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Mollie Smith Poem
I cant get you out of my head.
Its irritating.
Ill go days even weeks with only you bouncing around in my brain.
Playing old memories over again and again
I try, believe me i try
To push you away. Close you out.
But here you stay.
Reminding me, never letting me forget.
The breeze blows by warm and sweet and you appear.
As if the wind had called your name for me.
You overwhelm me, rushing in on me, crashing down on me like a breaking wave.
You tease me in my dreams, only to wake and find your not there
Only a passing moment long lost to the decisions we make.
If only there were a rewind button. A way to go back.....
No. I'm stuck here, in the dark with only an old vision of you.
Mine to keep. These phantoms of the past. So here ill keep the remnants of your ghost.
Here in my head, I'll keep you.
Copyright © Mollie Smith | Year Posted 2011
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Details |
Mollie Smith Poem
this side of the mirror is dark.
no light.
no whisper of warmth from a lamp,
just dark, cold.
this side of the mirror
is damaged, splintered
stained with blood and sweat.
this side of the mirror has eyes of deep forest green
piercing, alluring.
dangerous.
this side of the mirror wants to hurt you
gut you and watch you bleed.
never believe this side of the mirror.
lies, fantasy spills from her lips,
on this side of the mirror.
you should run, run far and never look back.
but you wont.
you need this side of the mirror
Copyright © Mollie Smith | Year Posted 2011
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Details |
Mollie Smith Poem
It starts when i see him
This feeling.
Warmth radiating in my chest
moving about my body.
He comes closer,
My heart skips, lips feel dry
I lick them slowly,
Anticipation.
Close now, his hand reaches out
finger tips brushing gently against my hip,
my body yearns for him.
Shivers run down my back and through my legs,
All consuming desire.
One touch one kiss one taste
never enough.
Beads of sweat fall down my face.
Deep breaths. Slow now.
I'm drowning, in fire so hot so deep
I can no longer see,
only react.
I reach out, we connect
quick deliberate movements
skin pressed against skin
heat rises, then tops.
Over now, these feelings.
Fleeting.
Copyright © Mollie Smith | Year Posted 2011
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