Passion

Passion and stability are naturally separate entities
Passion is a fire that will burn a hole in itself

posted from Bloggeroid

Everything I Am Reminds Me of You

I'm terrified of reinventing myself
However, sometimes I'm not sure
that there's any other option.
Everything that I am
reminds me of you
and us
and what was
and everything that wasn't
and isn't
and cannot
Be.

Married

If I married for money
I'd have long moved away from here.

If I married for practicality,
I'd find a chiropractor.

If I married out of passion,
It would have come and gone.

If I married for love,
I'd be right where I am.

posted from Bloggeroid

Mustn't be Alone

It's quite contradictory, you see
I don't want to see
You because I love you
Because of the things you
do to me, you see, don't
you, why it is I don't,
I wont, be alone with you.
Oh, oh, to be alone with you
again.

I love you. I hate you.

I love you. I hate you.
I don't like dragging you in circles.
I want to hold onto you and push you away.
I want to rip you from my life and talk to you at every second.
No, I don't have a plan.
No, I don't know what to do or what i am going to do.

Reactionary

I am a reactionary.
I do what gets a rise out of you.

I touch you not because
I like touch
I touch you
because it makes you

Makes you happy
Makes you do things
Makes you do stupid things =)

ludicrously insane

so, this charade to which you have made reference...
i think you are positively insane.
"I am in fact. ludicrously insane"
good. good.
what i say is what i see and it is as i have thought it to be.
plans are falling into place nicely..... *mischievous laughter*

so dangerous, so lovely

so dangerous
so lovely
i want to touch you, hold you.
so dangerous
so lovely
i want to be the one next to you
i want to take your hand and know it'll be okay
so dangerous
so lovely
the things that are not allowed
should not be alone
you're so dangerous
because we're so lovely

A Glimpse Inside

Upon the realization of the personalness
and the personality
that I display via my poetry
and prose
I began to question myself
Am I prepared to share myself
[this side of myself]
With someone who knows me on a face to face level
Someone who I feel will take my every word
written (and left dangling between the lines)
and diagnose them to learn me
Not, I feel, to judge me
but to use the power, revealed by the eyes
to gain a glimpse into this soul of mine

The power of knowledge and wisdom
the implications of manipulation
the deepness of soul and thought
the residing of previous and ancient wisdom
the non-learned, but sharpenable awareness
--The look in the eyes.

Can you read my words and thus my thoughts?
Can you see through my attempt to be who I am?
Do you understand what it is I say?
- what it is I aim for?

Can you see
that I can see,
but that I do not see, myself?

A Sequence of (Honest) Thought

I don't know how I feel about you.
I miss you vehemently when I don't see you for a few days.
I don't know how to talk to you on the phone, which leaves a bit of an awkward taste in my mouth.
I still get butterflies when you kiss me.
As much as I want you and want you to touch me, I know better.
Being able to trust you is such an emotional thing for me.
I am in love with your blatant honesty, however, it does scare me a little
I thoroughly enjoy discussing religious issues with you (and always have)
Now, though, I am hesitant, afraid I will find something to turn my mind against you.
The day I can get my mind and heart on the same page will be astounding.
I dare not push either one, for I know what can happen.
I am not pushing myself, but nor am I holding myself back any longer.
I am not afraid. I am terrified.
I know better than to plan my future, but one must have an idea to follow.
I have no idea where I am going, but I am thinking of staying close to you.
You say you love me.
I don't love you.
You accept this.
I am exceptionally fond of you.
I am falling for you.
I am not afraid of you.
I am terrified. In a lovely sort of way.
I don't know what to think of you.
*and she rereads and smiles as the cursor blinks on an empty line*

Dark Star

I cared for you so much
sometimes still (more than I should)
I search for reasons why
and what captivated me so strongly

We were so different
so much the same
We didn't want the same things,
but we were in the same place

You are one of few
who I liked first
You caught me
and I let you into my mind

You didn't try to seduce me
it was all on my own
You didn't prod me along
it was only what I wanted

It was all so wrong
so beautifully right
It wouldn't last
thank you for not telling me

Such a short amount of time
so much time between us
Such an innocent passion
you allowed me cradle

I still don't know
how it all fell together
I am still glad
that it actually did

What it is I See

Sometimes I wish it were possible
to capture a photograph with words.
To capture what it is I see, in words.
I know not vocabulary so elegant.
This I suppose, is where the cliche comes in,
"A picture is worth a thousand words"
If only I could capture
in so few words
the elegant beauty I see
All that is in the world.

To make a blind man see
by way of hearing
the words of page read aloud...
If only I could capture
what it is that I see.

Tension

I have such a strong sexual tension in my body
I'm not horny
I don't want sex
I want to be touched & held by one I love
by Him.
I yearn for him.
I have not seen him
       touched him
       kissed him in one week
My body wants him
I can't think straight
I can't focus
My body is rigid and tense
One touch.
One touch is all I need and I would melt in his hands.
I would surrender myself to him
              and his advances
until I regained my right mind
Then I would stop him
       push away
              and
       turn over
Just to lay with him
     next to him
Be with him.

Beautiful Nakedness

I'm in love with the naked body.
It is so beautiful
raw flesh
soft fuzz
gracefully flowing curves
I want to touch
I want to caress
I want to be good
I want to be bad
I want to be wrong

I want to enjoy
I want to devour
I want to consume

Stupid Love Poems

I don't want to feel this way
even if it's
just so
I'll
stop writing
these
stupid love poems

Not My Lips

He always kisses my neck.
I suppose,
That is because I won't lend him my lips,
Even for a season
Or a one night stand.

I've Written Them All Now

Passion. Envy. Hatred.
I feel as though
all the emotions
I could want to express
I have already poured out
Out onto my paper.

Once you've written one,
You've written them all.
Say the same things over again,
Only this time switch the words.

"I love you."
"I hate you."
What really is the difference?
I am on your mind constantly either way.

Hate & Again

I hate him with a passion,
the only problem?
the passion is still there.

Mostly I wish he’d disappear,
Be gone from my life,
But then he’d torment others.

I wouldn’t have to see,
but just to know,
my friend has fallen.

I can’t leave her alone!
But what is there
for me to do?
---
This beast, this monster,
I dated him, I loved him,
I hate him.

How dare he even touch me;
Again.
Or my friend.