Amatory

Scars, darling it’s scars in the lech, the dazzling sharp-edged light in the desire, we both know you’ve broken the hold

You’ve been too tired to see, you’ve been blinded by jealousy, I’ve been way too lecherous, fighting for the unknown certainty

You are what you be, what you wanna be, I am whatever you want me to see, it’s lustful love, it’s love with tasty lust

Sterilized the sins by innocent smiles on your lips, love still exists, affection is defined well

We’ve been trading secrets and we’ve been together on one-way street to the moon, we got our path

Enslaved by the truths, intoxicated by the stories of our own, distance doesn’t matter anymore, we’ve been out of sight to stay closer

Look up, what do you see? At least I know no one’s gonna look down on you, no one will despise me anymore

No one’s blaming, it’s been inducing laughter and releasing pain, I wake up this morning with the thoughts of wild desires

Pink lipstick on your lips, jelly-tasty sticky lips, temptation overflows, at least you know how to control your emotion

Delighted by your steady beating heart, you’re finally assured, and nothing’s left for me to ask

Lecherous sweet desire within a broken-hearted who’s been sharing dreams and selling secrets

Night is young and we keep on trading smiles for the sake of  trust, truth, and love

Desire arranges multiple ways to express itself.. the least object, to which no particular symbolic role is assigned, is able to represent anything. The mind is wonderfully prompt at grasping the most tenuous relation that can exist between two objects taken at random, and poets know that they can always, without fear of being mistaken, say of one thing that it is like the other.. Whether in reality or in the dream [desire] is constrained to make the elements pass through the same network: condensation, displacement, substitution, alteration.
—  Andre Breton, L'Amour fou (Mad Love), 1937
I’ve spilled so many of my thoughts on paper after midnight.
You’ve been orbiting around my mind but I swear sometimes it feels like you’re the world and I’m just lost in space.
I have to admit that deep down I’m scared.
There’s something stalker-like about regret, it always seems to find me somehow, always lurking on the corner My Relationships and Actually Trying.
I don’t want to feel like I’ve wasted ink writing you poetry in the form of letters and notes describing how your mind is such a wonderful vacation spot.
I don’t want to look at the clock while seconds, minutes and hours of my life pass me by questioning why we no longer speak.
I don’t want to spend my nights rereading our conversations and trying to pinpoint the exact point you lost interest in understanding me.
Or worse, remembering when you still were interested.
I don’t want to regret you.
I hope you prove me wrong.
I hope you’re not like the others.
—  maxwelldpoetry, “Regret”
When A Man Sighs

When a man sighs
It is not a sign of weakness
No, it is just the longing of a heart
Trying to be patient
As the world revolves around him
Yet, he waits in silence
For the love burning inside
To respond to his silent sigh
With a smile
Or random phone call
With acceptance of flaws
And patience for the moment
Not rushing into the future
Not rushing into the fire
Just allowing the flames to reach higher
In the darkness of the night
As the stars and sighs collide
When lovers embrace
Tears, loneliness, and pain subside
So when a man sighs
It is not a sign of weakness
It is just his way of speaking
When all words seem to disappear

Indeed, I would love to climb on top of you, generating the ultimate road trip but I rather make your mind orgasm first. You desire my body while I fantasize about becoming your perfect object of obsession. Granted, we both have needs that can’t be denied but is it memorable without sentimental intimacy? By all means, keep kissing me, keep touching me, and keep studying my psyche. Let that flourish into you memorizing the days I taste the sweetest and my need to feel you the deepest. Can we do something different, can we explore each other’s soul, can we merge our complicated worlds, can we fall in love?
I ate my wishes and swallowed my dreams. 
Now all I hear are their silent screams. 
They wish to escape and work their way out 
but that’s just something I can’t allow. 
Fears have overcome the desire for success 
I’m too much of a coward to take take chances, I guess.
 But what is life if you live it in the dark?
 With the shadows of what you could have been, engrained in the walls as a constant remark 
telling you that things could be better if you just fed your soul and catered to your heart.
 I have refused to listen for so long. 
But now I’m thinking, maybe I should start.

There’s a certain restlessness in me that crave to wander
through the pile of multilayer and diverse color
through the sea of unstructured form

A part of me that loves the mess and boisterousness
that wallows in the paint, tone,shade,and rhythm
that lives for the book, art, and wonder

A part of me that could not be tamed, could not be appeased
It’s the part of me that I would never trade for anything

—  el-sky