, I am without my love. Do not ask me how I live without. Ask me about the weather. For he is the beautiful storm, the cloud over my head, and why I pray for rain. It is a troubled feeling, longing for someone. Losing them in…
Wishful Thinking 