21 Nov 2020
by Toasha
in desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, Poetry, sorrow
Tags: pain, poem, Poetry, sadness, sorrow
You made me whole again and savage
Drowning in your mouth while I tried to breathe
We were unassailable in our belief
Thought our love immortal and flawless
The end came surreptitiously and with force
My anguish clouded all pretense of repair
You left without notice in the night
As I slept like an unaware child
There will always be a version of me
Raw and open when I think of us
Part of me will always be looking for you
In the dark bar, the coffee shop
Around the corner of my end days
Grey haired and wrinkled, waiting
Searching
For you
11 Apr 2020
by Toasha
in bliss, deceit, desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, Uncategorized, writing
Drink me. The note was inconspicuous
I tasted the remnant of you
My tongue was not certain of familiarity
I wiped my mouth and glanced furtively
The room was full of versions of you and I
I cried into an empty goblet
Of pride and caresses
You grinned malevolently
As I scrabbled for purchase
In this destination of what we were
While I kissed that chasm that
Was us
05 Mar 2020
by Toasha
in bliss, desire, lost, love, pain, Poetry, Uncategorized, writing
Tags: pain, poem, Poetry, sadness, sorrow, talk, trickery
I was not able to capture
The piece of you I coveted
You shimmered in the distance with a guileful smile
Your nonchalant air made me feel safe
When I cast my yearning into your ears
You pushed me away just far enough
That I felt dizzy and afraid of the loss
And then you pulled me back to kiss my neck
While you whispered in my ear
That my desire was too enveloping
For your rasputin soul to accept
I trembled in anticipation of your touch
And heard you sigh
16 Sep 2018
by Toasha
in bliss, desire, lost, love, Poetry, Uncategorized, writing
We are but a fantasy
A charade of desire and wet dreams
I created this world
The one only you and I endure in
It is laced with salacity
And the imagined taste of you
I lay my head on my pillow
Attempting to sleep to sojourn
To where we remain alone free of encumbrance
That place where your kisses are unrecompensed
The corner where I can have you inside me
Without guilt or thought of betrayal
I drift off but awake violently
To you gazing at me as you slide inside
This version of me that exists
Only for you
16 Sep 2018
by Toasha
in bliss, desire, lost, love, pain, Poetry, sorrow, Uncategorized, writing
It’s only a game she whispered
As I sat shivering on her back porch
The sky dappled with stars
My heart still carrying a perpetual torch
Her breath smelled of mint
Her skin was smooth and slightly damp
I trembled when she turned and brushed against me
Leaving her undeniable stamp
I tried to run away but only reached her gate
She was there waiting with a smile
I sighed and reached out to touch her
She laughed and said stay a while
I suddenly became frightened and felt a bit lost
She took my hand and led me inside
Up the stairs to her room in the attic
I remembered the last time when I had laid in her bed and cried
The door shut behind us and all was ablaze
I couldn’t see anything but her outline in the heat
My intake of air resounded in the small room
I realized it was her game and I had been beat
I acquiesced to her gentle kisses
Not realizing the pain I felt when she wrapped around me
I began to comprehend that this was the end
She told me to sleep and I knew I was finally free
11 Oct 2016
by Toasha
in deceit, desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, Poetry, sorrow, writing
Our love it was corrupted
From the first kiss
I believed us divine
Otherworldly and blessed
The follies of inscience
I invoked complete adoration
Like a simple woman with no thought
Unknowingly tempting fortune
For you were not that
The one who would encompass me
In the folds of adoration
You were existing only for pleasure
And my belief in more
Exhausting me and rendering me
Ineffectual and insipid
Like a child begging for love
Asking for the arms that never existed
So I fly away to that place
Where I leave my irrational desires
I projected your way
So I can shed my need for something abysmal
And acquiesce to a lesser existence
Where you do not know me and
I am not myself
Yet you feel I belong to you
