Define my existence,
My torn paper edges,
With your rough-soft kisses,
Lips and stubble,
Hands woven in my
Tumbled hair,
On my back,
Held tight, tighter,
Like I finally matter.
Clear green eyes,
Staring into mine
Then tight shut,
Mouths connect,
As one, again, again.
Laughter lines,
Defined, then faded,
Like aged newspaper,
Worn print,
Barely legible.
Pink-flushed cheeks,
Bloom of youth,
Spike in your temperature,
Heart-beat wild,
Thudding out the rhythm,
Bodies follow, pulling closer,
Hands between thighs,
All over,
Each curve, shape,
Every hidden place.
I become real,
In full colour,
3D and high-definition.
Friends.
Lovers.
More-or-less.
You have more,
I'll end up with what's left.
Alone again,
Flat,
Blurred,
In grey-scale.
Defined as not good enough,
Fail.
How did you like this story?
Your feedback helps Irrational_Kimmi understand what's working
@Irrational_Kimmi
We're all mad here... All work is mine unless otherwise stated. ~ Instagram: @irrational_kimmi ~ Kik: irrational_kimmi #projecthumanity
Similar Stories
Comments & Feedback (6)
@Stablish thank you! Err, sorry about being so depressing all the time! I actually always feel better about things once I've written about them βΊ
@Irrational_Kimmi I know exactly how you feel, don't worry, I try not to read to much into stuff on a personal level. I just try to take it for poetry. π
Want to join the conversation? Sign in to leave a comment.