Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Isabella H Dec 2011
"The outlook of what an opposing force says can only say not do,
As it maybe the outcome of your sedation."
Isabella H Dec 2011
Today, A day I dreaded most then others.

I’ve been looked down as an ant and microscope

That has been burned horrible like morning bacon.

I've been looked down and shown for no mercy but the way they looked at me, beaming lasers of judgment.

But the feeling of a kid came upon be once again more and more.

These thoughts made me question every being of my existing life of a person.
  
My mind and heart is weary at the time being.

All I can say is what am I going to see in the mirror now a woman? Or a child?
Isabella H Dec 2011
I am not what I seem to be, a child in one’s eyes and reflection.

I am still in one’s developing state of mind.

I am an illusion of a woman desiring to be a value amount of a grown up.

Surrounded what it is, the truth is I have lied to myself I am a kid in this state of form.

Even though my mind is of a higher sight of a grown up my form seems to oppose that phrase of being.

What could it be that lead me to linger this questioning of a human that I live as of one.

As of today I see many humans upon to be looking down at me all they see is a reflection of a child.

No, this cannot be.

Is this how you see me? Only as a child?

How will I be able to please you in this body of compatibility?
Isabella H Dec 2011
What holds me so far for your responds?

What is it that blinds me each time I cannot withstand that long hours without seeing your true beauty upon other humans.

Are you really here when I’m so near of clinging onto you like a damsel in distress.

Why are you is irresistible?

Have you noticed that others maybe venerable to you?

The equated, sensation I crave to wrap my arms around and trap you in my shameful lust.

To tie down until you give up your senses into my and collapse onto my knees.

To become a wild beast and take control of each over lapping situation,

To also make me go wild and take over to be above all that surrounds us and the galaxy.

To let my hands run wild in your thick blonde fetish locks of hair.

To give a fiery presses upon your neck and body but a peck on to those trusting lips,

How can you be the one thing that I cannot have?

All of these sinful things how can it be so hurtful but so pleasing?

Being able to whisper into your ear and say what you truly want to hear.

Be the one I scream lustful, desiring, compassion towards too.

Why can’t I have you as my own to everything there is?
Isabella H Dec 2011
Have you fallen in a twilight zone?

The illuminating skies
Up above
Our air.

Silent unspoken praise
And good nights.

Fluttering hand movements that lay about in the dark corners of the room you sleep in.

Infant sizing the motionless shadows
Underneath the bed.

But as time passes us even the memories are past along as it goes.

But now it is our time to sleep.

Hoping for the sweetest sweets one could have as a replacement of a bittersweet candy bar.

On a mattress made of a cloud that had dropped from the heavens that were created.

A pillow that protects and heals ones sores, wounds, and dreams.

A blanket to comfort of warmth that shields us in our sleep
And the monsters that surrounds us.

And seconds of the beauty of blue eyes that closes unknowingly comes to an end for another day is to come.

To have a thought, is to be all of it.

Be the mattress you lay on to confront you.

Be the pillow that protects and heal the sores and wounds and dreams.

Be the blanket to be the comfort of warmth that shields us in our sleep.

And the monsters that surrounds us.

Most of all be that thing you dream about that most and be the sweetest of them all even if they are forgotten temporary in a flash.

For as long as to remember please dream sweetly for as long as can be.

Now sleep tight and be filled with unquestionable thoughts of curiosities.

-Goodnight.
Isabella H Dec 2011
I hope you’re happy right now

Where are you?

I hope your eyes are filled with joyful excitement and cheer.

I hope all the cells in your body are bursting with fire.

I hope the flashing timeline that you’re developing each minute is lovely as it should be.

I hope the cherish future and journey are as great as one can be.

I hope that the increasing laughter fills your desiring week of carefree cold bearing season of raining ice molecules in the isolated freezing air.

I hope the unnoticed thoughts of one that treasures you are at least there in your warm internal heart.

I hope that what it is your doing keeps you in a lovely thought of mind.

I hope at night is as peaceful and soundless as one can be.

I hope that the state of mind that wanders does not go off on its own.

I hope that the unwary wish of a dead end does not enter the ideals of leaving.

I hope you have a hint of torment of me when I’m not there with you.

I hope one day I’ll be able to comfort the lingering questioning of a symbol of compassion.

I’ll I hope for is your happiness is as important as being with you.
Isabella H Dec 2011
It can only be from within your reach

The hazy gap between her
And the uncanny disclaimer that drawls her in deep, so fast.

The mesmerizing portrait
That catches her attention like the speed of light.

Something to look so false and amusing
To jump out, like a freshly painted picture.

Clinging onto the, questioning binderies.

A polished shine of
A bud in full bloom.

Ready to be picked by a lonesome thick pinch
Just like her to be carried by a breath taking sensation

Into a lonesome vase, as her home.

Even though her voice cannot be heard
It’s what’s being said in a sound that matters the most.

Closing her hands and opening she sees there is nothing but a feeling of relief.

An encounter of embracement that illuminates the clear sighs of happiness.

Like a classic fairy tale that ends in a delighted foretelling beginning and ending.

The pleasing scents of musky sweet delicate healed memory.

Only now will she see her foretelling her own fairy tale.

To be written and painted onto a bare faced skin canvas.

Time approaching closer and closer

The yearning Calculation

Of Sensibilities.
Next page