Never knowing the authentic me
Has been lost in my desire
For more
08 Oct 2016
by Toasha
in bliss, desire, love, Poetry, writing
How did the world exist
Before you
Before your lips touched mine
Before our hearts intertwined
Forming one
It beats in tandem and sometimes
Stops
When we are too far apart
Wanting to be closer
Needing us to touch so
It can resume its rhythm
That cadence that is our song
It plays in my soul
That part of me who has always
Known you
We have been in love for millenniums
In other lives we met
Sometimes taking longer to
Remember our love
But then that spark, that touch
That anamnesis
And I look in your eyes and
Apperceive you
My kindred spirit
My one true love
My soul mate
And I am finally
Home
04 Oct 2016
by Toasha
in deceit, desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, Poetry, Uncategorized
The weary traveler
Came to me cotton-mouthed and hungered
Asking for the map
I gave him sustenance
Nothing more
He asked me to reconsider
Pleaded his case
Said he needed the diagram
To get to his destination
I hesitated knowing
He knew not what he was seeking
Yet his eyes, the beseeching gleam
I could not resist
And I produced the coveted sketch
His fingers clutched it longingly
Making me feel at the moment
I had chosen befittingly
He left to continue on his quest
I decorously felt noble on his leave
And continued about my daily routine
Only to have the fowl who delivers word
Drop the memoir of his voyages
Which contained his confession
Of the loss of that which he sought
His destination was never realized
He was lost along the way
When he failed to note
All the road signs
I had left
Silly wayfarer
Even more ludicrous
Me
22 Sep 2016
by Toasha
in deciet, desire, lost, love, pain, Poetry, Uncategorized
This savage feeling for you
Homicidal
Murderous
Passionate
Uncontrollable
Desperate
Disturbed
Riotous
Driving me mad
Making me incoherent
This thing I feel
This is violent
22 Sep 2016
by Toasha
in bliss, deciet, desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, sorrow, writing
You would perhaps think that I am someone who you can learn from. That I know things others do not. That I am the bearer of some knowledge in an ancient urn that only I can open.
I am not.
Perhaps I will recite a parable to teach you right from wrong. You may sit in rapt attention with your face turned up towards the sky. The sun might dapple your skin in a myriad of light that hurts me to look at.
Or I won’t.
You would perhaps dream that I love you. That my body entwines with yours when no one is looking. That I will stare into your eyes and say I am yours. That my sighs will contain only your name.
They will not.
Perhaps I will hurt you. Wound you with my sadistic words. Eloquently break you with my prose as you lament the pain. Smile slyly when your tears fall on my pillow as you lay on my bed.
I will.
So perhaps you should run. Find a place to hide that does not fall within my sights. Sleep with a gun in your hand and one eye open. Research ways to kill without being caught. Decide how I will die.
You should.
Perhaps this will be futile. Your efforts to escape my clutches will be ineffective. Your heart will betray you as it floats into my greedy hands. You will not notice until much too late that I am the one who possesses you.
Perhaps.
20 Sep 2016
by Toasha
in desire, lost, love, Poetry, sorrow, writing
Your words
Your pledges
They do not alter
My reality
I am God
I am omnipotent
I frolic in your
Ignorance
I know you
Yet
You do not
Know
Me
19 Sep 2016
by Toasha
in bliss, desire, lost, love, Poetry, Skin
That moment when you breathe
Your intake of air I can hear
Our eyes meet
Our fingertips touch imperceptibly
I feel your fervor
We move through the crowd
Eyes meeting at intervals and
With the beat of my
Lascivious heart
Alone in a corner touching my face
You whisper I am the death of you
Your hand on my waist sliding lower
Your fingers touching that spot
Only we know
I cannot remember a time
I did not crave this
You
Me
And the cavernous want
That has rendered me
Useless
Hungry
Yours
01 Sep 2016
by Toasha
in bliss, desire, lonely, love, pain, Poetry, Skin, Uncategorized, writing
Forbidden and disproved
That is what the google search says
About us
Disapproved, unmentionable, prohibited
Are we unthinkable?
