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i want you.i think i might have pushed myself a bit too hard today, because i'm seeing stars and darkness, and the light is too bright, and i'm writing this while
i am on the bed tapping away, pretending i know what i'm saying, and waiting and wanting to see, hear, and taste again, and i'm hungry, and thirsty, but i don't want food, or anything to drink except for
what i'm always wanting, was always wanting ever since that first time when i went why not? and tasted the sweet poison and
you said you'd eat me up
i'm still waiting, and it's cold, in the fridge.
glow} so bright it almost blinds you,
but, the warmth inside is what makes
the snow in your eyes all worthwhile.
sunshine} you make my heart smile
like sunflower-patterned fields of
yellow and green rain
dotting each little strand of hopeful
warm wishes, and young
shadows holding hands for the first time.
cherry} sweet, overflowing, stains
left on fresh, new-found innocence
like that of soft, spring rains,
and promises made as we are
showered with strawberry kisses.
ocean} inviting, and waves playfully
calling, come closer, closer,
closer, and it seems like
happiness is when drowning
in sweet open waters can feel like heaven.
dark} and the skies are littered with
memories of you tonight.
make a wish, and put it out there,
as another one of the stars.
and i wish i could store them
all} in rainbow-stained glass jars so
they would never die out, and just
to fill in the cracks and scars in her heart,
with scattered memories of why
she made her way down the rainbow
in the first place; and s
the sun sets
and i wait and i dream
and i think of you
and you only
and i'm not
i really am not
and i'm forgetting
nothing is ever satisfactory.
and, if i won't be satisfied,
a full refund.
(or at least, just a bit
of my heart back.)
but that won't happen
and the nostalgic smells
through the open windows,
and i'm imagining
(and time never co-operates)
i spend my days
eating watermelon words
and drenched in daydreams,
and i see the world
with blurred faces,
and every person i see
(it keeps me smiling)
tires screech outside and
i'm scared i won't have enough
time, but i need more
with you, because
i haven't had enough of
take my breath
and my soul and my everything away again,
i'm running out of
koishigaru.my eyesight is deteriorating
like stepped on leaves,
wet and crunched up
after heavy rain, and
the little girl who picked it up
and stored it in a jar,
on the television, and just a little far away,
can't be seen anymore,
because everything is a blur
and my eyes ache
because it misses the way they helped her see the world.
even though just the thought
of you calling my name,
and waiting for me to reply
just murders any appetite i had left,
i'm the one who's waiting now,
and i feel like i'll never stop and you'll never come and i
eat too much junk food
and my stomach aches
because the door is closed, and the right time is not yet,
and it misses the way the light breeze,
along with slight shallow breaths, and soft wavering touches
would send shivers down her spine.
open windows, and black curtains that don't fly
anymore and i refresh, and click, and call
and wait to hear
but i'm not refreshed,
and nothing's clicking right,
and i rarely ever called out your name,
is when he calls you beautiful
in a way that you
have no choice but to believe it.
and my cat purrs softly as i stroke her
warm, calico fur; while i smile because
i remember what love and softness feels like.
like sitting on a damp bench,
in a deserted playground, with a
jacket over our heads.
to keep us dry from the rain,
which turns your hands red,
and makes my heart
smile, the way you did
when the sun would sometimes
be a bright, hope
and light up a future,
with forgetting the darker colours
soft tulips don't like,
and don't lie, just laugh,
and maybe that was just a dream
and even though i keep falling,
and bruising my knees,
and closing off my heart
in pure, red, anger,
like the rain and you, but.
i love you,
when i am walking alone
in a long corridor, and calling
and i'm faced with echoes, but
the voice is only, always mine, and
then, always; now,
waking up from this, i might become an insomn
between the lines.sometimes, he reads her so well, she is shocked.
and feels like an open book, with no page numbers, yet, someone knows.
someone knows what order she has to be read in.
and it's almost like you can read my mind.
sometimes, her pages fly open, and she willingly
leaves herself that way; read me, read each and every word.
and then he scrunches up his nose,
and pushes the book away - slightly - but away,
while smiling, kindly, but, judging
and, she turns her pages over, with the sound of a tear.
and it's almost like i have to start using a different font;
or scratch out some words; or maybe, invisible ink.
sometimes, she writes new words in, and she shows him, and he reads,
and he answers, but he talks of
a different world, of different pages, and maybe even,
in a different language.
and it's almost like you had been reading the page upside-down.
and sometimes, she just doesn't know
how long she wants to stay on this same old,
and maybe then, when, fi
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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