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  • br33z3 8w

    A love like this

    The way you hug me is bliss...I never felt a love like this. I can tell by the way you kiss me that I'm wanted, and there's nothing like it.
    I hold on to you... You give me hope that things will be just fine... Timing is of the essence.... And you have proven this to me.
    Your a giver and nurturing... I never had a significant other care so gravely. I took a chance at love and won.
    You are nothing like what I've experienced. You take care of me and my needs with such emphasis on my heart that I wondered for a while where would this go... And then you called me your girl.
    The kiss that followed made me want to drop what I was doing and get enveloped in your embrace.
    You care about me in a way that brings me joy and security. I never could express how much I adore you, so I thought I'd show you.
    I hold on to you and prove that I'm loyal and trust worthy. You can tell me anything and I won't flutter. Escalating passions bring us closer.
    I see a future that is filled with lust and no contingency plan... It's just the two of us facing the world. You give me a sense of hope that I had been looking for.
    I'm at a point where I would take your last name and make it my own.... There's nothing like a love like this.

  • br33z3 8w

    Blank canvas

    I'm a blank canvas... All 8 by 10 inches of me. I write to dull the emptiness... I have experienced joy and now I feel slained.
    A slave driver to the insecurities bewelderment gives... I shrowed myself in grease so my skin won't get ashy. I propose that one day I'd be debt free of the prison I'm in...given the opportunity when it presents itself, I drink from the wealth that is laid in front of me.
    I can't help but say I'm a blank canvas, surprise me. Showering myself with an openess... A drive that can not be explained, only experienced.
    I wear a broken heart on my quarter sleeve to remind me... My skin deepened with perminant marks of ink... A constant reminder of past deligations and wrong choices. A blank canvas that can't be erased because there's nothing on it...
    I've grown in many ways... And only hope to find solitude...
    I've awakened to the empty shadows that cling on to, and express... I need for and use less. I tried my hand at many things and failed at attempts to be free.
    A salior to the truth... I'm a blank canvas.

  • br33z3 8w

    Tired of fighting

    Let me digress on the moments that we spent...I have tried a thousand different times to get you to see the errors, but with no fault you complained.
    Fights that lasted all day, mornings turned to night and we are still on the same thing.
    Never on the same page, you continuously try to find a way out of the misshapen artifacts we call life.
    I'm tired of fighting... It is taking up too much of my time which has gone wasted on trying to explain why and what... Because the what ifs and why nots... confused as to the remaining purpose of what being in a relationship is all about. I am sick of explaining myself to you and what could be is a prime example why we aren't what we could be.
    I'm tired of fighting and trying to find ways to express myself in a decent way... Im loath the arguments we have had. I blame myself for not showing more additude and letting you walk all over me. I just can't find any reason to stay. I'm just tired of fighting all day.

  • br33z3 11w


    Deep within fibers of my being there's a silence. I hold on to it with pride and joy, for I know now what I didn't hold on to in the past... There was a base that hit the hard note and a symbol that went along with the sound of my own drum...
    It took a while, but I learned to quiet the beast that lives inside me, conjuring spirits as they rise. Silence was manufacturered... Calm and quiet I found what lays inside of me.
    I no longer hide the years of anguished pain... I keep peace as my protection.
    Fighting the urges that used to surge inside of me, a voice telling me to continue my journey... I'm not ready to give into temporary insanity... Temptation awaits silently as I wait for a reminder that you shouldn't have been apart of my life. All the wrongs don't equate to being right with you around... No good came from it. You where like panio without the keys... Untuned with a deficiency.
    I calmy changed the pep in my step and let go of the negative ambers that you left in my hands.
    Temptation had its way with me one too many times... No clue to facts that remain silent... I've patiently learned that my choices set forth a reaction.
    And deep within in me there's fibers that have ignighted. A force so strong, it left me silent.
    I no longer keep myself gaurded, I worded you off. Pretending to care was all you could give me... And deep within me there are fibers I designate to silence.

  • br33z3 11w

    Title: An amateur at love

    An amateur at love... You have given me hope at finding out what true love is all about.
    I have lost and I have gained... But one fact remains the same... I am an amateur at love.
    I never experienced what little joys holding hands brings, or peckish kisses while I talk about absolute nothing... The smallest hint of romantic gestures frighten me... And I have a jealous streak... An amateur of all things... I have tried in the past but I'm scares of commitment... Seeking a significant other... I hold on to moments.
    Wanting to feel needed, I try to complete the simple task of romance. I'm getting to a point where I can no longer hold my head above water... I'm too old now to start over... I'm set in my ways and have regimented patterns that speak abundently...
    I'm just an amateur at love... Guilty.

