Posts tagged poetry
Posts tagged poetry
once my poems
threw out light
and warmth
the fascination
stopped.
my fascination
with light
and warmth
threw out
more poems.
more poems,
more light.
(Source: nearlyayearofmagic)
drunken fingers
stumbling into secret
places
little giggles
kissing down thighs
sucking up insides
of arms
hiking through
hair
nuzzling through
breath.
(Source: nearlyayearofmagic)
i am not
gone.
i have been
happy-making
with the happiest-making
girl
i have ever met.
happy-making is waking up
every morning
to her kisses
to her hand tangled in mine
(when she’s not pushing me
off the bed,
that is)
to her legs
brushing me.
happy-making is not
having to shave
my legs
every
day.
happy-making is
being who i am
for me
because
she loves me
for every
thing
i could ever
hope to be.
(Source: nearlyayearofmagic)
this process
working you out of
my system,
working me back in,
working on
being
happy
has finally paid off.
i learned
how to be
happy
again.
the tiny rush of fingers
curled against mine,
the coolslickpress of skin
burrowed into my back
the burst of joy, wriggling fingers
into sides
(and inside)
the press of smiles against lips
just touching
the press of tongues
learning each other
through movements
and words
(more than you ever
bothered to know
about me
at
all)
the sheer joy of seeing
yourself
through her eyes.
the purity of knowing
you are liked
for just
who
you
are.
happiness is not a person,
or not only,
but tiny spiky glinting smirking laughing
smiling laughing learning touching holding
sleeping cuddling feeling thinking asking
listening comforting healing teasing
knowing wondering sharing wanting
ginger girl
is contributing to mine
in a way I have always hoped
someone would.
at last I am happy
and at last i
am free.
i thought i needed you
to remake me,
help me become
everything i thought i’d lost
in the process of becoming
yours;
the tiny girlchild curled up
inside what i’d never hoped to become,
the seed of truth buried
inside an entire life
of hiding, of comfort,
of barely-there fear.
i thought i needed you.
when really, i needed me.
(Source: nearlyayearofmagic)
updated what this blog is about.
what began as a chronicle
of me fighting back, fighting
to keep something i never
REALLY wanted, fighting to find
what that near-year was,
has turned into a project
of happiness
instead of despair.
of learning to grow with
someone as opposed to growing
near them. learning how
to finally
FINALLY
be happy
again.
welcome to the new
year of magic.
(Source: nearlyayearofmagic)
there is a slight sheen
over the vacancy behind her eyes
the mere irridescence of words
she can’t quite get out of
her own mind, the tiny feelers
seeking out nonsense and thoughts
as though pulling them from other
peoples’ minds
will make them her own.
secrets layered over the thin
veil of pink shimmers under the
small blue swell of love, courage
the green of battle red gearing up
to slide low under the tar of failure,
anxiety,
fear.
the ever-shifting shade of desire,
watching the slow burn of lust
fade against dying embers of
“just not that into you.”
the joy, bursting red like first
summer’s day popsicle melting
crunching under teeth, the tiny ferrets
of gleeful blue leaping over
sunbeam white, laughter ringing
colors as cool blades meet ticklish toes,
and she nearly smiles.
they shimmer there, just out of reach,
thinking thoughts so often forgotten,
things she will always remember,
things they will always forget.
the slight, ever-changing tip of
happiness, the elusive
redbluepurpleoroangeTHEREgone
the tiny color she can never
quite get. the mind tips and turns
brief elation to quiet fear.
(Source: nearlyayearofmagic)
i like to think
we have our own
secret way
of speaking.
the soft little catches
in the throat, the
bare whisper of breath
seeping in,
gasping out.
the tiny glint when
you raise your eyebrow,
the lidded glaze over
of iridescent butterfly-wing
eyes the color of surf
waves soft like sunrise
clear spring skies
and me
the clouds over the color
dulling the senses
in the best possible ways.
looking for shapes
in the clouds (the you/me
paradox of how well
those two go together)
the set of teeth in
flesh soft enough to
nip at skin
the tiny press
of fingertips
against hardness of
space, miles
apart.
the lingering ache
of sensation, drinking in
movements, bare expanses
of skin too far away
for exploration,
the downy brush of
sweet undersides of curves.
tongue peeking
between teeth, tracing
soft ridges against the roof
of the mouth, wishing
it were the other,
coy smile peering out
against the glint, that
tiny question, answered,
always, in the affirmative.
this is the way
we speak
miles apart.
(Source: nearlyayearofmagic)
been gone for a while.
learning to be
happy.
because i finally found
the passion
to write about
happiness.
(Source: nearlyayearofmagic)
I miss…
the way our curves fit together,
the way your hand already feels
like it’s always been there,
the stubble of our legs,
the soft place just at the juncture
of jaw and ear,
the short strands of hair in my
fingers,
the laughing meeting of mouths,
the casual hello kiss,
the longing goodbye.
i like the way
i hear you smile on the phone,
see your face in my head,
hear your expressions through
the miles.
the more i learn,
the more i like.
(Source: nearlyayearofmagic)