manuscriptx
New Member
******** Warning, the content may not be suitable for younger readers.*************
What is love? What is life? What is the meaning of all of this? Nothing I can see clearly, one breath at a time. The red corpuscles flow, the white mist sprinkles down, but I still don't know. One touch and one breathe. I know beauty by red lipstick, pink nipples, and a sunny blue sky after the rainstorm. I know beauty in what I see, far less often than I deserve to. I'm embarrassed. I know there's not a soul around, but looking over my shoulder is the past I can't run away from. Hindering progressions, they hinder my soul from lifting upward, basking in the glow of faith. I kept myself down. I left her be. It's disappointing, I know but I'd never be able to forgive myself, even if the wrong things were right. I find it all too easy to see clearly when it is darkness that surrounds me. I'm afraid to know.
I'm afraid to see the light. There's nothing left for me there, and no one will give me what I came for. I don't need fake tears. I don't need your pity or approval. All I need is love. To love her, comfort her and make her feel that I am the only one in the world who could protect her that way.
I've said this all before, so you know where I'm coming from. Prose Poetry? I think not. It comes from within, therefore it ain't plainly spoken, how could it? It's not easy to describe my feelings.
Who are they, the accomplished ones? The ones who tell me right from wrong, the ones I want to smack back. They're not experienced. They're just lucky. Give me an opportunity I say, and watch me run tire treads all over you. The quicksand is deep and muddy with intent, where salt is separated and looked upon in true virtue. On a clear day I can see it, and it is that that fears me the most.
What is love? What is life? What is the meaning of all of this? Nothing I can see clearly, one breath at a time. The red corpuscles flow, the white mist sprinkles down, but I still don't know. One touch and one breathe. I know beauty by red lipstick, pink nipples, and a sunny blue sky after the rainstorm. I know beauty in what I see, far less often than I deserve to. I'm embarrassed. I know there's not a soul around, but looking over my shoulder is the past I can't run away from. Hindering progressions, they hinder my soul from lifting upward, basking in the glow of faith. I kept myself down. I left her be. It's disappointing, I know but I'd never be able to forgive myself, even if the wrong things were right. I find it all too easy to see clearly when it is darkness that surrounds me. I'm afraid to know.
I'm afraid to see the light. There's nothing left for me there, and no one will give me what I came for. I don't need fake tears. I don't need your pity or approval. All I need is love. To love her, comfort her and make her feel that I am the only one in the world who could protect her that way.
I've said this all before, so you know where I'm coming from. Prose Poetry? I think not. It comes from within, therefore it ain't plainly spoken, how could it? It's not easy to describe my feelings.
Who are they, the accomplished ones? The ones who tell me right from wrong, the ones I want to smack back. They're not experienced. They're just lucky. Give me an opportunity I say, and watch me run tire treads all over you. The quicksand is deep and muddy with intent, where salt is separated and looked upon in true virtue. On a clear day I can see it, and it is that that fears me the most.