Monday, October 17, 2011

Bare Your Soul #1

When I looked into her crystal, glassy, brown eyes, I saw every onuce of pain. I was looking into her soul. I don’t know what, how, when or why, but I saw everything. She’s vulnerable-she keeps stitching herself close, but they snap open every time. How she crosses her arms, how she looks else-where, shunning your eyes, how she hesitates to speak-that’s her hiding in her shell. Yet here she is now, climbing out of her shell, shedding off the exterior skin, glassy eyes and all, bare naked. I think she’s inviting me into her soul. I think she wants me to explore every aching bone and heal them. I think she wants me to paint that gorgeous rosy-pink color onto her canvas-cheeks.
She needs me.
She’s scared that I’ll hurt her. I hate knowing that she thinks that. I could love her. Love her like no other. Make her smile, laugh and appreciate life once again. She’s scared I’m just like the others. Lord knows, I’m not. Ever since I saw her-bronze, sun-kissed skin, plump, cherry lips, brown-sugar eyes, a smile that could bring world peace and flowing, black, glistening hair, I knew I could love her-I would love her. And she knew that when I saw her. And now she knows she could love me.

Friday, October 14, 2011

Only When It's Midnight.

I can feel the silk,
'Can taste your cotton candy lips,
See the candles glimmer throughout the room,
'Can smell the musk and roses,
Hear the faint music of our favorite band,
It just hit midnight-our favorite time,
It's a brand new day to start it all again,
My baby angel,
My cutthroat diamond,
I'm your baby-doll,
Cuddle with me,
I'll give you sweet dreams.

You feel my skin,
Can taste the cigarettes,
See the scars stretched upon my body,
You can smell the musk and roses,
Hear our favorite band,
It's midnight,
Lets start all over,
Baby angel,
Cutthroat diamond,
Come grab your baby-doll,
Cuddle with her,
She'll give you sweet dreams.

Wondering, Wishing, Wanting…

Blues, pinks, scarlets and emeralds glimmer above my head
In the darkness that envelopes the emptiness of the four, taunting walls I can’t seem to elude from,
I lay on the fresh lavender and lilies taking in the scent,
Parsing the smell savoring it bit by bit,
I look up into the lights thinking there’s a no better sight,
For I haven’t gotten the oppurinty to explore anything beyond the place I call home,
I strech my head to the crystal glass,
The moon as high as the most graceful bird can fly,
Wondering, wishing and wanting to look at the view from another region where thrills,
Beauty and enthused turmoil occur,
Wondering, wishing, wanting…