RevengeofEnrique: gotta roll the old bag says i dont eat tonight if i dont get off the computer
Sometimes i lie.
One day I'll make a book of you.
I'll grind your bones into paste.
Your soul will come out your nose
and I'll capture it between covers.
I can hurt you with my questions.
They eat all people except the ones I love.
You're in love? So am I.
But I think the cynics had it right
when they said there's no such thing
as real love in this world,
though it's such a beautiful place.
Sometimes i hear voices telling each others' secrets at night
while lovers lie, quixotic, entwined
and sometime I'd like to watch you sleeping
(my beautiful friend)
sometime I'd like to sleep with you
I can blow your mind
as easily as breathing in.
and I'll dance for you if you'll close your eyes.
No peeking through fingers
or hands that trace the outlines of faceless girls in the dark.
The moon is a lime and I'm trying to be truthful:
I'd like to be the air that inhabits you
for just this moment.
I'd like to be that unnoticed
and be that necessary.
My book of you will make you real to me
in a way all your pretty words never could.
and I'm amazed at how hurt we all are.
a damn good poem i found in my printer today. im not sure whos it is but its hawt.