Tired but not asleep
Dreamful but not dreaming
Looking through the ceiling
Imagined moon
And countless stars
Touching your ethereal skin
Hell trembling and
Heaven breathing deep within
I know the taste of your lips
Although we have never kissed

Only in dreams
Have I felt your *******
Your weight ontop of me
Heard your whispers
And your moans
Known the fire of your soul
Bathed in the colors of your heart
Dreams of desires lustful rage
Taste the salt between your legs
But only while lost in sleep
Have I ever known you beneath these sheets
Illusions of wanted love
Ghost of things that have not been
Leave their fingerprints
On my hardened skin
When the sun comes crawling in

I have no shame
I have no pride
Only this love
That burns inside

I like pens that bleed
Ink that smears
Girls with scars
Broken parts
***** clothes
Stained sheets
The hint of blood
The taste of lust
The smells of love
Nights through morning
Mornings to night
Suns that sleep
Moons that dream
And all the pretty
You hide underneath
Those pretty
Pretty
Pretty things

i am not good with words
i was never good at literature
never good at fathoming
my thoughts, cries, and pleads into lines and rhymes
always on the look out
for words that i can never understand
and metaphors that dont match
but i'll use them anyway because i thought they'll look nice.
i was never good at poetry,
always forgetting to water
the flowers on my tongue
so they just wither away
and the soil of my literature
will run dry as the pen on my table.
i was never good at using words
as an outlet of my shriveling thoughts
i
never
knew
when
to
hit
the
enter
key
i was never good at this.
but your ears were always closed
and your eyes were always open,
on the look out for your next lover
so here i am.
a girl with poetry for lips and paint fir blood.
here it is.
my poetry,
in all of its pain & glory.

If it’s me, that they malign
Should it hurt, if I don’t know
If it’s them, that I despise
Does it, on my face then show

If I say I will, but don’t
Should it bother me inside
Does it matter if I care
If my pleas have been denied

If I’m feeling all alone
Would I feel better, if ignored
If I confess to you my sins
Will my conscience by restored

Should I tell you that I love you
If my heart tells me I don’t
Should I commit my life to you
If I know that yours, you won’t
BOEMS BY JA 540

Hidden is my mask,
beneath my own face.
Is the reality deluding?

Tears coz of a bug,
the bee, wish not flee,
else, eyes wont weep.

Blinding my sights,
I could see inside,
else, the vision play jokes.

Pumping blood in my veins,
the cold heart in warm blood.
Heart, if warm, I bleed.

Warmth of a hug,
if not, I feel,
waver of icy air.

Closeness of a smile,
the company, if not, forever,
I refuse to exist.

I sit
and dream
remembering all will come back to me
Though all fears i faced will not make pacts with me
Broken
as blooming courage