Dear Lover (pt 2)I wish I could do more than just reminisce on our relationship. There are things that I love about you, and of course, things that I hate.
I’ve always wanted to keep your class ring and wear it on my thumb, but you always wear it in case you have to pack a bowl. The sapphire is just big enough to put into the bowl of any pipe. It’s a major turn off, but at the same time it enlightens me. You blow smoke rings with a thick tongue and you’re an artist. I catch those smoke rings on my ring finger and in that moment we are married.
We had sex for the first time on the floor of my best friend’s house. Your had major rug burns on your knees. It like that it didn’t happen in my basement. I like that I was too tight for you that night and how we waited until a few days later until you took me. My basement was where I lost my virginity to another boy. Every time we fuck down there, I always think of him. Not because I wish you were him, but because he’s a ghos
My Heart Will Go On Chapter 1What I Write For: Titanic
Warnings: Sexual content, some language
Genres: Drama, romance
A/N: Recently, I have been overly obsessed with "Titanic". I will admit that I have only seen the movie twice (so there might be some mistakes), but I am in love with it so much right now. So to fuel that obsession and do something useful with it, I figured I write a fanfic. Overused title I know, but I couldn't think of anything else. I'll change it as some point. Enjoy
My Heart Will Go On : Chapter 1
So I'm sure you've all heard my story. Jack Dawson, the third-class gutter rat. The struggling artist from Wisconsin and who traveled the world without looking back once. I was a free spirit kind of guy which appeared to always have more pros than cons. I was also the total opposite of her, and I'm not talking about our societal statuses. I'm sure you were told that Jack Dawson died in the sinking of the Titanic on April 15th, 1912. That I died of hypothermia with my beloved Rose
The Red TableThere is no wind
As sun glistens through stoic clouds.
Wrappers and pages of torn homework
A place desolate after dark.
It rings in my ears
Years after years
Like an old friend
Who I hugged and whispered,
Dirt has collected on our old spot,
The red surface not cleaned
By my laughter,
Or your smile.
A circle we created of life
Now empty, since
Our lack of presence renders it useless.
Nostalgia coated in water drops
Is enough to say,
I miss you.
Cosmic dance above my head,
colors that blend sublime.
Blues and greens and striking reds,
I'm lost in space and time.
Such scenes inspire dreamers,
it's nature at it's best!
Poets, artists, believers,
translating beauty's fest.
Thoughts drift to my city home,
the foul, polluted air.
Smog creates a poisoned dome,
yet no one seems to care.
Planet earth, a 'jewel in space',
or so the spaceman said.
That saying now seems out of place,
a 'nest befouled' instead.
But for now I watch the lights,
and dream of better things.
A future day when earth is right,
and harmony takes wing.
UndeadThe ground bleeds through with chalk
And ink falls from the sky
Wool clogs my lungs
And the nails of the air pierce my throat
Fire burns holes in my eyes
And the wax of sleep cakes my voice
Forever frozen rivers beneath pallid fabric
And stumbling through shadows, intoxicated with hunger
When the dirt is peeled back
And the shallow grave abandoned
The death breath walks rigid
And searches for liquid pleasure
Rest in peace.Dive into the deep blue sky, and let it take you by the hand to it's secret hiding place beyond the hemisphere. Where every piece of love for you is catalogued in shades of burgundy velvet.
Fly freely alongside millions of coloured paper cranes, in the highest clouds granting wishes. While I look up at the sky thinking about the endless possibilities surrounding you.
Eat delicious dinner's with your once lost family and friends, as your serenaded by a choir of angels playing tango at your request; while you sip the finest wine, and hover above the most tranquil of waterfalls.
Dance with the golden sun rays, teach them your steps as you sway with the highest trees inviting them to sing a refreshing breeze; hypnotising the world for hours at a time.
Then when you're done––
Drape yourself on the crested moon, with eternity as your blanket.
Rest peacefully, amongst the white sparkling hopes of a billion lost souls.
When I imagine you... I imagine you like this.
© Rocio Bel
Life At Every CornerAs a space clears for life
in search of another adventure,
life reappears over ancient ashes
as if reincarnating for the sole purpose of filling
When America discovered that there was more land to expand,
I encourage you to go find me a corner,
small or big,
in which life doesn't inhibit.
I zoomed into landscapes of unfamiliar places,
Baffled at this scale,
hoping to understand it,
and more so accept it.
And so my eyes spoke forbidden truth,
and it was that Space,
is made for something.
A bigger house is an open invitation
a smaller house is an overflowing home.
And so, i find myself with light bulbs enlighting over my head,
sharp and crisp cutting through my ignorance,
that my home was was not made for only me,
but an invitation to many.
The longer the space,
the bigger the spaces between us,
through these long hallways and closed rooms.
All i hear is a collision of life,
that i once thought wasn't supposed to exist,
but now i under
Just For A SecondPlease can you imagine for me
just for a second...
Both of us...
That's all I dream about
I don't have the imagination
To think of the specifics
Like how it would happen
What we'd be like together
Why we'd be happy
But when I let myself dream
I imagine us...
And while I know
You don't dream about me
You don't know me
Or whether I can truly
Make you happy...
I want you to imagine that
Just for a second,
And tell me if I can try
To make it real.
Even The City KnowsIs it at all easy?
Being by yourself, I mean.
Sitting in a car, on a train, on a bus--wherever you might be now, isn't it hard to be a drifter?
There are no men with newspapers, no women with strollers, no love-crazy teenagers, no annoying toddlers, no anybody.
You stare out the window, like there are people out there, calling your name. The trees are out there, and they've lost all their leaves, all their buds--they've lost everything, just like you.
The sky is out there, and it's gray and colorless, just like you.
The stars are out there, and they're so blown-out-of-proportion, and they're just like you, too.
But the trees, the skies, the stars, they're used to being left alone.
You lack the ebullience of your drink, but it, too, is fading.
Frost has gathered on windows, on the ground, on rivers, everywhere.
Frost comes and goes, just like you, when you finally melt away.
The city draws to darkness and quiet--it disappears, just like you.
But, even frost