He loves me.
We call this our secret place.
our holy divine shining from the sky awkward and amusing
feeling in the nook of your shoulder
sacredness.
here, I am hidden from all those that want to destroy me.
you, my glorious prince and beautifully sun-kissed
with no white horse but still defend me.
and I want to live here. In this space.
Forget about all time and dimension,
hold unto a little sanctified beauty
and lose my religion
at the mere thought
of
you.
He loves me not.
We call it not seeing eye to eye.
A fragment of losing control and
too much stimuli. How raised voices become the ever present norm
Cold shoulders and turned backs become
the norm.
here, I am the bitch you kick in the corner
forgetting I snarl and bite back so who's to warn her
of sleepless nights and insomnia filled moons
Forget about everything and nothing
and lose myself in doom
at the mere thought
of
you.
He loves me.
We call this our beautiful beginning.
Another day marked for glorious ways
Unnerving our future telling. I am yours.
We celebrate with anniversaries and
Celebatory rings, golden with age and smothered
in perfumed bouquets.
here, I am the woman for the I to become we
Forget about backtracking and become history
and lose my doubts
at the mere thought
of
you.
He loves me not.
I pluck a petal out of pure defense
quick to tell a tale of what's to come
out of pure sixth sense
He loves me.
Another one bites the dust
I pour liquor in remembrance
Dead the relationship and its rotted crust.
He loves me not.
Sure the feeling is so real in the beginning
Where unicorns poop rainbows
and liars stand before you unknown and
carefully grinning.
He loves me.
Shit. My last petal. Swore that
it was going to last forever. Because no one believes
in fairy tales and slayed dragons
for fleas come into slept beds
enter the two legged dog with tail wagging
sad hopes and tearful lies
empty promises and lots of goodbyes.
Wasted years and
Wasted tears.
They told me there would be days like this
Love biting you on the ass
And welcoming you with a kiss.
He loves me not.
-b.r.rivera
#30in30
Poem 18 of 30, April 2012
We call this our secret place.
our holy divine shining from the sky awkward and amusing
feeling in the nook of your shoulder
sacredness.
here, I am hidden from all those that want to destroy me.
you, my glorious prince and beautifully sun-kissed
with no white horse but still defend me.
and I want to live here. In this space.
Forget about all time and dimension,
hold unto a little sanctified beauty
and lose my religion
at the mere thought
of
you.
He loves me not.
We call it not seeing eye to eye.
A fragment of losing control and
too much stimuli. How raised voices become the ever present norm
Cold shoulders and turned backs become
the norm.
here, I am the bitch you kick in the corner
forgetting I snarl and bite back so who's to warn her
of sleepless nights and insomnia filled moons
Forget about everything and nothingand lose myself in doom
at the mere thought
of
you.
He loves me.
We call this our beautiful beginning.
Another day marked for glorious ways
Unnerving our future telling. I am yours.
We celebrate with anniversaries and
Celebatory rings, golden with age and smothered
in perfumed bouquets.
here, I am the woman for the I to become we
Forget about backtracking and become history
and lose my doubts
at the mere thought
of
you.
He loves me not.
I pluck a petal out of pure defense
quick to tell a tale of what's to come
out of pure sixth sense
He loves me.
Another one bites the dust
I pour liquor in remembrance
Dead the relationship and its rotted crust.
He loves me not.
Sure the feeling is so real in the beginning
Where unicorns poop rainbows
and liars stand before you unknown and
carefully grinning.
He loves me.
Shit. My last petal. Swore that
it was going to last forever. Because no one believes
in fairy tales and slayed dragons
for fleas come into slept beds
enter the two legged dog with tail wagging
sad hopes and tearful lies
empty promises and lots of goodbyes.
Wasted years and
Wasted tears.
They told me there would be days like this
Love biting you on the ass
And welcoming you with a kiss.
He loves me not.
-b.r.rivera
#30in30
Poem 18 of 30, April 2012
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