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The Lustful Woods

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I follow your shadow into the dark
Where creepers creep
And sinners sleep
Tiptoeing my way through lustful entwined corpses like the roots of a tree
They’ll never break free..
They’ll never break free..
A simple touch of my dress wakes them from their un peaceful dreams
Horrified when I hear their sorrowful screams
There wooden fingers claw at each other with passion or hatred
There moans a painful echo as they wish they never broke something so sacred
As they go on with their affair
And peeping eyes behind shadows stare
I pick up the pace and follow you the rest of the way
They cry please don’t go
Please stay..
Please stay..
I cover my ears and break free from the forest of hidden desires
And find you taking a swim in the lake of loving liars
You smile at me like you always knew I was there
You dip under black waters and I wait for you to come up for air
As seconds tick by I know that you’re gone
I jump into the darkness and hear a haunting song
Like a trance it pulls me down
It pulls me down..
It pulls me down..
Until I’m sure I’m going to drown
Hopeful bubbles slip from my lips and dance their way to the surface
My sanity disperses
Something encases me
Fire and ice
I can’t see but I know it’s you
Your fingers digging into my skin until I’m anew
You found me my love
My love..
My love..
Your words so pleasuring that I let out a moan
And I knew right then that I had a new home
There’s something mind numbing about this disgrace
There’s something I hate about your lustful face
Because now I am trapped in your wooden limb
And all because this one unforgivable sin
Now unknowing lovers dance around me and into the fray
As I scream please don’t go
Please stay..
Please stay..

To see the makeup tutorial inspired by this poem go to my YouTube channel https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kH7tV2uYTNc&t=25s

And follow me on Instagram @LaurissaNicolette

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Featured

Fleeting

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And here I am always slipping in and out of your embrace
Just like your always slipping in and out of my dreams
Close and yet so far
Far and just to close
Chasing and running
Running and chasing
The never ending battle of trying to catch you
Of trying to escape you
Because your love is always fleeting
And my heart is always bleeding
And I never seem to build these walls strong enough
And you always seem to break through
Breaking pieces of me like you always do
Always holding me tight
And pushing me away
Always leaving me
And begging me to stay
And here I am slipping back into your embrace
Holding my breath and getting ready for the next chase

The Seedling

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And the seed began to grow
The dirt surrounding the tiny seed made it feel safe
Allowing it to grow through even the darkest weather
It grew, and grew, and grew
Until the tiny seed emerged into a long stem rose, with red blushing petals
It’s stem was perfectly green, perfectly long, perfectly untouched
It stayed this way for weeks
Maturing and growing even more beautiful
One day the sun was out and the weather was hot and sweaty
The rose didn’t mind though
It drank up all the sun’s rays making it’s beautiful petals open even wider
This was it the rose hit its full maturity
The rose was perfect now and intended to stay that way
But beyond the rose there was something new
A man approached the flower bed where the perfect rose grew
Long, sharp, scissors in his hand
He snipped at the roses long perfect stem
Cutting the rose free from the things the rose knew so well
Although it hurt for a few moments
The rose now realized that it was different
At least for a little while
At least until other men with long sharp scissors snipped at their perfect stems to
The rose was picked and it sat upon the man’s nightstand
Each and every day, each and every night
At least until the man grew tired of the rose and went out to a different flower bed and picked another…

 

Unreachable Shore

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The waves of your love wash over me
Eroding the skin of my dismay
But as waves do your love comes and goes
Leaving me there sharp sand on my toes
I chase the waves
Trying to stay in its gentle current
I thought you would be there but you weren’t
I’m drowning in the unknowing
Hoping your wave will wash me back to shore
But once it is open you cant close this door
My arms are tired
My legs are sore
I cant help but wonder what I’m here for
I’m sick of chasing you
Your salt stinging my heart open wound
The sound of your love strong but un tuned
I’ll let the water take over me
The light of tomorrow I’ll never see
But then your there again
And I’m swimming in the wave of what cannot be

