Apologists
Little By Little They are so brittle Why am I now alone? Trickle Trickle Trickle Go the fickle Would I had told them if I had known? -MP 01/20/2017
trying on a metaphor

Kiana Khansmith

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

#extradirty
No title available
Jules of Nature

⁂
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

ellievsbear
almost home
dirt enthusiast
$LAYYYTER
Three Goblin Art
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

Discoholic 🪩
Misplaced Lens Cap
Mike Driver
No title available
ojovivo
KIROKAZE
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Singapore
seen from United States

seen from Spain

seen from United States

seen from Canada
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Colombia
seen from Canada
seen from United States

seen from Thailand
seen from United States

seen from South Korea
seen from Brazil
@worksbymel
Apologists
Little By Little They are so brittle Why am I now alone? Trickle Trickle Trickle Go the fickle Would I had told them if I had known? -MP 01/20/2017
You waste my time, by not wasting it enough
Seeds grow to weeds. Trees sprout sour plums. But I can feel no wind upon my chilly toes.
The burning is gone, arose. the fire that
How many times to I have to count, as the seeds still grow?
-MP | 07/15/2016
Junkyard of Lost Faith
The curled up posters
and ripped doodles
scatter
the wall
with memories of a past life
and past holy love for the divine
and the unseen–
now ripped and curled
from his mind
-and not forgotten
as it should.
The bright light
in the view
of his once astigmatism influenced eyes
now dark
with the harsh light
of reality
in a world
only of what is
and the shades of what was.
The Great Comparison–
what once was
and now is gone
haunts
the disbeliever
with a shroud
of a bleak honesty
that churns the cement mixer
full of crosses carved of lava rock
and dried cement
– breaking it
so it can no longer mix
anymore
as the boy can no longer breathe anymore
because it is gone
and hauled off
to the junkyard
of lost faith.
-MP 04/16/2016
There is not enough time within a day To say what I need to say To see the lines I don’t cross To deal with this crucial loss.
There is not enough time to say the words To make sure that I am heard To fight the fight and fight the strife To live within my mortal life. -MP 03/24/2016
Our shadows dance in the light of what is real as your cheeks blush with the unseen thoughts that call through the void. You reach for me, and I reach back, our silloetes intertwining until dusk.
MP 02/06/16 (via somature)
Attached
Twine, twine, twine Your dainty ropes Lure my head Close with their subtle lack.
Silk ribbon red With passion lay against My soft stomach Smooth against the Narrow light.
Barbed wire Coils against my legs With spikes drawing red Force me open And leave me closed.
Unseen heavy whispers Of lurking looks Gloomily attached To my dragging feet.
-MP 01/26/2015
You say I made a joke out of you but you were the one to play me the fool. The fool thought more of what was than what it became. I cried over you, and mourned you, yet you claim that role. I wanted more than you had to give. You claim never to touch me but ask for one last time (There is hypocrisy in your rhyme.)
MP 01/03/2016
Soak your hands in my love one last time. Soak me up till I am dry. Then, once again leave me (like you did before) dry and used. And leave me to mourn once more.
MP 01/03/2016
We
I wonder if you
are proud of me
when you
see the things I
write and read the things I
have to say. But, you
probably think only of the hurt I
have caused you
and the idea of what we
once were.
Though you
have no more reason to be proud of me,
because where there was once we
there is simply you
and me.
-MP 11/25/2015
Magic in the Dark
Those lights are rays of magic in the dark that guide me home to your comfort and warmth. But, I would not like to go from this beauty in the night. I am seduced by the world and it’s majesty. Please don’t take me away from this magic in the dark. -MP
My Dear
Don’t say that I don’t miss you. Because, dear, that simply isn’t true.
I keep my doodles of your beautiful face, and still look over a program from your band concert. I cherish the bouquet of flowers you drew because of my allergies, and blush at the pictures from prom. I still analyze that letter you sent me when you were away at camp, and engulf myself in the poems you wrote.
I have all these things and more kept (neatly) in a folder here with me at college. Because, my dear, what I couldn’t bring with me is you.
No Means Try Harder
He starts kissing my neck,
but I just want to sleep.
His mouth moves to mine,
and I lazily comply.
His hands are roaming my body,
but I just want to sleep.
His hands move to my underwear,
and I tell him no.
He does everything in his power to change my mind,
but I just want to sleep.
He makes it known that he’s not giving up,
and I grudgingly let him in.
And suddenly I can’t sleep,
but I just want to sleep.
-MP 11/06/2015
My heart pounds to the rhythm of your skateboard hitting the seams of the sidewalk.
The butterflies in my stomach flutter to the strums of your guitar.
My knees shake to the purr of your engine as it drives away into the night.
-MP 11/10/2015
A hand pressed down on my chest as I lay. With each breath, the hand pushes down harder. I gasp for breath as I sink into the earth.
MP 11/09/2015
Butterflies
I adored him. I did not love him. Love is not simply butterflies you feel in your stomach or giddiness you feel in your muscles. Love is a deep seeded fullness you feel in your heart. Love is a feeling that is not specifically good nor bad, but a feeling that just is. -MP 10/09/2015
Pink cotton candy wades through denim skies as crystals fall from beating drums.
MP 10/23/2015
She sips her mocha as she tries to focus
on her math homework instead of her pounding heart.
The coffee reminds her of his scent and
she switches to water to clear him of her pallet.
The music plays through the coffee shop and
it is his favorite song. His voice floods
her as she plugs her ears and finally
puts in her earbuds to drown out the noise.
Suddenly she realizes that the walls
are the color his shirt was that day and
he is engulfing her and surrounding
her. And there is no longer her, but only him.
And she can no longer move or breathe, but
to move for him or breathe for him, and he is always
there. So she folds her laptop and grabs her jacket
and opens the door to the coffee shop, and leaves.
-MP 11/07/2015