I love writing about cigarettes,
but I don't smoke them.
The way they look in human hands,
between pale, slender fingers,
held loosely or quite tight,
focused or mind fading towards distant thoughts.
A reminder to ease your rapid day,
something to make the buzz go away,
something to fill up a longing emptiness.
What might it be for today?
I so wonder,
but I can see something poetic,
just as how the smoke trails upwards
and fades to nothingness
only to return again
with the touch of your lips.
The essence is there
as the fire burns,
but it cannot be relit again.
Burn ever so brightly,
ashes to ashes it fals again,
the flame reminds me
th
I’ve noticed she lives in between the pages of her favourite books,
lost in a series of ink and secured through the pages.
I can read the secrets of her heart
and soul inside the constellations of a fantasy world.
All she does is drink tea and writes down absolutely every story idea in her head.
She’s got more pens than I can count
and has stashes of paper all over her desk, scribbling away at her imagination.
I really wonder if she has writers block sometimes,
or if her books are going well,
but all i can say is that she’s a writer
and she enjoys the written word.
Ultimately, she makes her home
within the poetry sh
I will never forget the way you made me fall in love,
how you touched me without using your hands.
The kisses that crashed over our lips,
and how you offered me your everything when I had nothing.
I can still pick up the scent of roses that lingered off of you,
I can still feel your warmth radiating off of our messy bedsheets
with our bodies sprawled next to each other through the long nights.
Your hand in mine, fingers laced.
Your smile and laugh that reminded me
I was in love again.
We've both always had
darkness inside of us.
How did it make you feel?
Did it give you power?
Did it make you want to be saved again?
I'll always come back
crawling and desperate in need,
bruises all over my knees,
I've never found
my place in this world.
I wish you would tell
me if you even cared,
I need this,
I need you,
I won't succumb to it,
no, I'll be alright.
I let my heart
get in the way of my heart again.
That's how I
lost my mind.
I learned the hard way
that you will never heal
running back to
the things that
hurt you.
I stopped making
wishes long ago.
I feel it everywhere,
all around me,
throughout the air,
inside my soul.
Spring murdered autumn
with winter's soul,
and showed me,
there are some people
you will never
see the same way again.
I'm nothing,
but a lifeless face
you'll soon forget.
You won't remember me,
and I won't have
a clue as to
who you are.
I can't function.
there's too many
voices in my heart.
Every night I let the feeling of hollowness
take over my heart.
My mind fills with everything
and nothing at the same time.
I no longer understand
what has slowly turned my world
into the darkness.
It's just me,
and has always been me
alone in my own demise.
I am a stranger to this world,
and it is a stranger to me.
I am worth a lifetime.
I am delicate,
and the lies I speak are truthful.
My emotions are wrriten
all over my body.
I am unable to feel
the guilt and
He ran his fingers
through her wet hair,
he whispered in her ear,
"I love you,
they can't take you away from me".
Sometimes,
love is just not meant
to be.
She was not meant to be loved,
he was not meant to love.
He left,
she cried,
and he would do it
all over again.
They never loved each other
to begin with.
She doesn't have to
cry anymore,
she will move on.
She has to.
Her heart hurts,
it will still ache,
but she will
move on.
It was when his happiness became mine,
that's when I knew I loved him.
It was simple but,
it was the only thing I knew.
I want him to love me,
like I love him.
Why am I so hard to love?
It must have been destined,
written in the stars,
that I will never love,
without pain first.
I believe this is what
they must call "happiness".
Am I truly happy?
Or am I just
killing time?
I’d be cautious as to who I hand my heart to,
there can only ever be so much trust and love until everything starts to wilt.
Letting your memories eat you alive..
You're coming apart at the seams,
letting your past kill your future.
I want someone who can make my heart beat faster, is that asking for too much?
Sometimes all a human being wants is someone to love,
although it's tearing me apart,
I feel as if my emotions will cave in on me at any moment.
This was never about me.
I tried to play with kindness and ended with cruelty.
I love writing about cigarettes,
but I don't smoke them.
