Tag Archives: love

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

Should

Poem, Writing, , , , , , , , , ,

I should be

working.

I should be

sleeping.

I should be

grading

or

cleaning

or

writing something

other than poems

for you.

I should be

focusing.

I should be

planning.

I should be

dreaming of a time

when I can breathe

without you.

Instead of should be,

I’m doing shouldn’t.

I’m writing endless

strings of sad sentiments

for a heart

who loves another.

Instead of should be,

I’m thinking of your

face,

hands,

eyes,

fingers sliding up my thigh,

gripping my flesh.

I’m imagining your

hot mouth

devouring my skin,

slicing through my

nerves like a

red hot poker.

I should be

touching him.

I should be

holding him.

I should be

loving him.

Instead I feel

your rough hands

glide along a body

that shivers

under your touch.

Instead,

your eyes burn

with a desire

that only comes in

my dreams.

– Read more from Patience

If the boy who draws let’s you look over his shoulder.
If the poet smiles and shows you her words.
If the girl who sings for the shower only,
hums a song in front of you.
Know that you’re no longer a person
but the air and dust that fills their lungs.
When the world perishes,
and all things cease to exist,
you’ll remain inside an ink stain,
a paint brush,
a song.
— Alaska Gold