I will argue with you.
We will shout, scream, take
water, breathe, shake, wail, snot, cry
and go again a second time.
And we will be so alive
because we will have tried.
On My ShoulderIf they need me
they'll find me
in love with you
finding your hair on
my shoulder at work or
hearing your voice
in the corridor
If you need me
you'll find me
you know I'm just waiting
for you to be home
in love with me
reading my poems
and listening to my bad jokes
What more could we ask for
EdgeWhen you open your door
it’s like we’re already on your balcony,
My body stammers like we’re
Hanging off the edge,
Like crumbling concrete is
all that holds us up.
But you’re just silent like sunlight
and sipping on skyline,
Calm as cars rolling round the summer of the city,
And your hair is glowing with the sweetness
of half past three
and I’m only shaken with the feeling
of how much you love me
and only feeling hopeless
trying to brave telling you
- just as often as I feel it -
just how much that I love you
but I just know that you can tell
in the moments that we meet or
on the quiet of the balcony or
when I mumble in my sleep
and I know that I still panic
with a fear like falling fast
but when you kiss me day or night
the fear falls to the past.
WalksWe walk down the river
in the cold in the dark
with a quiet
spark in our step and a
wandering in our eyes,
Skies overcast we're throwing looks
at each other,
And I'm beside myself with feelings when you
sniff the air or breathe deep in the lift,
I'm home away from home
the moment we kiss,
And the second that you're gone
is the minute that you're missed.
FathomIf I could fathom your thoughts,
Sway the mood,
Ride a crest the best half-step
closer I've taken in awhile,
Roll the ripples into waves
of misbehaving tonight, then
seagull witnesses would whistle
under wonderful moonlight.
MeanderYou shoot a look back at me, and
my thoughts meander round
The way your moulded shoulders
slow roll, all low
slung, swung confident
as you can manage,
Your hiding hands trembling like
you feel you've lost your way,
And the quiet in your eyes
of the things you dare not say.
Strangers on TrainsThe train is a cradle,
The engine a lullaby,
The people inside unlikely dreams
in beams of sun
that come and go, and
the squeal of brakes, released
Poem for youYou have a voice
like slipping out of the driveway
late at night,
And hands tiny like twisting the key in the lock
smooth and slow
There's a a surf-roll wave of change in the room
When you pull a smile, it is like
watching the tide slide out
and the sun fall down,
I can hear only our breathing
and I'm shaken but bold
I see nothing but us as we're getting old.
Nike of SamothraceLike in old Greek stories
I can see Victory hanging
one winged over us,
Battered and broken and
along the way
she lost her head
But she's there all the same,
Standing still with robes in full motion
and flowing like the moonlight moves over
cars slipping out of town,
Gliding legs, marble smooth
and not making a sound,
And cold and cracked the Angel
withstands unsteady ground.
Some NightsI still whirl the circles
some nights, and spin
fired rings round Tartarus,
See suffering giants of men
Tears frozen to hot faces,
Pole-axed by paradox
and shuddering many levels lower
than the Hindu mountain make-believe
I'd promised myself we could achieve.
I'm still wreathed in you
some nights, and feel
the peppered smoke around my head,
See myself tiny
in the little hammock-curve of shoulders
watching the flicker of thoughts across
your gentle face,
This was once the way
I could escape that place.
And then comes the morning
and I am born again
and in me it began
and in me it ends.
glass bones and paper skinShe had always been a smidgen short
of something whole and he was never
broken to begin with.
Except sometimes they sort of were
entirely, irreparably, miserably, broken.
Where are you going?
Where are you going, where I can't follow?
And that, she finds for all of her brilliance and prodigal logic,
is something she couldn't answer.
It sort of scares her, a little,
when she thinks about it at night.
Especially when there's no one to see her,
and the only thing that touches her
is the inky darkness of her room.
Other things scare her too.
The thought of her name sprawled across a grave,
broken beyond repair. Yet, he is her line to humanity;
His smiles are her air.
He is all essence.
Yet, he bothers her in a way she didn't know
she could be bothered. They were oil and water;
open but couldn't fit.
She wonders if that's how he felt about it.
He still is everything, prodding at her mind.
He will always be everything.
Because he reminds her.
He reminds her of who she was before she was
Your parents are artistsI've been looking for the best artist in the world, someone to help me express what you make me feel...
But my life goes like always, you know, covered of darkness and without going through something to break the monotony.
The sky color reminds me of her eyes, her deep sad eyes, her long and sensuous fingers, her warm tongue of exquisite flavor, her tenderness masquerading as loneliness and melancholy...
It becomes a great joy when falling on your psychotic world, when sink into your hugs and kisses, it becomes an immense joy.
In this way, loneliness, despair and hate lead you to madness.
A man devastated by the tragedy, that feels empty inside, disbelieved and immune to pain.
The hate blurs the feelings, annihilates the reasoning...
I sigh deeply, because I also I become a victim of your beautiful curse.
And in the sweet mornings of the world, your gaze is lost on the path that leads to my death.
That is why I walk with my head down, because that beauty is compared with you, and becau
Skies over San AngeloThere is something about you
I've never been able to capture in word or form;
an alluring resonance in the sadness
hidden behind your piercing blue eyes,
some immeasurable substance
caught in the dulcimer tune of your voice,
that tugs on my heartstrings
like a sea-eyed starlet pruning her melody from a harp:
A white velvet hurricane in a black satin dress
with hammers for hands and a stained glass smile,
the kind of beauty the moonlight clings to
and follows around at night;
Calypso's golden daughter-
a silver dagger in place of her tongue
and a smile pieced together from a leftover sunrise;
A sidewalk flower with the might of an oak
the tender heart of a lamb,
and all the bewildering mystery of Minerva..
The kind of Woman you see standing next to the ocean
and wonder which of them is more vast.
You once kissed me on my temple
and five years later I still swoon at the thought-
lost in the memory of silken tendrils of hair
tickling the skin of my cheek,
and the sweet smelling breeze you
Jeff The Killer x Bullied! Chubby! Reader!(All in Jeffery's POV
Jeff: DONT CALL ME THAT!!)
Well they encourage your complete cooperation
Send you roses when they think you need to smile
I can't control myself because I don't know how
And they love me for it honestly I'll be here for a while
I was sitting in the tree close to (Y/N) window. I was only cheeking on her to see if anyone else was bulling her lately, and by what i can see she's crying. I silently make my way into her room, without her noticing of course. I hear her mumbling something but i cant quite hear her ill have to get closer. I slid along the walls making my way to the bed where she is sitting, when i believe i am close enough i drop to the floor and slip myself under her bed. i listen carefully to what she is saying.
"Maybe a should go die?.... No, i wouldn't be able to do something like that."
I sigh in relief. Shes silent for a bit. Until i start to her little sniffles. That soon break down into complete sobs.
The ConstantEveryone pretend to be kind to others, they speak of peace and love, they wish you the best, when in fact, in the depths of their hearts, they remain insidious.
There are always variables, things that may you like it or not, but I'm here today to tell you about the only constant I know: you.
What I am sure in this life, is that I did not come to this place just to see you, as our meeting was a happy coincidence, but to achieve a dream that will put us away from life itself, to achieve a life after death at your side.
What I am sure in this life, is that the blindness in your eyes can't last forever, you will have to open them one day and realize that in your whole life, I've been at your side.
What I am sure in this life, is that you should not worry, because once we dream together, not even your demons will find us.
What I am sure in this life, is that I can continue with my empty heart, or a life full of your love.
What I am sure in this life, is that being by your side the sky has a