I shall close my eyes
Ignore the words
Only feel
When we finally touch I shall know
Appreciate, comprehend, perceive
You
If only for a breath
A moment
That crack in eternity
When you feel
Me
18 Mar 2016
by Toasha
in bliss, desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, Poetry, Skin, sorrow, writing
Vocabulary typed in small boxes
Linked to one another via emoticons
Small thoughts somehow connected
Representing who we are
Or who we wish to be
I shall chatter to you
Inanely hoping for recognition
For you to perceive that part of me
That yearns for your apperception
Your acknowledgment of clandestine ideations
I formulate in the eleventh hour of my fortuitous dreams
Of you and I
In palpable actuality
Touching our fingertips
Your lips
On my lonely cheek
My sighs escaping into this quiet landscape
Slowly I have come to rest
In that place between here and there
Where I sit in my rowboat under the stars
Watching the waves of you dissipate
As I wish for more
19 Feb 2016
by Toasha
in bliss, deceit, desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, Poetry, sorrow, Uncategorized, writing
These word of imprudence
That assault my sentient heart
It cannot fathom your antipodal sounds
Emanating slowly in an exquisite shower
Into my fathomless observation
Rendering me useless and diminutive
Changing me, a metamorphosis
An affliction not carried by anyone
Except the version of me
Who invariably acquiesces
To your adversarial articulation
Of these foreign words
23 Nov 2014
by Toasha
in bliss, desire, love, pain, Poetry, writing
An addict
The world cannot see this furious need
It finds me in the middle of the day
Renders me useless
Makes me want to find
Isolated alleys and abandoned bathrooms
So I can roll up my sleeve
Tighten the tourniquet
Feel the needle against my skin
Only when I feel that rush can I show the public
Some semblance of my sober face
This drug it is insidious
It crept up on me
I was unsuspecting
I didn’t know
Even though I feel it is wrong I do not want to quit
It exalts me
Makes me feel omnipotent
Superior
So I shall hide again
Tap my vein
Prepare my concoction
I devise a stratagem for us to meet
Our lips shall touch again
I shall feel the rush
The surge of emotion
My hovering heart above every other need
You are my drug
My chosen poison
The dope that has wrought this change
From rational to senseless
Unable to function without another
Fix
17 Nov 2014
by Toasha
in bliss, deceit, desire, love, pain, Poetry, Skin
Strange
That is what they would say
They would scowl at us
Their disaproval apparent
On the spurious faces
They submit for our perusal
Laugh
That is what I would do
As I kiss you with abandon
In crowded rooms
And public venues surrounded by affectations
Those who would cast the first stone
Smile
That is what you would do
As you cup my chin in your beautiful hand
And tell me enchanting tales
To assuage my worry
And unfurrow my silly brow
Love
That is what we would have
And our adoration would spill over
Make others uncomfortable in the presence
Of such intense need
Radiant devotion they have never known
And most likely
Never will
10 Mar 2014
by Toasha
in bliss, deciet, desire, lost, love, pain, Poetry, Skin, sorrow, writing
Peel me
Like a banana
An orange
A kiwi
Some multi-colored fruit
My skin is tough
It may be sour if your
Tongue flicks out to taste me
But underneath
That is where my sweetness hides
Even as I ask for the kindness
Of your gentle fingers
Tugging at my tightly woven sheath
I envisage this attempt to expose
Will be nothing but a serrated knife
Cutting deep inside me
For you have no patience
And you are greedy
03 Mar 2014
by Toasha
in bliss, deceit, desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, Poetry, Skin, sorrow, writing
This musician, he has many claims
His fingers promise he recognizes my instrument
Perhaps he knows my heart is a violin, although out of tune
It can still emit a euphony of sorrow
If his bow is strong enough to thrust across my rusty strings
Or can he see my stomach is a cello?
That if he holds me between his knees
And attempts double stops on my flesh while I smother a giggle
He may just fashion a masterpiece
Does he perceive that my ribs are a piano?
