Sumatra

I remember in a moment of mosaic frailty
under a charcoaled spring moon
when all of me ached for him
& the irises whispered his name
in every part of my heart he was written on

Wide eyed & dressed to the nines
I had walked into this dream
with a slenderly strut
Clouds parted in the sky
until his lips met mine
& the heavens collided

She took the pieces of him that has him missing from himself
& all I got was the lukewarm leftovers numbing my teeth on a 1,000 mile flight

"But I love him!" I screamed in my head
Reality's arms pulling me away

Daylight burns my eyes
The walls are closing in
as I wake up alone
without him
Again

To.get.her

Libra moon rising in a mute requiem
neath the blur of stars crashing

Brought to my knees
I wept of the darkest sins

He laughed like he already knew my hands were dirty

Ramblings Of An A.P.D. Poet

I've never been one of those people who could talk to anyone. I tend to be quite shy & even introverted at times. Alot of that comes my self diagnosis of Avoidant Personality Disorder. Feelings of inadequacy & the fear of being judged or rejected can be so overwhelming it affects me in every aspect of life. Ironic, isn't it? Painfully lonely yet at times paralyzed with fear to the point where all I do is keep to myself. It's kept me from living most of my life, social situations, job opportunities. It almost seems like I've never even looked at life the same as everyone else. Then again, perception isn't reality. I always felt.. different.. Like I was just on some other level; not saying that I'm better than anyone by any means. How do you get used to feeling alone in a room full of people? Maybe it's the same thing as being nervous, as being nervous is a selfish energy because you're making the situation all about you. So I've been told anyways. If we as humans are "programed" to need other people, why is it so hard to admit that? To reach out to another person for comfort.. Probably the same reason why I cant bring myself to sleep in my bed when my daughter isn't home. The couch is the perfect size & there's no extra room to remind me my love is over 1,000 miles away.

I've been struggling to find purpose in my life. The best thing I've been able to come up with is I'm here to share my stories with others, whether it be through my poetry or my new found need to splay myself here for the world to see. To offer comfort, hope, empowerment. With the craziness I've been through I could write a few novels I'm sure. An emotionally unavailable alcoholic of a "father", a 5 year abusive relationship with my daughter's father, not to mention I'm an ex meth addict & have issues with bulimia as well. Pain builds character. I am survivor, never a victim.

& I Quote

When the impulses which stir us to profound emotion are integrated with the medium of expression, every interview of the soul may become art. ~ Hans Hofmann

Behind Shadows & (So)Lace

Airports. They have such thick energies. Sometimes they seem like the only real place left in the world.That barbed wire feeling of missing pieces meshed with new beginnings. Where people open their arms to welcome old loves. It's beautiful, you get to see everyone with their hearts on their sleeves. I left mine broken in a terminal in Phoenix.

I found him under the upside of down
in the wisp of a dream
glowing silver in the shadows of me

I remember the last time I touched him. ( "Please God, don't make me left him go.." ) I look back on it now & wished I would have turned around to watch him leave but I couldn't even bring myself to walk away.. I wish I would have cried, screamed, anything just so I wouldn't have to wake up alone, without him. Again.

Yet here I am. A lonely poet with no one to listen to my thoughts but my paper. & how long do I really have before the hope in my pens runs dry?

Photography

the pretty intricacies that make intimacy like poetry

a weathered vein of love that coursed and cursed
my body, for what it wanted to give.

"the pretty intricacies that make intimacy like poetry"
~ saintedmad ~


http://www.darkpoetry.com/node/work/126200

G. Loomis

What lies beneath a laboured breath of hope
when kismet forges an exhale in the shadows of love

That bitter off kilter feeling of homesick
the taste of stale smoke
& whiskey stained regret still lingering on my lips

The angels wept that night

& even the strongest sense of self couldn't wash you off me

In The Garden Of Orchids

Under whisperings of my heart
I lay in the hope of love
The imprint of him still carving up my thighs

In breathless whispers
fingers tracing shadows on the outline of my hips

Back arched against his chest
His breath burning reveries down my spine
as he kissed me again
& always
for the first time

Love Is

It's been since Feb 16th, not even a month since I left Arizona & the next time I see that man I swear I'm going to grab at him like a life jacket. Ironically in a way, he has been to me. He helps me save me from myself.

I fought so long, so hard only to find him already inside my heart. Maybe it's cause no matter how crazy things are feeling in my life every time I hear his voice none of that matters anymore. We stop the world from spinning & all that's left is the space between his lips & mine.

