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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna

7 years

Some days are better than others
I am not constantly haunted by your image
I can almost forget…
*your kiss*
*your fingertips on my skin*
*how much I loved you… still love you*
Everything!

I would have thought it would be easier by now
But memories have a funny way of creeping in
They are just lying around all over the place
Tripping or falling into most of them
I am left scraped, bruised, and embarassed with my wounded pride
I choke back these bittersweet tears

I am still here waiting 
Like the foolish girl I know I am
The romantic in me just won’t let it die
We had something all those years ago
Then you just left 
Leaving me to sit and wonder
waiting…

Most days are hard
Try as I might to forget
You stay there cemented in the back of my brain
down in the bottom of my heart
All these years have passed
and I just can’t find it within myself to let you go


(I still love you)
(7 years and counting)

poetry lost love 7 years and counting

The Need to get Something Off My Chest

I am growing tired
My patience has worn quite thin
I want to hide away from the world
Just for a little while

My mind is full
But my heart is empty
I feel… 
distant

I want to stay here
Locked away from the outside
I am safe here
Protected by all the doubts
that lay just beyond the door

I think I am having a fit of madness
The influence of others
begin to weigh me down
I don’t want to fall through the cracks
I may never be able to climb back out again

poetry confession is good for the soul my thoughts
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Mister, Asylum

Some days are harder then others…
When the shit is deep, and the it keeps piling on
Drowning, that is what I am doing
It drowns out my screams, and I am sinking deeper
“Hey man! Can I get some assistance here?”
“Hello?! Can anyone hear me?”
“Hey you there, can I get a little help?”
“Just a little help man, is all I am asking for.”

 Finally hit rock bottom.
They say the only way you can go is up
What they don’t understand is that you can go sideways too
Like a flat-line, there is no life here.
This is only one circle of my own personal hell.

“Anybody home?!”
“Hello? I know you’re there man”
“Look I was just looking for a safe place.”
“The crazy thing is I thought it would be here in your arms.”
“Hey, Mister…”

poetry something real working out the feels
anotherword

Anonymous asked:

How do you identify yourself?

anotherword answered:

the colors became soft all at once, unless i closed my eyes and missed their slowly turning over. which is exactly what i did. i don’t know what you call it when your body turns cold all over, all at once. It’s some kind of death, i’m sure. it’s like you forgot what a word meant. like it rolled back down the tip of your tongue. she was good with words, she treated them like lovers, and i treat them all like brick and mortar. i’m building a house, and states away she builds philosophies. what’s the worst thing you can do to someone who changes your life? never change. tonight i linger over terminated thought, this is where we are. in the morning i’ll build a church instead at its knotted end. i’ll say a prayer, then i’ll walk into the woods, to not know what to look for. and goddamn i’ll find it.

The Musician

Make love to me same way you play your guitar
Your nimble fingers running along my body
Caress and stroke, ‘til I scream and wail
Like when you are fine tuning
To create a harmonious agreement of our tangled bodies 
slow, fast, faster, faster…
The rhythm speeds along, and the melody just can’t keep up  
Building up to a most resounding crescendo
Climax!
Then it all fades away…
This session has come to its end
And this is our song
No one else shall hear

 

poetry musically inspired my love is real