Meant to play a concerto of lament when I am distracted by the salmon sunset
He asserts that if I just submit
He shall compose a symphony
Full of my remorse and discarded love
I duck my head in acquiescence
Knowing full well that his attempts at perfection
Will be thwarted by my never-ending
Inability to be in tune
28 Feb 2014
by Toasha
in bliss, deciet, desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, Poetry, sorrow, writing
It was this
It was that
It was those
It was things
It was there
It was thrills
It was throbs
It was more than
It was thankful
It was thoughtful
It was theoretic
It was theatrical
It was thirsty
It was thawed
It was thwarted
It was thievery
It was threadbare
It was threats
It was thrown
It was through
It was then
And I am alone
17 Feb 2014
by Toasha
in bliss, deceit, desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, Poetry, sorrow, writing
The day I experimented with the ability to see
It was like any other
The hands of the clock moved ever forward
Proving time was slipping
I removed the glasses I was told I needed
I rubbed my eyes in irritation
Closed them for a bit to entertain the idea
That upon opening it would happen
It did not
This attempt to view the world uncluttered
To look about with abandon
This was only a miscarriage of endeavors
To exist as more than a moment
No longer a sum of the parts that make up
That which I deemed the now
I encountered a temporal plane of despair
Baggage left behind by others
Half packed luggage full of sorrow and tears
It is ill-advised to fold anything
These garments that cover others with guilt
They look tattered and ancient
I can easily discern the authenticity
Of these banal sneakers
If I were to don them and attempt to run
I am sure I would fall
Scraping my hands on the jagged pieces
Of my broken heart
My attempt to see was futile, trite
I have resolved the terminal legitimacy
It is consummately better to be blind
Than to see
11 Feb 2014
by Toasha
in deciet, desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, Poetry, sorrow, writing
This alabaster scape blinds me
Renders my eyes ineffectual
My pace is sluggish as the icy flurry
It encompasses my being and creates a reality where there is only me
And the clamor of my ruminations
This ideation of amorous passions leaving a memorialized view of what was
And a taste of bitter contrition in this mouth that once uttered discourses
That this fatuous woman conceived to be truth
This wintry world
It numbs me
And congeals your name on my lips
So that it is able to tumble to the ground where it is camouflaged by the snow
Lost to me
And I do not recall how it used to sound when I whispered it in your ear
I cry glacial tears
As I endeavor to make a snow angel
Knowing that this frozen terrain will soon soothe me to sleep
Where I wish with all my might
That I shall not dream
06 Feb 2014
by Toasha
in deceit, lonely, lost, love, pain, Poetry, Skin, sorrow, writing
The force of you
It rendered me useless
Incapacitated and wondering
If your puissance was indeed you
Or some otherworldly malaise
Infecting my bloodstream
With your malevolent contagion
I shall attempt to inoculate my veins
Replace your corruption with luminosity
This needle will pierce my skin
The plunger pushed vehemently
It will leave a bruise
To remind me of your gift
Of necrotic affection
27 Jan 2014
by Toasha
in deceit, desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, Poetry, sorrow, Uncategorized, writing
This mirror is full of another
A lonely reflection
A girl with dreams and youth
Someone who had hope
Who aspires to be someone else
Curling her hair anticipating change
Only to raise her eyes to see this
The version of me who imagines
Delusions of an existence of bliss
She shall change her appearance
Perhaps cut an errant curl
Use a different shade of eyeliner
Brush on her blush with a bold stroke
Turn her back on that silly girl
Attempting to run to another reality
The one where she is strong
A heroine in flowing black
Her sword cutting a sliver of hate
Into the hearts of those who dare
To attempt to touch her heart
She looks up to see
She is still me
And she utters a curse under her breath
To all those who cannot see
14 Jan 2014
by Toasha
in deceit, desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, Poetry, sorrow, Uncategorized, writing
If time folded at my supplication
You should be an envelope full of words of yearning
The discourse of your salacity for my flesh in your hands
I will dispatch into the universe
Hoping a worm hole will devour and spit you out
Forming a new macrocosm where I am God
And you but a canker
An affliction that begs destruction
I shall smite you
You shall cower covered in the dialect
You once knew as your own
Only to see armies rise up
To destroy your misrepresentation
There will be no cross for you
You are no savior
You are but a blemish
Upon any world
You choose to inhabit
Your beseeching to me
Your god
Will go unheard
As I move onto another
More interesting endeavor
19 Aug 2013
by Toasha
in bliss, deceit, desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, Poetry, sorrow, writing
My love is made of sticks
Placed in careful succession
Joints fragile because of the diminutive size
I invented this amorous beau
To fulfill my irrational longing
He moves like an old man
Achingly reaching for my hand
I smile furtively with my malevolent mouth
Ducking my head in feigned innocence
When he tries to kiss me
My wooden love
He knows not what he has stumbled upon
As he gazes into my wicked eyes with devotion
I don’t look as I crush his ligneous bones
I hear not his cries of torment
I will be the one to offer my comfort
In the form of glue and soft words
And he will worship me as his savior
As I prepare to destroy him again
13 Jul 2013
by Toasha
in bliss, desire, lost, love, pain, Poetry, writing
To answer your query
I do not believe in love
The years have shown me it is but an idea
A poem, a song, a painting
A caricature of that we all wish for
Something not real
I can weave you a web of words
Designed to make you feel
You may presume this emotion love
But I will tell you
It is not genuine
A release of endorphins
An intake of breath
A dream you have as a child
A fairy tale
For I can say with certainty
That every time you conceive it true
You shall find yourself at some point in time
Remembering that feeling, yearning for it
As you look at your lover
Seeing the true light play on their face
Their absolute reality
Love?
