Spies

If my brothers
and I
were spies,
we’d have the brains,
the brawn, and
the cunning.

Drifter

A drifter
Treating cities like trash
More disposable
Than the paper cup that came with
her morning coffee.

Sights always set
On the next destination.
Nowhere ever good enough.

Big dreamer.
Wanting more for herself,
Never satisfied with what she’s got.

Selfish.

Until he stumbled in,
Her unknowing counterpart.
Attraction was not their first
impression,
Maybe fourth or fifth or so.

The yang to her yin
The calm to her storm
The bees knees as they’d like to say.

Magnetic.
Polar opposites and commonalities.

He became a man,
she found a home.
Nomad no more.

visual-poetry:

»das offene buch« in hünfeld (germany)

Opening day
Lessons
Imagination
Ambition

Energy
Memories
Intoxication
Learning
Youth

Killjoy
Yellow SUV
Lake front
Emily

— Self-Noun Name Game with Kyle and Cash

Suspicious
Talented
Entertaining
Pronounced
Handsome
Emotional-introvert
Numb

Kind
Youthful
Loveable
Engaging

Erotic
Manipulative
Intoxicating
Lustful
Youth-hearted

Original
Lustful
Intoxicating
Accurate

Thoughtful
Admirable
Young-minded
Luscious
Organic
Righteous (biblically)

Courageous
Ambitious
Seductive
Honest

Manipulative
Arbitrary
X-ray
Womanizer
Excuseable
Livable
Lonely

Prepared
Admirable
Tenacious
Riveting
Intelligent
Caring
Kind

— Name Game with Kyle and Cash

Bird

Realizing I will never win
your attention,
But my attraction drives my actions
for you, to you, with you.

Cast aside, flying away
turning a blind eye…
intrigued by the women that pay
their respects, like I do.

The little tid bits of time
you give to me
keep the embers glowing
never letting the fire completely extinguish itself.

I find comfort in another’s embrace
until I can lay back down on your sheets
sharing secrets in the darkness
Only to leave in the dawn
amidst the pinks and yellows of the sunrise,

flying south for the winter,
not returning until the flowers bloom
and the spring showers force us to find refuge beneath your sheets.

The way you smoke
Your cigarette
Is too feminine
And disgusts me.

Your fingers limply cradle,
And your lips purse too much.

Your designer sunglasses
Are a mask,
Which hides your other mask
Of too-cool glares.

With you
There is no commitment
To anything that resembles reality.

Live your fantasy life
Have ambition for unattainable dreams.
Your self passion and ego
Are all you have left.

When letting go becomes an act of self-preservation you should never feel guilty about it. It’s you or them and your emotional and mental stability should trump all else. It will hurt now but one day, maybe not tomorrow or next month but one day, you’ll wake up and realize you’re okay. You’ve overcome this huge emotional hurdle and you deserve several drinks. http://hellogiggles.com/6-signs-its-time-to-let-them-go
Sharing a bathroom: that’s how friends become enemies. — Olia Friedrichs
Gone are the days of tall, dark, handsome men with money and power. Welcome to the new age, where we’re left with the anti-hero, the man-boy who spends his time watching TV or playing video games and waxing emo about how hard his incredibly priveleged life is, and never doing a thing about it. How did we get here? http://hellogiggles.com/you-are-not-nick-miller