A poem written for the man I will come to love someday

You told me you would be here.

or put my thoughts into words anymore, it seems.

i catch your grace in the palm of my hand. c: read and review!

Just a little compiliations of random little poems I wrote..... Don't let the title fool you, they're not just sappy love poems.

You hear, only what they want you to hear. c: read and review!

hollywood style. c: read and review!

a soontobe collection of words mumbling in the back of my head too short to be qualified as an acutal poem in my book. c: Read and review!

turned down a notch. c: read and review!

love is just a song today. love is just a song" c: read and review!

Does he know what I hope for him?

The sidewalk is narrow, so I'm not standing this close to you on purpose. We're just friends.

don't be overwhelmed, everybody gets one. c: read and review!

just to let you know. c: read and review!

love and lust. c: read and review!

Inspired by the book by John Fowles.

I am standing by the track in the subway, waiting for her to come. She’s late, as usual, but I know that I will get what I want tonight. I always do, even when the girls are like she is.

she can't/won't underestimate him again. c: read and review!

falling short of breath c: read and review!

It's just an asphalt accident, dear. c: read and review.

and all stays the same. c: read and review!

The soulmate.

we're tempting fate again, because giving life could ultimately take another.

Hold up your hopes, and keep 'em held high. Paybacks a ... READ AND REVIEW !

but my thoughts are multi-colored images of rain, peanut butter and sex appeal.

cold and dark red. god i'm scared.

Inspired by Helen Hoyt's "Memory." A short narrative on how a love past cannot be let go of.

He said, "You taste like...pain," and she couldn't deny it. Oneshot, complete.

She hung herself in her silence and swung by the rope of her own blank stare.

to lessen the hurt. spelling error: "dream" was to be "dreamt"

another attempt at poetry. R&R please!

and we played in your coal mines until our hands turned black, traces of my palm like a map down your back.

Rhyming. I am number one, and I look out for me -- don't give me that face, you don't have to agree.

Rhyming. Our rendezvous safe beneath an alibi, I lock the door firmly and give this a try. Probably a little disturbing.

They're not in love with each other, they're in love with themselves. And that's the biggest tragedy they'll ever have to learn to comprehend.

...cover yourself in lies.

Write the song here, so we can both listen.

I just sat down and wrote this out of nowhere. When i was done, I was crying and i don't know why...

those tattoos on her hands only -look- like scars.

random. eh.

She'll kiss you in that makebelieve way you can't help but fall down down down.

Let's all listen to societies sermon, don't forget to take notes.

three cuts of poetry.