Five O’clock Shadows

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My love sprouts on your cheek at five o’clock every morning
My favorite part of each day
Caressing me with lustful bristles of shadows dream
Nuzzle against me with stubble skin and silky lips
Contrasts that are two of a perfect pair
The textures that get my blood pumping to greet the morning sky
Awaken my senses with prickling heat
Friction that gets my fire started
Sandpaper kisses and smooth sensual touch
It almost breaks my heart every time we have to leave the world of bed
Where shadows dream must fade to enter clean society
But it only makes each night another thrill
As sleeping eyes wake to find
My love sprouts on your cheek at five o’ clock every morning..

 

Kiss Me Like You Mean It

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I could feel the warm of his breath on my lips as he looked down at me.
His eyes bore into my soul, weeding though my many masks and finding my truths.
I could see the swirls of indigo in his steely grey eyes.
Like a storm brewing just under the surface.. and I knew.
That shot of electric lightening was coursing through his veins just for me.
Static cling.
Like a force our lips came together.
Magnetic.
My pulse pounding, my heart racing against my chest like the beat of a fast drum.
Passion music to sway to..
But mostly I could feel…
Feel the butterflies in my stomach flying vigorously.
Tickling me as they flew their way up into my throat.
Blocking my air passage.
I was sure that any moment I was going to pass out but he held me tighter.
Faceting me to the floor so I couldnt get away.
Not that I wanted to…
So I opened my mouth slightly and took some of his air as he slipped in his tongue and with it a piece of his soul to swallow.
Give and take.
We were one then.
Entwined.
Like two vines growing from the same tree.
Impossible to break free..

To see the makeup look that inspired this poem follow me on YouTube: https://youtu.be/px1V4V0kazI

Letters From a Ghost (Part 1)

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There’s a shoebox that hides under my bed
Growing cobwebs and dust and holding the secrets of my past..

