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I’m so sick of feeling alone.
I’m sick of this wanting, craving feeling towards love.
i want someone to give me the world,
without me asking for it.
i want someone to read me like the back of their hand,
to understand my thoughts and accept my past.
i just need someone
to need me.

i crave someone to finally open up their arms wide and let me inside,
to hold me and to never let go until the world has crumbled and fallen
apart and we have nothing left to stand on but each others feet,
and even then i’m not quite sure i would want them to let me go.
i want someone to finally acknowledge me and my differences
and fall in love with the way my eyes wrinkle in the corners when i laugh.
i want someone to sneak over late at night and talk about the stars and how majestic the color of trees look when a storm is approaching.
i want,
i crave,
i need,
someone
to need me.
I want you to write your name with your tongue inside of my mouth so I can feel it every time I speak
i’m


    began                                        back

    ­
     i                                                            agai­n


where                                              at


    from ­                                  the

       place
You can never love a dreamer
He's always far away
You can never love a seeker
He wanders everyday


Never love a writer
His lines are not for you
His verses are pure lies
His ink is far from true

You cannot love me either
I live in many worlds
A dreamer, seeker, writer
I often break my word..
They told me it's a cruel place.
I should keep my voices down.
They trapped me in this cage
Asked me to not flap my wings around.
Suffocated, I began to bleed
My words out on paper
Which now the world reads.


*You can never imprison a writer.
 Oct 2014 LonelyPoet
Haydn Swan
What is it we see and so often despise,
when we view ourselves using only the eyes,
that distorted image inside our head,
the old snakes skin that we’d like to shed,

dare we look from behind the frame,
beyond the self-loathing, repulsion and shame,
our vesture is woven from the beauty inside,
so take on its mantel and wear it with pride.
I wrote this for anyone who struggles with accepting how they see themselves in the mirror, which is often very different to how others see us.  It sounds like a cliche but beauty really is what we are on the inside.
 Oct 2014 LonelyPoet
Liv
Leap.
 Oct 2014 LonelyPoet
Liv
Do not fear the leap
The leap into the unknown

Not everything stays unknown
Not everything unknown is scary

Sometimes you have to make the leap alone
Sometimes it's into the darkness

You have to muster the courage to do it
Not everything stays dark forever

Do not fear what will happen after  the leap
Fear what will happen if you don't take the leap at all
Two months ago you told me my hair smelled like flowers, and today I saw you stepping on a rose.
A piece of you
Reflecting back
The bitter words in your mouth
Too raw to speak
A poet is
Someone in pain
And someone in love
Someone who looks at the world
Through a kaleidoscope
Who takes a magnifying glass to each
And every
Word you say
And lets them imprint on their heart
A poet is
A star gazer
A dreamer
A chaser of
The improbable
But hopes anyway
A poet is
Tissue paper skin
A heart of glass
And a soul of titanium

A poet is
A sharp tongue
And a gentle kiss
She is a sob
He is a sigh
A poet is
The sun at midnight
Bright and
Burning
Hot
Alive
But cloaked in a darkness
They cannot shake
The brightest day
And the darkest night
A poet is
The human experience
A paradox
An oxymoron
So complicatedly
Simple

A poet is
A lover
Who refuses
To stop wearing their heart on their sleeve
No matter how much it bleeds
But rolls them up
So you can’t see
The blood stains


A poet
Is Poetry
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