A beautiful dream
But nothing more
09 Jul 2013
by Toasha
in bliss, deceit, desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, Poetry, Skin, sorrow, writing
You can call me moronic and laugh at my ineffective attempts to stay
You can sweep my tears under the rug we wove together that summer
When you still loved me
We can dance together in the dark, cheeks pressed tightly
The sound of your breath a sweet reminder of what was
Apprehensive the lights will blaze
Revealing we don’t really know how to dance together anymore
Terrified our farce will be found out
I feel a tear slip off my cheek onto yours
I inherently know your tongue will slip out to taste my sorrow
You once told me I tasted like some beautiful dream
As your mouth traversed the contours of this body
That was once possessed by your now fraudulent affections
I pull away and disappear into the dark
I hear you call my name
But just once, oh so softly
As if you don’t really want me to hear
I escape into the night and run quick and blind
From what used to be
30 Jun 2013
by Toasha
in bliss, desire, love, Poetry, writing
You look good on paper
An almost perfect match
The words chronicle this
Hero to my heroine
I devour the declarations
My eyes tired and scratchy
From straining to see your adoration
The ink has dried but I prefer
To imagine it flowing from the tip of your pen
As you press quite hard on the paper
Regaling me with your tales
Of love
Your desire
This insane need
For me
My brow furrows in disconcertment
As the logical me
Realizes these utterances
Are nothing more
Than just that
Words
I sigh and lift my eyes
To the night sky
As I dream of how good
You look on paper
18 Jun 2013
by Toasha
in bliss, deceit, desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, Poetry, Skin, sorrow, writing
My hands frighten me
Because they can feel
I discover with these
Dainty fingers
Touch things oh so lightly
And shiver at the thought
That perhaps
They will again
Dance across your skin
Notice the feeling
Of your stubble
Under their sensitive tips
Perhaps they will cradle
That beating betrayer
That pumps blood
Through your
Deceitful veins
I may die a little death
If I am allowed this pleasure
Although I am fairly certain
These hands
They will never know
How to hold you
Again
17 Jun 2013
by Toasha
in desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, Poetry, sorrow, writing
The wind in my hair and
My forlorn hope
That these ghostly fingers
Can lick my cares away
This open cut
I know you aren’t here
But I feel you
I try to forget
But the memory holds fast
Enduring want
This animosity for you
I loathe that I care
I shall drive faster
Hope for reprieve
And perhaps a chance
To again feel
For something
That is not you
08 Jun 2013
by Toasha
in bliss, desire, love, pain, Poetry, Skin, writing
The smell of cigarettes
And atramentous rooms
Full of lonely souls
Reminds me of you
Your sly smile
The way you breathe me in
You hands on my skin
Your breath on my neck
Our lips touching
A languid escape
A taste of empyrean bliss
It intoxicates me how you
Desire this
Your abiding longing
Your intense need
For me
07 Jun 2013
by Toasha
in deceit, desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, Poetry, sorrow, writing
Of landlines
Not knowing if the call came
Apprehensive conjecture
About if you tried
To contact me across these miles
My absurd longing for you
I am damaged
Mangled beyond recognition
At the thought of your voice
Saying my name
And abolishing this contemptible
Compulsion to have but a morsel
Of your mendacious heart
28 May 2013
by Toasha
in deceit, desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, Poetry, sorrow, writing
I tried
That I can say with the utmost
Certainty
And you
You did nothing but leave
No words
No love
Why did I squander my affections
On something
So useless?