The way they look in human hands,
between pale, slender fingers,
held loosely or quite tight,
focused or mind fading towards distant thoughts.
A reminder to ease your rapid day,
something to make the buzz go away,
something to fill up a longing emptiness.
What might it be for today?
I so wonder,
but I can see something poetic,
just as how the smoke trails upwards
and fades to nothingness
only to return again
with the touch of your lips.
The essence is there
as the fire burns,
but it cannot be relit again.
Burn ever so brightly,
ashes to ashes it fals again,
the flame reminds me
th
I’ve noticed she lives in between the pages of her favourite books,
lost in a series of ink and secured through the pages.
I can read the secrets of her heart
and soul inside the constellations of a fantasy world.
All she does is drink tea and writes down absolutely every story idea in her head.
She’s got more pens than I can count
and has stashes of paper all over her desk, scribbling away at her imagination.
I really wonder if she has writers block sometimes,
or if her books are going well,
but all i can say is that she’s a writer
and she enjoys the written word.
Ultimately, she makes her home
within the poetry sh
I will never forget the way you made me fall in love,
how you touched me without using your hands.
The kisses that crashed over our lips,
and how you offered me your everything when I had nothing.
I can still pick up the scent of roses that lingered off of you,
I can still feel your warmth radiating off of our messy bedsheets
with our bodies sprawled next to each other through the long nights.
Your hand in mine, fingers laced.
Your smile and laugh that reminded me
I was in love again.
We've both always had
darkness inside of us.
How did it make you feel?
Did it give you power?
Did it make you want to be saved again?
I'll always come back
crawling and desperate in need,
bruises all over my knees,
I've never found
my place in this world.
I wish you would tell
me if you even cared,
I need this,
I need you,
I won't succumb to it,
no, I'll be alright.
I let my heart
get in the way of my heart again.
That's how I
lost my mind.
I learned the hard way
that you will never heal
running back to
the things that
hurt you.
I stopped making
wishes long ago.
I feel it everywhere,
all around me,
throughout the air,
inside my soul.
Spring murdered autumn
with winter's soul,
and showed me,
there are some people
you will never
see the same way again.
I'm nothing,
but a lifeless face
you'll soon forget.
You won't remember me,
and I won't have
a clue as to
who you are.
I can't function.
there's too many
voices in my heart.
Every night I let the feeling of hollowness
take over my heart.
My mind fills with everything
and nothing at the same time.
I no longer understand
what has slowly turned my world
into the darkness.
It's just me,
and has always been me
alone in my own demise.
I am a stranger to this world,
and it is a stranger to me.
I am worth a lifetime.
I am delicate,
and the lies I speak are truthful.
My emotions are wrriten
all over my body.
I am unable to feel
the guilt and
He ran his fingers
through her wet hair,
he whispered in her ear,
"I love you,
they can't take you away from me".
Sometimes,
love is just not meant
to be.
She was not meant to be loved,
he was not meant to love.
He left,
she cried,
and he would do it
all over again.
They never loved each other
to begin with.
She doesn't have to
cry anymore,
she will move on.
She has to.
Her heart hurts,
it will still ache,
but she will
move on.
It was when his happiness became mine,
that's when I knew I loved him.
It was simple but,
it was the only thing I knew.
I want him to love me,
like I love him.
Why am I so hard to love?
It must have been destined,
written in the stars,
that I will never love,
without pain first.
I believe this is what
they must call "happiness".
Am I truly happy?
Or am I just
killing time?
Hey guys, first journal entry here, as I'm pretty new to DeviantArt! Thanks for over 10+ llama badges in 1 day and all the sweet comments and welcomes! I appreciate it so much! You guys are great!
There are many platforms I post my writing on, although all the writing is added and updated pretty much the same for the most part. I like posting it on different platforms because of the variety, and so people can read and enjoy my writing all over the place!
My writing is usually mature, so 17+ is recommended on all of my writing (and the platforms, 18+ as well, on certain writings; it'll list so!) as I write YA (young adult) fiction novels. J