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jackiewelles

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Responding

Your elusive smile made me wonder, If you believe I missed you at all. It's like the inches between us, Just a little too far for you to feel the aching of my heart. But the kiss that swept me unprepared, Made me realize just how much you miss me, How much your smile hid, And how my love will always respond to you in return.

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Love Is Unfair

I want to absorb your tears with my chest, Taste the saltiness with my heart, Leaving it to dry where it is, And feel the warmth of you in my arms. I took off my shirt for you to blow your nose, So I can hear you breathe out in relief. And it comes in such small warm gasps, That I wish to collect them all just to keep you from the cold. And tomorrow we are going to wake up and just be friends again. There will be no more tears or warmth of unshed love. So I feel I should be the one crying now, Because I could not have loved you more.

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This Kiss

Sometimes I dream about the flickering teasing in your voice, Running my hands through your river long hair. The beautiful promises you makes of my heart, The candlelight words we've spoken in between. More than often you've dated me with your love, Shown me beautiful things in my life, And like a fairy tale story, Made me believe in all I want to believe about love. So as you are holding me now, I am tempted to give you just about everything. And so long as you are letting me, It'll have to start with this kiss.

bshuffett

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Ferment

My flesh is burning; glowing embers reminiscent of a lit cigarette, slowly withering away. My viscera; now nothing more than ash. My heart is reaching the stage of decomposition, beating more slowly every passing minute. There is a cataclysmic entity that was once known as my soul, but it is of no more use to me. It craves release from this carrion. -Brian Shuffett March 27th, 2010

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Dissolution

I have found that there are no certainties, nothing that one may truly claim as their own. Torn from my hand was your heart, and you have sought to devour my soul through manifestations that have charred the walls of my mind. -Brian Shuffett July 27th, 2010

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Discomposure

You stumble from the tree like Autumn's dead leaves. Deteriorating and still you sing, "Life has only brought me pain." You speak of your misery as if it were a splendid thing. Yet what "blessed memories" can bruises bring? You slowly speak in fear, "I've grown accustomed to the tears." -Brian Shuffett July 27th, 2009

metal-steffi

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Trapped

Hatred is what he feels, Towards anyone and everyone. Love is what he cannot feel Everything was taken away from him Emotions trapped inside his heart. He locks himself in, a wall that cannot be penetrated Not worth showing his hurt, anger. No one would understand, No one would spare him time, Emotions trapped inside his mind. For he once believed, He was the happiest guy The King of the world - But now he's traumatized, Neglected; a nobody.

Literature

The Angel of Death

At night he comes to me He lies besides me Staring in my eyes With his skin, white as ice Although he's scary And known as the reaper To the contrary He is a keeper He makes me remember Not to be bad Not to lose my temper And not to be sad He makes me remember the nice times I had To live my life as happy And never be mad He tells me stories Experiences others had Makes me realise My life is rad When the sun is rising He goes away Leaving me wondering When it'll be my day

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Burnt Love

Should I stay here, locked? Suffering in this turmoil; Taking all the blame from you listening to your excuses listening to your complaining when I could be anywhere when I could be with anyone I choose. *** My answer is yes I'm accustomed to the pain you bring I know that within you, my monster man there's a beating heart which knows how to love how to sustain our undying flame. It's a matter of time now…

Suggested Collections

poetry

Literature

Despoema de amor

Deveria lhe compor versos perfeitos Que homenageariam todo seu ser Te diria que o meu sonho é te ter Mas fico com preguiça e não faço tais feitos Diria que desbravaria todo o mundo Somente pra defender seu nome Só que eu esqueci dele, to usando um pronome, Então é melhor guardar isso num buraco fundo Doaria pra te uma parte de mim Se necessário até meu coração Mas na hora do transplante eu daria uma de fujão É melhor a essa estrofe eu dar um fim Falarei então que até Lua eu te daria Mas agora de me lembro de um problema: Não consigo nem sequer puxar