The clouds always part to show
The sunshine
Beauty and warmth
But your cold disdain
Leaves me
Always lamenting
No matter how ardent
The sun’s rays
I still feel a chill
I still hope
Wishing is absurd
My furtive whispers
Still travel across the skies
Unheard
For I am mute in my pain
And you oblivious
There was never a we
Only you and I
And my facetious belief
In love
26 May 2013
by Toasha
in deciet, desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, Poetry, sorrow, writing
These tears
They make me angry
Make me want to give myself a lecture
About the uselessness of sorrow
Tell myself that this saltiness
Only tastes good on fried foods
And popcorn
My tears make me feel weak
They make me wish for invincibility
They make me wish for you
That desire makes me furious
I want to shake myself
Tell myself I am being ridiculous
But instead I let them fall
And watch them collect on my lap
On my cheeks
In my heart
These tears
They shall be the death of this pain
Or at least I can wish for that
As I cry
Like a child without his favorite blanket
Or a clown without his smile
These tears will make me strong
Or at least that is what I tell myself
As I cry and wish
For sleep
22 May 2013
by Toasha
in deceit, desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, Poetry, sorrow, writing
Obviously your errant belief that I have some semblance of affection
Has made you a fool
Your narcissistic face turns to those who bombard you with words
Those sounds that emanate from the vocal cords
Of people who you assume care
Your countenance brightens at the thought of admiration
A cunning smile curves your lips
As you exult in approbation
Perhaps you should look behind you at the specter hovering
The one you don’t recognize as me
Dark and quiet and diminutive
For as you laze in the spotlight of your imagined grandeur
I shall slip closer with my dark animosity
And I shall snuff your light
I shall be your murky night abundant with amorphous clouds of memories
Of the time you assumed
You were adored
I shall fill your sunshine with rotten nightmares full of torture
Frighten you with the thought
That perhaps you were wrong
This assumption that I would always love your exaggerated sense of self
This postulation that my heart was yours
As you twist and turn in the impenetrable vision
Desirous of a glimpse of the beauty you once held when you had me
Only then will you see
You are alone
You will not be left with the residual ghost of me
Just a hint of my perfume
A memory of my soft skin
And an endless desire
For that which
You can never possess again
14 May 2013
by Toasha
in deciet, lost, love, pain, Poetry, sorrow, writing
I shall perform this surgery, this cutting, this excising of something unwanted
I will wield the scalpel
The cuts will be detailed, careful, beautiful in the way they cause blood to well
I am your surgeon
This work will be performed with precision, sweat on my brow, eyes sharply focused
I will not make a mistake
This tumor will be removed, placed in a pan, red under the bright lights
I am proud of my art
This stitch will run smoothly, closing up your wound, sealing it tightly
I see it will leave barely a scar
This is how you shall awake, alone, cold, naked, shivering on stainless steel
Realizing that now there is nothing
Where your heart used to be
This will be when you cry, beg for me to put it back in, pray for its return
I have done my job well
Unfortunately I cannot repair what I see as
Perfection
13 May 2013
by Toasha
in bliss, deciet, desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, Poetry, sorrow, writing
You say it is our song
The strains reach my ear
I close my eyes
I feel your music
It reaches that part of me
I have long forgotten
That part I hide from those
Who have tried to dive
Inside me
I feel your breath in my ear
As you whisper the words
My soul longs to devour
I cry a little as I push you
Far away from me
For even though your melody
Pleases me so
I do not want this ballad
To penetrate that part of me
That renders me insane
07 May 2013
by Toasha
in deceit, desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, Poetry, sorrow, writing
When you fell out of the tree
I laughed
Not caring that you had broken
Your ankle
Or that you forehead was cut
I laughed because your pain
Made me feel better
Your grimace made me realize
I am whole
I am not broken
I am not bleeding
I rejoice in your injury
I shall skip home
And eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich
With no crusts
While I cut out paper dolls
I will not think of you
Nor will I tell my mother
That you need help
I hope you cry
You are not my friend
You never loved me
I will look out the window
And dream of summer nights
Games of kick the can
Even as I sit here this evening
An adult with wrinkles
And messy hair
Realizing that my fantasy
Of happy childhood
And some sort of twisted revenge
Will help me sleep
