You have emerald eyes and honey lips that I can't get enough of.
You are as magnificent as sunsets and as rare as shooting stars, so I've already placed all my wishes on you.
You make the air seem lighter and forever seem possible and I, a stubborn sceptic, can't help but wonder what it is about you that makes it all seem so easy.
Tal vez tenemos que reconocer que las huellas del pasado se han hecho profundas, que los rencores nos surcan los labios y los cimientos tiemblan tratando de mantenernos en pie. Algunas fisuras atraviesan el alma, algunas confesiones destrozan el corazón.
Tal vez debemos ahuyentar los recuerdos y sellar los labios, porque las manecillas del reloj siempre giran a la derecha. Mis huellas en tu cuerpo ya se confunden con otras y tus huellas en mi corazón ... bueno, eso es algo que sólo tú y yo sabemos.
Tal vez despertemos en 10 años y yo sea tan sólo un vago recuerdo en tu mente, un reflejo rodando por su espalda m
I don't believe in fairy tales ...
You are not my knight in shining armor, but a boy with a scarred heart and bruised skin which feels oh-so-tender when placed against mine.
I don't believe in happy endings ...
For me there is no ending, just mornings that begin sharing sunrises in your arms and dreams that start when my head finds the right spot in your chest so that I can hear you beating "I love you"s
I don't believe in destiny ...
No fortune cookie, no palm reading, no serendipity can explain the fire in your eyes or the precision of your fingertips wandering on my waist.
I don't believe in fairy tales, happy endings or destiny ...
You have emerald eyes and honey lips that I can't get enough of.
You are as magnificent as sunsets and as rare as shooting stars, so I've already placed all my wishes on you.
You make the air seem lighter and forever seem possible and I, a stubborn sceptic, can't help but wonder what it is about you that makes it all seem so easy.
Tal vez tenemos que reconocer que las huellas del pasado se han hecho profundas, que los rencores nos surcan los labios y los cimientos tiemblan tratando de mantenernos en pie. Algunas fisuras atraviesan el alma, algunas confesiones destrozan el corazón.
Tal vez debemos ahuyentar los recuerdos y sellar los labios, porque las manecillas del reloj siempre giran a la derecha. Mis huellas en tu cuerpo ya se confunden con otras y tus huellas en mi corazón ... bueno, eso es algo que sólo tú y yo sabemos.
Tal vez despertemos en 10 años y yo sea tan sólo un vago recuerdo en tu mente, un reflejo rodando por su espalda m
I don't believe in fairy tales ...
You are not my knight in shining armor, but a boy with a scarred heart and bruised skin which feels oh-so-tender when placed against mine.
I don't believe in happy endings ...
For me there is no ending, just mornings that begin sharing sunrises in your arms and dreams that start when my head finds the right spot in your chest so that I can hear you beating "I love you"s
I don't believe in destiny ...
No fortune cookie, no palm reading, no serendipity can explain the fire in your eyes or the precision of your fingertips wandering on my waist.
I don't believe in fairy tales, happy endings or destiny ...
disaster in 3 parts by twelvedaysofjune, literature
Literature
disaster in 3 parts
i.
i watch you
skip rocks
over the water
like you skip
all the conversations
you don't want to have
(which is to say
all of them -)
ii.
we are
moths circling
the flames,
so in love with
our own destruction;
iii.
how can
a ship sink
if it has never
set sail?
a poem for your thoughts by twelvedaysofjune, literature
Literature
a poem for your thoughts
if i were to write you a poem
it would probably be about
your hands & their callouses,
half bitten nails & lines.
if i were a psychic i would try
to read your story from your palms
and i'd write about the future i see
in them, but i'm not, so instead i'll write
about all the fragile parts of me
you can hold with them. if i were
to write you a poem
i'd probably write about the shape
of your mouth & how it looks
when you say the word 'love'. the poem
would probably be a love poem, but love
is a language foreign to me, so chances are
it'd come out in a jumbled mess. & maybe
you'd smile in spite of this. if i were
any good at expressing my feeli
soft; not the shattering
of plates on the floor,
but the washing away
of river banks
by the steady flow of water,
until what was once safe ground
is no longer, and i no longer
know where we stand. the hardest lies
to swallow
are the ones
in which i tell myself
i'm okay, it's okay
loving someone
who loves himself
more than me. there are not enough
candles in the world
to guide me
in this darkness, and if life
is a journey -
i have lost
my path.
the things we don't want to talk about by twelvedaysofjune, literature
Literature
the things we don't want to talk about
some days, mom wears the divorce
like a locket around her neck.
it's a simple piece -
clearly once beautiful, now tarnished,
and she never opens it anymore. some days,
mom wears the divorce like a bruise,
like the ones he left
on her arms. some days, she covers up
with makeup, pretty clothes,
forced smiles. other days, she wears it
like a badge, as if to say
i got through this,
i am strong. some days,
she is open and honest and unafraid,
and on these days, she talks
about the damage and wounds left behind,
and i wonder if all her scars
are shaped like his hands, too.
some days, mom wears divorce
like a sweater, like it's cold outside
eve
loss tastes like this: you fucking hate lavender, so when you broke my heart, i lit my room up with it, sprayed the perfume, set the diffuser, lit the candles. i hope the scent swims in my veins, i hope it replaces the brightredwarm of my blood. i have dreams where i pull it from my throat in thick, purple reeds—hanahaki disease, the doctor in my nightmare tells me— i leave them on your doorstep, wet and choked. i wake up. i paint my eyelids purple, and then i cry my makeup off. when you broke my heart, i wanted to break yours, too, but i couldn't. hurting you meant guilt heavy on a heart that was already shattered. already bleeding. hurting you meant grief in the cathedral of my chest make it burst open in hymn, that organ of my heart, loud, river-flown. hurting you meant you would hurt, too. there is no poetry in hurting somebody else. loss tastes like this: you apologize. i forgive you. i let you back in. this is the part where the whole crowd boos— i know how this
After a pretty hard weekend :( I logged on to realize my deviation "Soft and Sweet" is one of the winners of the "Love is in the air" contest, hosted by ~the-photographicpoet (https://www.deviantart.com/the-photographicpoet).
This has made me unbelievably happy. Specially since I've never considered myself a poet, I try but I never thought I was actually good at it. This definately makes me feel better about that and besides makes me want to keep learning from all your art, comments and critiques.
This is the link to the news article:
http://news.deviantart.com/article/111113/
No quiero presumir pero hoy recibí una Daily Literature Deviation!
Si alguien quiere visitar el News Article éste es el link http://news.deviantart.com/article/109386/
Estoy increíblemente feliz por esa y otras maravillosas razones. He encontrado en la literatura una forma de desahogo para todas esas cosas prácticamente inexplicables que suelen acompañar al amor. Nunca me he considerado buena escribiendo, pero esto me da ánimos para seguirlo haciendo y compartir mi arte con ustedes!
Happy Valentine's Day everyone! :heart:
Thank God I happen to be surrounded by love all year long, I have amazing people in my life that make me smile everyday :)
Anyway, there's this really cool contest going on, it's called "Love is in the air" by ~the-photographicpoet (https://www.deviantart.com/the-photographicpoet), you can find the information in this news article :
http://news.deviantart.com/article/108191/
Have a nice day! :)