Literature

Desire

Your smooth skin, It drives me crazy I want to touch you, And just maybe, You...will let me... The look in your eyes, It really drives me wild I shouldn't be surprised, That you're so tempting... You are all I can see... Desire... Taking over me Desire... Controlling me I can see... The light in your eyes, Every time you see me... The beads of perspiration, Are rolling down your face As you look away, I lean in for a little taste, Because you let me... I can see your curves, Move underneath your shirt And I can't place a price, On what this moment's worth... So revealing... Desire... Taking over me Desire... Always controlling me I can s

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Our Last Kiss

If I had known that it was our last kiss, I would have inhaled you deeper within me. If I had known that it was our last kiss, I would have seared your taste onto my tongue. If I had known it was our last kiss, I would have scorched your scent into my skin. ... If I had known, I would have frozen time ...

poems and lit

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Loveless: Butterfly-Touch

His hands are almost always cold. They are cold and they are bony. Cold, bony and big but they're soft. Not even Seimei's hands were as soft as his. Not even when all Seimei did was to pat his head or tickle his cheek with feather-light touches - not even then could the softness be compared to those touches. His hands are even calloused in places – and there are scars on them he notices when he looks closer - but even though Seimei's hands were untouched by any kind of hard work or craftsmanship they do not compare to these. His hands are big, cold and bony, but they touch him like the fluttering wings of butterflies, caressing, strok

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Tapestry

The morning is a tapestry... tripping over last night's grace, I watch you weave your skin and shake out your hair - soft teal and jonquil shadowing your cheek as the curtains part between your hands. Threads tangle as you turn, telling me dawn is a gentle lover, and the tumble of birds plaiting their soft notes lingers on the pillows where your smile is my undoing.

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Suicide

This lovely suicide - the hiss of smoke dangling between your fingers and the loss of breath that claimed your sleep. Your limbs - somnolent, wrapped against the autumn chill fingers draped with paper angels as someone you never knew tucked a lily behind your dreams. I could almost hear your skin speaking eloquent and parched as summer, wondering if you had landed somewhere holy or if god had kept you waiting.

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Featherdance (Poem)

Listen closely, and you may hear The sound of sacred fire. Its ancestry flickers in a thousand Colors, all within the hearts of unborn heroes. Somewhere deep inside legend, A fringed master slumbers. Its breath sequesters beneath its beak As it dreams in molten gold. Six score, it has lain in wait For its kaleidoscopic guardian. A spirit akin to its veined own, In suit and solemn as he. The skies grow dapper without The grace of its marbled wings And the elegance of the feathers That heal the lame and the ungainly. Its dogs look toward the heavens, Listening for its sacred fire. The hours and the days atrophy And crumb

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Lavender Town

What is that? What do you hear? You look as if You've seen a ghost. Let them speak to you; All their tormented souls Wish is for a living heart To become one with theirs. The plague of sorrow racks These doleful townsmen, As they wander vacant streets With hunched shoulders. He is crying for his mother; Can you feel his tears? You cannot, for you—you— You are like all the others. Please, be their guest, And let them creep beneath your skin. They mean you immortal joy, And no harm shall haunt you. No harm shall haunt you, But they shall instead, Their stoicism patient as they Wait for you to crumble. He is

Literature

Trust

Trust. It's something earned, Not given. It's like an ember of my heart, Placed inside yours To hold and protect. Extinguishing it or throwing it away Will break our bond, It may never be repaired. Don't try to steal an ember, For it's not rightfully yours Until I personally place it in your chest. Once it's there, It grows and strengthens Until it's a fire. A fire of trust That can't be extinguished That can't be thrown out. It will always be there, Linking me to you.

Weightless

RemainToBetray

Published: Jan 5, 2010

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Description

Full View!

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1506x1000px 708.45 KB

Make

NIKON CORPORATION

Model

NIKON D5000

Shutter Speed

10/150 second

Aperture

F/5.6

Focal Length

48 mm

ISO Speed

1600

Date Taken

Jan 3, 2010, 10:00:26 PM

Comments2

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LithiumDreamsArt

Feb 8, 2010

Such great detail in this image, nice color and good crop

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