A smile on my face
If only for tonight
And in my dreams
You will fall again
02 May 2013
by Toasha
in deceit, desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, Poetry, sorrow, writing
Somewhere
Under all these dirty clothes
And some old ballet flats
Is the part of me
That used to be yours
It is ugly
It makes me feel a bit sick
I cover it up with a sock
The pink one with no match
And a hole
It makes me feel strong
Even as my cheeks become wet
With the tears that I thought
Had completely been lost
I spin in circles until I am dizzy
I fall drunkenly to the floor
The glimpse of pink
Out of the corner of my eye
Makes me sleepy
I hate you
And that part of me
That used to be yours
01 May 2013
by Toasha
in bliss, desire, love, pain, Poetry, Skin, writing
This twist of my appendage
This change in my stance
It has caused a denial
A death
I shall knit a story
With my dreamy yarn
And you shall wear it
On your head
Take my hand and squeeze
I need to feel something
Make me cringe in a bit of pain
Hurting is not always bad
The small kiss planted
On the corner of my wanton mouth
Makes me smile a bit
I think I like you
More than I anticipated
I smile into the dark
I perhaps smell your skin
And I shall sleep well
In my bed of what ifs
And maybes
16 Apr 2013
by Toasha
in bliss, deceit, desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, sorrow, writing
It shall forever be known that I am an idiot. I live in a world of wonder. A world of happy ever after and evil demons. I live in something “not real”. At times life likes to peel back the blanket I have flung over my head to taunt me with the “real” world I am missing outside. I quickly clutch the edges and burrow deeper, not wanting to see. This real world is not something my eyes can adjust to. It is not something I wish to live in. I choose castles and fairies and dragons. I choose goblins with axes dripping in blood. I choose evil forces that live and breathe and know my name. I want a prince. I want a glass slipper. In real life the glass slipper would most likely break into a thousand pieces and would cut my foot. In my world it slips on and looks beautiful and I dance all night. Real life is shit. Real life makes me sad and lonely. I do not like the trials and tribulations of real life. They do not end in happy ever after or with a treasure trove of gold. They end in a lesson learned, character built, a stronger you. I do not want this real life. I want adventures that end in magnificence. I want to talk to the animals. I want to fly. I want to wave a wand and have magic occur. I choose this life of idiocy. I choose to pretend. For what kind sir is my alternative? Ugly reality and mortal death. So I shall sprinkle myself with fairy dust and I shall fly away to Never Never Land. I shall never grow up. And I shall be supremely happy in my idiotic bliss.
04 Apr 2013
by Toasha
in bliss, deceit, desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, Poetry, sorrow, writing
You said love
I listened with
Rapt silence
Ears open
And eyes closed
You told me
Stories of us
Memories of the past
Things I cherished
I thought you real
I felt your touch
Imagined you perfect
But I realize
In the light of day
You are not alive
You are pain
You are sorrow
You are my death
You are the end
I innocently believed
You my savior
I am ridiculous
In the shadow
Of the love
I thought perfect
I sigh and accept
The end of us
The end of me
I will take
My last breath
As you laugh
And paint a new picture
Of love
For another
Innocent soul
02 Dec 2012
by Toasha
in bliss, desire, lost, love, Poetry, Skin, writing
The minstrel looks at me
From under the brim of his hat
As he strums his guitar
With sensitive fingertips
I see an errant curl on his forehead
Reach up to touch it as I whisper
Into the curve of his ear
He smiles at me slyly
His lips a promise of something
I instinctively want to lean closer
But the room is full of others
And I think him a bit shy
He sings his song slowly
His mouth like a caress on the mike
And I close my eyes
Perhaps I will someday be the instrument
The one he strokes to emit ballads
My moans music to his artistic appreciation
The curve of my cheek
But a note waiting to be transposed
My shudders eliciting a refrain
For a new melody
All the while sitting in this crowded room
Wanting
And just for now I listen
And he sings
02 Dec 2012
by Toasha
in deceit, desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, Poetry, sorrow, writing
If I were to form your betrayal
Into something palpable
It should be black
Oozing pus and ugly
Attempting to speak but unable
Because of its disfigured mouth
I could glare at it and feel anger
Maybe step on it with the heel of my boot
Laughing in contentment
At the howl of pain
Instead there is nothing
Just this feeling of sorrow
And these memories of you
Things I would love to
Glare at or hurt