11:00 o’clock every day the mail would arrive, and 11:00 o’clock every day I would be waiting.
Searching through the bills and junk mail like a maniac. Tossing anything that wasn’t his on the floor as I went because it was just garbage to me. Until my fingers would brush against the familiar faithful white envelope with all the different colored stamps littering the front of each country it passed through to get to my fingers and I always had the same reaction..
My body would come alive. Like a shot of adrenaline coursing through my veins as I ripped the envelope open (carefully, because I wanted to save each one) and pulled his letter out. My heart pounding against my chest as I made my way to my room and closed the door behind me, locking it and sitting on my bed because I wanted complete silence and no interruptions as I heard from him again. I would read each word long and slow as if it was air for me to breathe. But what an opposite it was for me because the more I read the more my breath would leave me. My lungs would constrict and I would suffocate on the pain of his words. On the loss of his presence. On the emotion of his love. My eyes crying for no good reason other than the fact that I felt his distance a hundred times more every time I heard from him. I would read his letter, sit and digest his words for a moment and then read it again. Filling myself up with as much of him as I could before I put the letter back in its envelope and placed it in my shoe box with the many others. Sealing it away and putting it under my bed because if it was out in the open I knew I would spend my days bent over them. Reading each one over and over again, riddled with self pity and crying for my loneliness. No I wouldn’t let myself do that. He wouldn’t like it. He wanted me to keep living even without him. So I made a deal with myself. I could only read his new letters. Only cry for the time it took me to get through it twice and then I had to put it away and leave it there. Not opening the box again until I received a new one. And that became my ritual. For months I would wait for the mail lady at 11:00 o’clock every morning. For months I would throw the rest of the garbage mail on the floor (Which my roommate Vee was none too happy about). For months I would lock myself in my room and surround myself with his presence. For months I would listen to his day. The training he was doing. The heat that made it hard to breathe. The sand storms that would rock the compound every so often. Sometimes he would mention the mortars that would hit in the distance. The sirens that would wake him in the middle of the night, but he would just skim over those things. Making light of them with words of love and longing. So for months I thought everything was ok. For months I would put his letters in a box and wait for the next one. My ritual in tact. Until.. his letters stopped coming everyday. At first I didn’t think much of it, he was busy of course. I couldn’t expect him to write everyday like I did. At first it was a few letters a week. A few letters every two weeks. A few letters a month.. Each letter getting shorter and less personal. Each letter showing less signs that he missed me. That he still loved me.. Each letter I wrote back asking desperate questions like
Are you ok?
Do you still miss me?
Do you still love me?
His answers never gave me the relief I needed.
“I’m fine. I just have a lot going on. Of course I love you that will never change. Even if I do..”
Sooner than later I found myself breaking my ritual. Breaking my promise. His letters were coming so few and far between that I found myself ripping the lid off my damn shoe box and satiating myself with his old letters. Reading them with a more critical eye and trying to figure out where things changed. Where things went wrong. Holed up in my room more and more and locking the real world out. So much for living.. But even though I was scared and sad and lost I still held onto hope. He was still writing me here and there and that was something. Wasn’t it? Until there were only a couple weeks left for him to return home. A couple weeks of waiting for him to come back to me after these long grueling months. I didn’t even wait for the mail to come any more, it was just disappointing and I’m pretty sure the mail lady was starting to pity me. It’s been so long since I got a letter from him that when my roommate came into my room with a letter in her hand my whole body froze. It was only two weeks for him to get home. Why would he send a letter so soon to his arrival when he knew he would see me in person soon? She handed me the letter with a smile.
“I’m glad I got to the mail first this time. Nice not having to pick my mail up off the floor.”
She laughed but sensing my emotions wiped the smile off her face and gave me a sad look before leaving the room. I waited for her to close the door behind her before sitting on my bed, letter in hand. There was something about this letter that made me feel wrong. A cold feeling growing in the pit of my stomach making me not want to open it but curiosity always wins out and I slowly ripped the envelope open pulling his letter out. I could tell that this letter was different immediately. It was shorter than any of his other letters. Much shorter in fact. Just six lines. Six lines that broke me..
I can’t do this anymore
I want you to have a beautiful life because you are an amazingly beautiful person and deserve the best
And I can’t give that to you
I want you to forget about me and let me go
Because that what I’m doing too
I’m sorry.. goodbye
That was it.
6 lines.
51 words.
202 letters.
That broke my heart.
Shattered me.
A sob broke from my lips that I could no longer hold back. Tears burning my eyes as they poured down my cheeks staining my skin. My roommate opened my bedroom door making me realized how loud I must be falling apart but I couldn’t quiet myself. I couldn’t pull myself together. She came to me, hugging me tightly and trying to soothe someone that could not be soothed..
