At 8: 20 am, i get into the shower And remember the last time you were in it Almond milk, pine sap, sputtering hot and weeping We didn't dream that night and After you left i lay on the kitchen floor, Repeating myself. During the day i sell the same wine over and over: Tobacco leaf, dry leaves, black cherry There is one here that is a kiss, a second I can't describe wine as a cul-de-sac And your button up, so i say “strawberry. ” I flew to new york and The weather felt like my blood, Sticking to your neck We spent the weekend in the country Entangled, frightened, drinking cider Spilling it out through our sharpening teeth: Dogs barking at a few falling leaves. When i came home i scratched off my skin- i turn cold daily. There's not much to eat and You would tell me that There isn't enough cheese in my fridge, And it's the wrong kind, And why are you looking at me like that? I come to you each night in your little plastic bed Breathing small seeds Pocketing light. (you don't know. you are asleep) How do you do it, keeping so warm? Dear, i can't stop drawing the moon Because i keep hoping i'll see you in it.
mouth.
Author: Sylvia Weld
0
Date: 06/04/2020
№ 1207858
I kissed your virgin Mouth
================================= I kissed your virgin mouth Blood came through veins As river meeting ocean Leaving behind delta in Memorial poetry that Clothed your body
Penultimate breaths Touch golden rays of fire Burn words floating on lips A voice whispers the last prayer On the mortal barren existence Enveloping warm blood enters in an ear
Right. Thats who i am. Who ill always be. Just do me a favor and lock away the key But like usual I forgot something else again Worthless trophy locked away on this dusty shelf Used to the darkness And the shadows of doubt
Scattered pieces lie about Bleed me dry Tear me apart Do it correctly, inside out
But even with that dusty key I would still be stuck here it seems Too afraid of what lies beyond Paper thin door Memmories never vanquished Never even gone
They play with my concious Twist and pull those strings Making me flinch and panic yet again The wounds run deep Your words become mine Oh dont worry, my demons are pleased Theyre having a great time
The scars? Forget them not. The stitches were better used on others The ones not forgot. But hey, thats ok. I never wanted them anyway. Newly healed hurts more to break, Than the skin always broken anyway.
I remember all those times That I opened my mouth To say something Whether it be a random observation A helpful comment Or a joke Only to be interrupted By you Saying the very words That were frozen on my tongue
I still wonder if it means anything
mouth.
Author: Jenni
0
Date: 30/03/2020
№ 1194038
Open your mouth
I'm new to this, nowhere goin, I open my mouth but words ain't flowing, At the girl that needs to know I love her so, and can't let go. To the poems, where I'm goin, Wherever you're goin, I'll be stowin Away in your suitcase in all of your clothes Tucked really deep, so noone knows
I'll tell you about something that is rotten to the core. When outside of church, some preachers cuss like sailors. My friend saw some of these preachers who like to cuss. They should be ashamed, preachers are supposed to set an example for the rest of us. When they cuss, they anger God because it's like slapping him in the face. Morality is not their strong point, what they're doing is truly a disgrace. Out of all of the people in the world, preachers are the ones who should never swear. Those preachers are not God fearing people and it is just too much for me to bear. This makes me angry and Jehovah God and I are both filled with disgust. It proves that the world is lost when we see preachers who we can't trust.
