You may be my number one but,
Coming in second place ain’t nothing but me on the run from your first love.
Sneaking into your room
Smelling nothing but her fresh sprayed perfume
Laying on her pillow on her side of the bed
Its almost too easy to just pretend
To you, there is nothing to mend
Nothing wrong with it
It’s just *** no feelings in it
You say to yourself “it isn’t really cheating”
While telling me I’m the one who really gets your heart beating
Filling me with fleeting horomones I know will go away when I go home
But
Right now you and I are all alone
If I try to leave you’ll just call my name and groan
“I can’t live without you”
So I’ll crawl into the bed that you pretend is ours
As if we’re the ones engaged in more than just an affair
I lie to you and  tell you I just don’t care that i am not yours
As you hold my body and stroke my hair
I almost feel loved
But I know in reality there are no doves in our future
And No future for those imaginary symbols of love to inhabit
So, after our fun
I rise up and
Smile and
Say goodbye
Because no matter how hard I try I will
Never be your number one
And not looking back I’m
Back on the run
This time, not from your day one,
But from you, and your false illusion of love.

i caught myself
before i caught a bad case of you
staining my sheets and making me believe
you meant when you said
i was your favorite person right now.
such a loud and pointless thought,
drenched in impermanence
lacking the resonance
that a favorite should hold
so i place you on mute,
to dull the sting of not being responded to.
i look towards the weekend,
where i'll probably miss the way you look at me,
but not the way my wallet drains a little
and the way we stumble drunkenly up my stairs
you- perfectly complacent,
i- nervous as hell that the nosy neighbors
might loosen lips to my crazy family.
i'll probably miss the way you feel within,
but not the way you're comatose in sin.
apathy is so last year,
but i won't expect you to remember
that i was your favorite right now.
but you were my favorite never.

this is a contemplation
about he who i love oh,
so dearly

when he was created
i think the being we call God wanted to show off

why else would he (my beloved) seem to have been marinated with honey by an angel’s bottom
voice soft and angelic
eyes glistening
smile widening

how perfect could a human being be?
he must’ve been God’s favorite!

— that would explain how such a perfect human could walk on this very earth i do
and why he would never be mine

Beautiful girl with kind eyes;
When the time comes to move on;
She will not hesitate nor blame;
Instead she will feel the pain,
of late night kisses;
of lips once filled with love ;
She will remember how your love,
Gave her everything she wished for;
She will remember your touch,
Just like moon light touching,
her soul from the window;
She'll remember your favorite music,your books;
Your morning coffee,Those sleepless,
Nights when your body found peace next to her...

©desireddreamer

And the worst part about letting you go is I had to let go of everything you ruined. When I listened to my favorite songs I could no longer enjoy the rhythm or get lost in the lyrics, no. Instead I got lost in the way your lips sang along with the words, the way your eyes lit up when I decided to join you. I could no longer just drive down the road because every time I happen to glance at that passenger side, I could see glimpses of you. I could hear you from a distance laughing at the jokes I told. I could no longer walk down my hometown street without feeling your hand in mine, or go to the grocery store without relieving those moments in our favorite late night spot. I couldn't bare going to the park and listening to the leaves in the wind or watching the stars at night because you took that away from me too. You ruined the things in life that made me smile, that made me happy. My sheets are in the form of your silhouette and reek of your soul. I cannot wear my favorite top, I cannot view another sunset... because of you. I don't wear my hair the same way, I don't speak the same way. I cannot bare the loss of you. But I need to.

Occasionally I come across a person with brown eyes,
and I compliment them on those peepers.

More often than not, they laugh and say,
"Oh, they're just brown."
Or
"They're **** colored."
Or
"I wish I had blue/green/hazel eyes."

I want to grab them by the shoulders,
pull them close to me,
look into those eyes and say,
"Your eyes are alluring, deep, and warm."

Eyes the color of delicious coffee,
of which I want to gulp every last drop.
Eyes the color of ancient leather,
the binding of the best books.
Eyes the color of the soft soil,
from which everything good grows.

I say,
"Love your eyes, it's how the rest of us see into your soul."

Brown eyes are my favorite eyes.
Brown eyes make me feel like I am home.

i made you
a sandwich; it's
in the icebox.

i was worried
you'd get hungry.

i remembered
to put your
favorite
things in it,
so please
eat it.

im no ones favorite perosn
I mean I have friends and people who care about me
but I just wish there was thus person who will always be excited to see me, that everyday when they wake up they will be like, oh im going to meet him today so this day is going to rock
I just wished this person existed, so ill know there is somebody in this world that  I mean something to

We all have a favorite word,
whether we know it or not

It’s a word we use frequently,
yet not frequent enough

It’s a word that dwells within us,
living happily in our mansion of a soul

It breathes our air
and pumps our blood

And sometimes it’ll cause our lungs to restrict,
or our heart to stop

But, like a drug,
we’ll drink it,
inhale it,
inject it,
and everything goes back to normal