It took me an entire week to pull myself out of bed. His hurtful letter still in hand now tear stained from me reading it over and over again as I tried to find some hidden message in it that wasn’t there. The only thing that pulled me from my stupor was the fact that in a few more days he would be here. Well not here in this room like I thought he would be.. but home. Close enough for me to go to his door and ask what the hell was going on in person. So I readied myself and focused on the future instead on the painful past. The first thing I did was put that letter away. Even though I didn’t want to put it with the rest of the letters. Even though I wanted to throw it away and forget about it completely. I didn’t. I put it with the rest because that’s where it belonged. It was a part of my memories no matter how far I threw it. The next thing I did was clean myself up. The week long cry fest in bed didn’t do wonders for my appearance and let’s not talk about the lack of hygiene I went through in that time period. A shower did wonders for me and so did a fresh coat of makeup and actually brushing my hair. I almost felt whole again.
Almost..
I marked my calendar for the day of his arrival and went through the motions of life for the days in between. On the day of his arrival every time I walked around a corner or went to a store I swear I thought I would run into him. I didn’t of course and instead of going there the same day I decided to wait one more. He deserved to spend the day with his family before he had to deal with our mess and when there was a knock on my bedroom door that night I swear I must have jumped ten feet and sprinted to the door hoping it would be him. Only to be disappointed by my roommates face.
“I take it from that pout you were expecting someone else.”
I let out a sigh and a pitiful shrug because god I was so pathetic.
“I thought you were going to his house today to confront the ass face?”
“I figured I would give him the day with his parents first.”
“You know you’re too good for him right?”
Again I just shrug and she gave me a short hug before leaving me to my aching heart. The next day I woke up at the crack of dawn. My mind rising before my body knowing that it’s time to get this over with.
Over with?… God I hope not.
It only took me ten minutes to get ready because I already picked out what I was going to wear days ago. The white summer dress I wore the day he told me he loved me for the first time. My hair cascading in loose curls down my back the way he liked it. Pink lip gloss shimmering on my lips. I looked in the mirror and took a breath to steady my nerves. After all this time of waiting for him. Wanting to see him despratly the fear in me is making it hard for me to move even a step towards the door. It took me at least twenty minutes longer then it usually does to get to his house on the simple fact that I only drove thirty the whole way here. When I pull up to his house I almost expect him to be standing there. Waiting for me on his front porch like he knew I would always come.
But he’s not..
And my heart is beating out of my chest as I walk up to the front door and knock. The seconds ticking by like they’re stuck in glue. I’m holding my breath as the door opens and a face greets me but it’s not the face I’m expecting. His mother stands before me all smiles. Of course she’s home its only six in the damn morning no one’s at work yet.. When her eyes take in who it is standing in front of her, her smile falters slightly but she catches herself and quickly pastes it back in place. She begins speaking before I can even say a word.
“I’m sorry sweetheart he’s not here. He decided to cut his trip short. He said he had a lot of things to take care of so he went back to California last night.”
And there it is. The pity in her eyes. She knows..
I turn around and go back to my car without even saying goodbye because really.. what’s the use?
I’m just the girl that her son use to date. Another girl with a broken heart. I’ll never see her again..
My brain isn’t working but somehow I make it home. My body on autopilot as I walk inside the house. My roommate calling to me asking me how it went as I pass her. I don’t respond. I just go straight to my room. Closing the door and crawling on hands and knees to the box under the bed. I pull the top off and lift the box in the air. Flipping it over and watching as hundreds of letters spill out around me. Scattering around a mixed up jumbled mess of empty words and broken promises. It’s a little overwhelming to see them all there like this. So much lost time that I’ll never get back.
I hate it.
I hate him.
Anger bubbles in my chest like a fire starting and it needs a release.
I need a release.
I rummage through my nightstand until I find the lighter I used to light the candles. The candles I use to light for him whenever he laid with me in bed. The candles I use to light for him when I made a special dinner. I rub my thumb on the rough metal grinder and watch as the orange flame comes alive. One hand holding the flame as the other holds a letter. I bring the two closer together. Tears pouring from my eyes threatening to douse the fire out. My finger is burning from holding the flame for so long but I can’t seem to push it any closer to the letter. A sob breaks my lips and I let go of the lighter. Still holding the letter as I fall in on myself. My finger now burned. My confidence burned. My heart burned but the stupid letter is still intact.
I can’t do it..
No matter how much I hate him. No matter how much I hate these words. I can’t get rid of them because even if I do it won’t bring back the time I lost. It won’t burn my memories away. It won’t make it hurt any less..
So I push them all together and throw them back in the box. None to nicely like they once were and I close the lid, sealing this chapter of my life shut and hiding them back under my bed.
Because even though I can’t get ride f them I don’t want to see them anymore..
I kept his letters. Every last damn one of them.
And so there’s a shoebox that hides under my bed
Growing cobwebs and dust and holding the secrets of my past
And I never touch them again
Until one day my past comes back to haunt me..