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Why do I complain so much? My life is pretty good.
Everything is as it is, as it shall be, as it should.
I don't really have a way with words, my poems have no meaning.
People seem to think they're good, but inside I'm secretly screaming.
I love her, she loves me, is there anything that could go wrong?
Finally, there's a mutual love, soft , but binding and strong.
We hardly ever see each other, transportation is a must.
But she's someone I think a relationship can work with, she's someone I can trust.
All the other people I love, they're taken and they're blinded.
If they had seen the light beforehand, then maybe I wouldn'tve minded.
But things have changed, I'm different now, no need to push and shove.
I'm done with impressing other people, because now I'm just in love.
You're one of the cutest things, that I've ever really seen, you know.
But alas, *gasp*, you're in love with somebody else, oh no.
He's cooler, he's smarter, he's funnier than me.
I'm a twig (maybe a branch), but he's a whole tree.
But I love you more. . . don't I?
Ok, maybe I don't.
But I'll still love you, even if he won't.
I wanted to be special for you, but with him there, I cannot.
The pain is getting unbearable. (It feels like I've been shot.)
I'm crazy, I'm weird. (I know that.)
I don't deserve to be your friend.
Once again, it's over. Finito. Finished.
Profound dreams have gone away.
Once I was happy, but not today.
The girl I love, doesn't love me back.
(But nobody seems to care about that.)
Love is all around, it's plain to see.
'There is someone for everyone', but not for me.
I sit here alone, tears flowing free.
(Oh, how I wish things were how they could be.)
I'm meant to be alone, I'm aware of that.
I'm sick of all the kisses, the hugs and the pats.
I've written too many poems about being alone,
And too many poems about love, quick and full-blown.
This one isn't any different, my heart is still broken.
The words 'I love you' have been whispered, and spoken.
Yet I still get nothing from you. (Am I a ghost?)
Don't you realise you're the one that matters most?
Well that's it, I'm ending it, it looks like I've blown it.
If you really loved me. . .
. . . You could've at least shown it.
pray into my collarbone
let your snake tongue slither
with the syllables.
i wish for soft-chested nights,
and the trickle of champagne down crystal glass.
poppy-lips, lull me to sleep,
nurse my coiling tongue with yours;
tap my scalp like a silent drum,
and wind my hair in between your fingers
like broken guitar strings.
(serenade me with the buzz of pollen in your kiss.)
a hospital bird with soot in her lungsshe slept through a car crash
that almost killed her,
through whitewhite walls
where her lover dies
nobody thought she'd make it
but she woke up a few months later
with flowers in her hair
and ash in her airway
trying to remember how to start all over
but forgetting to remember how to live.
fall slipped from her open eyes
and winter crawled in for a long hibernation
to her the clouds looked sick
and pale like they might
let everything inside them out,
but she opened up wide instead,
spilling blood where there was none to be spilled.
her heart slipped down the street
and with unsteady hands
she stitched in a bird and cut off its wings.
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More