No I’m not a beautiful person, I’m sorry.
I’m not special, or full of light and laughter,
with a smile delicate as fine Venetian lace.I’m not the soul who lights up a room
whenever she walks in.
I carry a little darkness, a little storm cloud.
I’m rather plain, and that’s ok.
but my eyes are large,
they have seen beautiful things
and my ears are like a fox’s
they catch the whispers you dropI collect beautiful things
like a magpie, I’m lining myself
with lovely
to make up for the lack of my own.
Tag: spilled ink
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Come Here and Get to Know Me
You don’t know me.
To know me
you have to love me.
You can love me.
Come here and love me.
Allow this
introductionstartto be our blank canvas of
loveart.Let me
sharepaintlovebeautywithinacross the gentle rising of your chestwith the gentle
rhythmsstrokes of myhearttongue.And if you like you can unravel the stitching,
poking holes where you see fit,
desired effect of
lovepaint seeping through.We can share this
adorationartas we trickle it across the floors,
splashing it around with our
heartsfingers.We can fill the days with it,
blissful as it soaks into all the trees,
enchanted as the flowers turn an aquamarine,
inspired as the raccoons turn a vivid blue.
We can recolor the dirt and granular rocks
with a more desirable and inviting hue
so that both children and grown ups alike
will
dreamplay in sand boxes,enlivenedfascinated once again.If you’d like it swim in indigo oceans
and witness chrome red
passionslaughterwe can decorate every facet of this world
with our display of uninhibited
amourshades.Or if you’d prefer to create a more introspective
romanceart we can keep the tints within,as we discover the bronze and sapphire dyes of our limbs.
This is
loveart and this is an expression ofartlove.If you’d like to
explorecreate all you’ve ever dreamt to seecome here and
loveget to know me.by: me.
9.22.11
* This was the most enjoyable piece I’ve yet to write. I feel happy 🙂
-
this is what stabbing looks like
if you keep,
it all bottled up
inside your heart--so that the words
never, leave your teeth.eventually,
it will explodebut,
you will be alonebecause no one, likes a liar
that never seems to speak.you lie with your eyes,
you lie with your mouth.you lie with your eyes,
and never open your mouth.how can trust
ever exist,
with someone
that never,
speaks
their
heart?no one likes a liar,
that never says a word. -
ψεύτης
You like lying on my floor;
you like lying
with every breath.
Like it’s the carbon dioxide
to your oxygen.
And oxygen is what I’ve lacked
since the kiss we shared.
But you don’t know how to share completely.
Feelings, secrets, and nights
are cemented and imprisoned
in your memories.
I will forever remember you.
You, as you lye on my floor lying.
by: me.
8/10/11
