Sometimes I can't stand how I love you. All of me wild, deep, desperate I am yours, don't you know?

Sharing poems & thoughts, one redacted word at a time.
Sometimes I can't stand how I love you. All of me wild, deep, desperate I am yours, don't you know?

I have to write with all my love.

The Picasso of my soul was love. The girl I love.

His name shot off mental anguish, and the realization, he was my demon.

On the porch laughing in my arms, flashes of her smile - and kissing at midnight.

I want twisting, burning love, like madness.

I found him as beautiful as a dream. My head ran from morning til night. Ah, the poetry I'd written.

I'm a scatterbrain. I struggle - knowing I'm losing love.

Eternally secluded I felt impossible to connect, but I am surrounded with ordinary faces, with the resemblance of the ghost of my love, these thoughts a constant torment and monomania.

When you grow older you'll understand the secret to make life succeed. Know what I know-- feel yourself alive every minute of the day.