In 5 minutes he erases all my doubts. Not only about myself but about us, life, everything. With a feeling like that its hard not to get lost in the "forever" of things, but with something so perfect how could it not work? Love conquers all right? Hope, it's this amazing little constant reminder for us to live in the now. Be thankful for whats in front of us & cherish the experience. It's all we have when tomorrow is not promised.

What is there if there isn't love? & what is life without love, without hope? Have you really lived until you've felt your lover's touch on your skin? Lost your breath in their eyes? When you believe in love you have to think that even if you feel you've found your soul mate & if it doesn't work out, then there has to be something better suited for you out there. There has to be.

There's still that part of me that believes that there's one right person out there for everyone but that could just be the hopelessly romantic side of me wearing rose colored glasses again.

I've never been a traditional girl. I write my own rules when it comes to matters of the heart. Love for me is to be lost in the moment with the most perfect man, in the most imperfect situation.

Micro Poetry

Sometimes there's just not enough heat on the back burner
I hope you're keeping warm darlin'

Random Musings

“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.” ~ Rumi

@oshum on Twitter
The tears of recognition will cleanse the mirror of perception, illuminating the path to spiritual conscious awakening

Mental Focus: Tool for narrowing desires into concentrated beams of energetic projektion allowing manifestation of such desires.

Around his neck he wears ~ adoring hearts on a string of sweet words ~ trophies of poetic license ~ casanova fatalities

@Ysabeluna ~ Twitter
incognito love ~ demands no reciprocity ~ yet, i ache for your identity

@lippy73 ~ She looks for herself / in your glance, your touch, your love / leaves all else behind

Twitter Poetry & Art

ι åм ηєω т๏ тнιѕ ρå†н / å ℓιgнт / å мιяя๏я / åωåкєηє∂ ву у๏υя т๏υ¢н

http://twitter.com/Guy_Vincent

I Remember December

Playing Russian roulette with my heart
& my finger trembles on the trigger

He's the only one that could make love drip down my thighs
unrequited

Shallow breath
trembling

The taste of him still on my lips

Breathe It

•  ◎ ‧‧• intense √ib®åтi0ηѕ •  ◎ ‧‧• •  ◎ ‧‧• • ◎ ‧‧• нåυη†iηg ƒєєℓiηgѕ•  ‧‧• ◎ ‧‧• 0ηℓy ℓσ√є• •   ◎ ‧‧•  ◎ ‧‧• #gVr ◎ ‧‧•  ◎ 

by http://twitter.com/Guy_Vincent

Divinations

Silhouette cut into the outline of moonlit requiems left bleeding for the night
he stood like a fallen god amongst slaves

Prism'd
I beg for rain
.....the fires are due

Alchemy Of Ruins

Against the whisperings of a slanted horizon
on the other side reason
love plays here

He stares at me through hungry orphan eyes
in a thirst for (com)passion
& erases the lines of where I thought I existed

I painted him somewhere in between my dreams
& that black inked night when my pens ran dry
neath the scattered remnants of fallen stars

I am a tattered paper doll
folding under his finger tips
in silent prayer
that he'll take his time in breaking my heart

Random Inspirations

And There Was Nonelouder

I feel like I've been holding my breath for two years for this man. This beautifully flawed perfectionist of a man. Who just happens to live over 1,000 miles away and will be even further across the U.S. in two months. We've decided to give a relationship a try. Who knows if anything will even come together in the end. Nothing in this life is certain but I refuse to live with what ifs.

Every now & then I have to force a gasp just to know this isn't some fairytale I've created in my head from loneliness. From it I've learned the beauty of pain is being able to appreciate love that much more, even if it seems to be one sided. Even if it feels like everything you never knew you always wanted could slip through your fingers in one moment.

Like you've given so much of yourself that there's not even enough left for you at times.

What else are you supposed to do when your heart belongs to someone long before you ever gave it away?

I am clad in a dreamer's hope, making smoke signals with my beggar's blanket, praying my love will soon follow. Gives a whole new meaning to keeping warm, doesn't it?

Although sometimes I feel like I'm in the middle of an ocean, attempting to swim to shore with one arm. Like I've painted an unrealistic portrait of love. But isn't choking on the butterflies how its supposed to be? The feeling that you've found home hidden in their eyes, like that's where you belong.

Sometimes I think that even if everything in you is screaming for your heart not to get broken, sometimes you just have to dive in face first. Be prepared to hit your head on the concrete & live with no regrets.