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Literature Text
Your fingertips
Are like feathers
Tickling my skin.
I cock my head
Inviting you closer,
For a dandelion kiss.
Your lips are soft while teeth scrape
Like rose buds
On a stem with thorns.
You hair's a stream,
Soft and lazy,
But with a mind of it's own.
It brushes against my chin
As you lightly nibble
My collarbone.
A moan escapes my throat
As you push me down,
Holding me against your chest.
Your shimmering, emerald eyes
Look to me for approval
As your breath warms my cheeks.
A smile graces your lips,
Your quirky, lovable smile
That I love so much.
Are like feathers
Tickling my skin.
I cock my head
Inviting you closer,
For a dandelion kiss.
Your lips are soft while teeth scrape
Like rose buds
On a stem with thorns.
You hair's a stream,
Soft and lazy,
But with a mind of it's own.
It brushes against my chin
As you lightly nibble
My collarbone.
A moan escapes my throat
As you push me down,
Holding me against your chest.
Your shimmering, emerald eyes
Look to me for approval
As your breath warms my cheeks.
A smile graces your lips,
Your quirky, lovable smile
That I love so much.
Literature
The Truths
When you look at me, what do you see?
Seeing that smile, could you guess what I hold back?
Hearing that laugh, could you sense the pain?
When we talk, can you tell that I leave so much out?
When I say I am fine,do you know what is behind that?
Is it just me, or do you miss alot?
When you really look at me , Do you really see me?
Do you even know that there is so much you don't see?
I can tell you what you see
A girl that isn't really there anymore
A hollow shell
That if you were to put under pressure
Would be gone in an instant
That is why she has so much protections
Why there is alway people around her
OF course you don'
Literature
Just listen
I write when I am sad.
But then again, I write when I feel good.
I write because it is the only way
I can tell you how I feel.
I write knowing you will never see it
I suppose that is for the best.
I write about how much I cared
And now how much I don't.
I write because it makes me acknowledge my feelings
The ones I hide from everyone else
I write to tell strangers how I feel
Hoping they won't judge me
I write for myself
And sometimes for my peers
I write so I know I'm alive
With every word my senses come to life
I write so I can read what I've made
Every word stings, one more than the next
I write to have som
Literature
Don't let her whisper your name.
I would be lying if I said I forgot.
Lying, if I said I don't want to feel it again.
It's irresistible.
It's uncontrollable.
It's almost unexplainable.
It's our dance.
I never had to teach.
She never needed to learn.
The synchrony was always perfect.
From the first second to the last one.
Every single time.
A simple touch,
a simple breath,
a simple desire,
and the world would explode.
So we were in a universe apart.
Dancing, an unknown song.
We never rehearsed it, it never went wrong.
It's just like I said.
The synchrony was always perfect.
As if we could feel each other.
As if we were created for each other.
Do you beli
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I'm just in one of those moods... you know? A writeasmuttyfluffyorworseshortstory mood. 
© 2011 - 2024 Collateral-Damage666
Comments13
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very passionate! love it!