  • br33z3 11w

    Crumbs of the poor

    Ive fallen into a deep clout with mixed emotions... Draining the life of me from an ever lasting glee. I used to sing the moments of being free... Now time wasted on trying to find simplicity. I can't bend over backwards for just anybody.
    I won't allow myself to feel the ignorant ways of what doubt brings.
    A slave to proverty, I must find ways to regroup and center myself... The betterment of all things to come, I have yet to find my balance between right and wrong. I've been displaced in a chaotic world where financing the better things, I'm shaking hands with being broke. I speak a language no body knows, and I'm trying to convey my side of the story. How does it feel to be homeless is a question asked far too many times and I can't contritidict myself when I say that it is the one form of stride that you get no applause for. You try to survive on crumbs of the poor.
    I can't shovel out a different version of myself anymore.
    Stricken with hope, I have felt cruelty towards me. I am just a mortal gaining enemies as I climb the offer of dismuse. I can no longer find a cost that isn't too cheap... So I invest in myself in ways that aren't too hard to reach, and wish for the best with clarity....

  • br33z3 11w

    Stains of yesterday

    It started with today, with stains of yesterday etched across your skin... You smelled pungent like sin.
    Promises that where never meant to be heard, disguised as an optical illusion to the truth hidden in a web of lies, distinguished.... And you call yourself a gentleman.
    Untold stories of lust whispered into thin air, as you gracefully touch my face... A thin smile appears across your tight lips...
    It started with today, with stains of promises that where never meant to be discussed.... But your word is never ending and I have held on to passion for it is the key that has opened a platform between you and me... I held on to but never forget that a lie and a sin are different...
    You call yourself an optimist, but I find you to be an oppertunist... challenging as far as you can get... Your voice mellow, and your breath smells of gin... You reak with plagerism... I call your bluff, you deciever.
    It started with today, as I realize that no longer am I your lover... I was just part of a roll you played and with shallow endings I lost grip with humanity, because you showed me the stains of yesterday...

  • br33z3 12w

    Eternally Yours

    Eternally yours... I hold the truth in the palm of my hand as I tell you that I can no longer allow, only escape your master plan.
    I can't live apart, I can only try to save and imagine... Captured by hate, I have always journied outside my comfort zone.
    Lost... Engulfed in the flames of torture, I propose that not only will I not slit my own throat but I will let the feelings of lost cave in.
    Imagine a world without hate... I can only be so combative.
    I was lost, greeving with a sigh of relief as I climb the highest peak. Don't repremand me like I'm a sinner... Greatful of what the day brings, eternally yours is like a one night stand... A fling. Concubine to lonely nights filled with optimal choices... My thoughts only give way to the fruit of it's labor and of your loins.

  • br33z3 12w

    I gave birth

    I gave birth to a bunch of words and called it poetry. From my own to this piece of paper I benounced to you a history lesson.
    Meanings and a right to passage... I gave birth to the idea that one day, I'll be able to lock in ideas, and thoughts to foreground and give tranquility.
    I can't help but explode words as I give birth to these words.
    I gave birth to newborn creativity... Explunging and divolging in a manner more common then most.
    I'd have to admit that it's not just spunk from the tip of my pen... That impregnated simplicity. I am with punitive choices... Abundent when I gave birth without fortress.

  • br33z3 12w

    A cliche

    It's a cliche...romancing two ideas together to become one. Standing in silence as the waves of bordem hit your face like the breeze from the fall nights air.
    A cliche, a catch 22 when someone says I love you for the first time and you begin to dwell on circumstance. Holding on to, but not forgetting the last time you held on to words so pungent you taste it. Vocabulary so thick that it forms an accent. Ironic how the beauty of forever brings...Nothing lasts forever, it's just on going like a cliche of broken promises that fill your memory with what was destined to be the best time of your life.
    A cliche... It forms redundancy. Spinning in circles of truth hidden in a bed of lies. I've come to tell the ultimate story of growing and nurturing what the hearth of pastures that have been set before me.
    I too, live a little...bleeding words of lust and passion as I relax the tones in my voice. I used to speak effortlessly... Now I just keep a quite routine of hardened emotions.
    A cliche... What a domenistic approach to the sounds of erotic vibes stored together. Gracefully I grow my nails and polish them with specs of gold.
    I am forever entranced with forgotten love stories that where told to me as a child, while falling off the edge of the world, in a land called dreams. My head hit the pillow and I forget to laugh at what was told.
    I embrass the power of what's next and pretend that I too will wake up with a jar full of memories that weren't stolen.
    I bring forth an energy that I picked up on my way to tell someone that I had kept a secret from them. Remembering a time when I held on to a fragment of emotion. Bitting my lips till they are swollen...I could never repeat a response that delt with the urgent cries set forth by my predecessors.
    A cliche... Of it all.