Softer hands don’t necessarily mean softer lovers.
Herkes dertli,paylaşıyor. Güzel yapıyor,paylaşın. Ama neden kimse düzeltmek istemiyor. Neden savaşmak istemiyor? 2 dakika geriye bakıp düşünmek,ağlamak istemiyor. Her zaman zoru seçenler neden kaçıyor? Neden anlatıyor da savaşımıyor,aynaya geçip kendiyle boğuşmuyor? Düşünmüyor,kendini anâ ve karanlığa bırakmıyor. Neden?
She’s dancing on your feet
With our song on repeat
She painted every role of us
She’s taking off her clothes
In the bed you kept me warm
Heard she’s everything I never was
No, I’m not her, no
Never gonna move like her, move like
I’m not her, no
Never gonna look like her, be like
I’m not her
I’m not her, no
At least that’s what I’ve heard
is there truth
between the lines
beneath the dusty floorboards
within the cracks on the wall?
why do I always feel like drowning
on the second storey?
how much of my life has been
filtered between these four walls?
why do I feel like I am stealing secrets
from my childhood home
as if they do not belong to me
as if they were not written by my hand
Hair like cherry blossom or bubblegum,
wavy, wild, bouncing up and down
Running around, a bubble of fun,
To her my heart is bound
Melted milk chocolate eyes
warm and comforting and dark,
Shivering and shaking, I can’t hide,
those eyes leave a permanent mark
setting my heart on fire
accompanied by a mischievous smile,
Those lips…killing me with desire
for a kiss that could drive me wild
Imagine how she tastes,
like strawberry ice cream, or maybe vanilla
A sugar rush I anticipate,
In my mind, thoughts of her
dance. What I’d give for a light
brush against her skin
slowing down the passage of time,
Warm, a gentle glow inviting me in
She’s so pretty, so goddamn pretty.
Pretty like a field full of pink roses ,
The way her body flows makes me dizzy,
Looking at her all I know is
how I’d love to call her my own
Cotton candy lips, mine to kiss
Beautiful body, mine to hold alone
Gentle giggles, mine to miss
when we’re apart. Dreams, sublime,
my nights with her as my lover,
thoughts of her fill my mind
my beautiful Summer
I want to lay with someone
Holding me tight
Keeping me warm
I want to feel my heart racing
Though our shirts
I want the comfort of love
I want you
together like flowers.
the ones i taped onto the
letters never sent.
why cant we be happy
s e p a r a t e
you are a stormy breeze
on a hot summer day.
i want to dance with you.
you make flowers bloom
grass grows green again.
peace. it’s all i ever wanted.
you are love(d).
WHAT IS LOVE?
My hand has left so many poems unfinished
So many words unsaid
So many secrets lie open , outstretched
In people I believed deserved my trust
I don’t have a clue about love
I guess love is what everyone makes of it
From thier own story
It’s one universal word
And it has a trillion defination
This incomplete poem is love
My scream for comfort is love
The food made by my mother is love
I am left with a box of love
From so many people
That now I don’t know what to
Make out of it.
left behind girls wear their hair in braids tied with ribbons
of violet velvet; freckles many, tears plenty, and their men like villains
who live to see their purple tears fall. they have a patient complexity
that only left behind girls do, because they accept that chemistry
is never enough to keep their sweet loves close and powdered
cheeks, so pale from the moonlight, dry and painted blue.
is it selfish of me
that you haven’t made into heaven
because I know
I could never meet you there?
-to lose a good lover
Привет Андрей! Документальный фильм про цирк и его обитателей.
Blookenine - 536
take me to heaven | víctor m. alonso