The world sells destruction. And, I eat it for breakfast. My home. No, not a home. My house is too small to fit in all my anger and destruction. I see it leaking. Cutting the sunlight in two. I sold my soul to the devil … Continue reading Destruction.
Anacampserote- something that can bring back a lost love
In the place
Where our dreams
And realities collide,
In the spaces
Between each minute,
In the magic
That resides
Within your words-
That’s where
You’ll find me.
That’s where
I’ll be waiting.
-The Girl Lost In The Bookstore
I know this is shit, and I apologize.
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We cut open the minutes And pour poetry inside them Trying to immortalize the seconds. We hear a thousand stories In the silence Between the moonbeams. We see a million colours In the darkness that resides In the spaces between two stars. We listen to … Continue reading We.
Don’t just dip your toes
Into the moonless midnight
Of my mind
Plunge headfirst
With abandon
Make your home
Among the dark waters
Swim, until you find
All the secret caves.
Don’t be afraid, darling
For I know
You are no stranger
To the darkness.
Colour me happy with
All the shades
Of your name
And the day the sun
Finally begins to shine
Down on my waters
Will be marked in history
As the day two souls danced
To the whispers
Of a heart
That is broken no more.
-The Girl Lost In The Bookstore
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I drape my fingertips
With ink and paint
That has been
Fashioned from
My feelings
For you
And you,
You become the canvas
I paint on.
-The Girl Lost In The Bookstore
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Colour me With the tips Of your fingers- Paint my lips With the hope That lingers On your own- Brush my cheeks With brilliant hues Of love- Make me glow With the warmth That runs Through your veins- Wrap my soul With a riot of … Continue reading Masterpiece.
Wanderlust flows Like blood In my veins- My cerise lips Taste like love And heartbreak- My cerulean eyes hold A hundred secrets To cities undiscovered- My cheeks are smeared With a thousand shades Of magic- And my soul Is dripping With a million colours That … Continue reading Wanderlust.
At times Your absence Whooshes into me Like a gust of wind Through an open door And I see you Everywhere I go. As for me, I am Too much feeling Trapped in Too little body Trying to Leak out the pain By writing Love … Continue reading Love letters to the dead.
Poetry is not
In the words
It is in
The spaces between-
So heavy
With feeling
That when
The poet shivers
You feel
The cold.
-The Girl Lost In The Bookstore
I’m back, people! Well, till my next exams anyway. How have you been? I’ve missed you all!
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I see poetry
Everywhere I go-
In your lonely eyes
And
The haunted songs
The sad trees
In your garden
Sing.
You can’t
Marry loneliness
And wonder why
Happiness won’t fall
In love with you.
-The Girl Lost In The Bookstore
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Literature Is My Porn 