I can do nothing but feel
Try to forget
You, your lies, and my silly,
Ridiculous
Belief in love
07 Oct 2012
by Toasha
in bliss, desire, lonely, lost, love, pain, sorrow, writing
It could be said that he was shy. Some might think him a bit conceited, perhaps too smart. His friends laugh at him; his acquaintances feel a bit intimidated. He is a man who I could fall in love with. He is also a man who I could hate. At one point I was infatuated, and then I was disinterested. He seems too full of himself, yet when I look closer I realize he is someone who doesn’t really think himself impressive. We share the same interests, but not the same desire. At one point I imagined him inside me, filling me up and making me into something that was not entirely real. Then I realized this longing was but a figment of some dream I had created. I had him try out for the part of my lover and then I realized he was not right. He didn’t quite fit. He has fantasies of perfection. He doesn’t see that this is not an attainable state. His wants are not probable, too far from reality to ever come to fruition. I don’t tell him this because I don’t like to disturb his illusions. We skip through the streets, laughing and full of whimsical thoughts. Drunk on the idea of something perfect. I look at the stars and tell him of my aspirations. He laughs at me, almost condescending, but then I see his eyes and know he doesn’t mean it. He has a gentle side. He loves animals, lesser creatures that don’t make him feel beholden. I tell him perhaps he lives in yesterday and his wrinkled brow makes me retract my brash statement as I figuratively brush his errant hair from his brow. He smiles and his eyes twinkle. I cannot let this minimize the fact that he does not want me. Although I think perhaps I still fancy him, I know this is but an idea that my romantic heart has brought forth to detract me from the fact that my life is not what I want. We drink and toast our independence. All the while wishing that we had more. He says he doesn’t care that he is alone. He is strong, stalwart, able to brave the cold winds of isolation without a care. I feel the shudder of abandoned dreams, but shrug it off in my brave stance of autonomy. He is still handsome, his lips a promise of something sweet and unknown. I turn my eyes away even as I tease him with words of seduction and promises of ecstasy. He laughs at me, sure in his knowledge that I am not what he yearns for. I laugh at his ignorance of what he is missing. We say we are friends and lock arms on the way home in the dark. I imagine teasing him with my mouth, my words, my hands. I want to make him shudder at my touch. I smile at the thought of him forgetting everything but the smell of my skin, the taste of my tongue. I realize this is just my own need to be the victor and laugh at my ridiculous need to win. We go to sleep at night and sometimes I touch myself in his bed while he lays in the other room, pretending it is his hands, his mouth on my hot skin. I smile at my own silly appetite for things I am told I cannot have. I wish for his happiness and dream of my own completion. As my plane takes me thousands of miles away from his scent, his voice, his presence, I realize the truth. I see that it was all a fantasy. I am happy at the thought of the friend I have gained, yet cry at the memory of the lover I created that did not exist. His words still linger in my mind and I still think “what if” and berate myself for wondering. I have made a friend. I have lost a lover. I am still me. He is still him. We are still alone. And the moon still laughs at our ignorance and revels in our inability to see the truth.
22 Aug 2012
by Toasha
in bliss, desire, lost, love, pain, Skin
He promises to be careful. His hands are dirty with paint and stained with nicotine. Rough in places, smooth in others. When he touches me I forget the bills, the wrinkles, and the wish for something different. I just think of him. He makes me believe in eternal summer twilight, not hot but not yet cold. The slight breeze lifting your hair, tickling your cheeks. He makes me feel young, beautiful, incomparable. He worships me with his words, prays at the altar of his desire for me. He is imperfect. Not the dashing handsome prince you imagine as a young girl. His crooked smile teases me. His height makes me feel small. The way he looks down at me makes me feel powerful. He makes me feel alive. We sit across the bar and imagine ourselves alone. His mouth on mine, his hands touching me, our bodies pressing together in the smoky room. Friends see my face and wonder who it is that makes me look as if I have just made love. I laugh and say it is nothing, they imagine it. He smiles slyly and catches my eye as he takes a drag from his cigarette with the same lips that have gave me so much pleasure. He blows it out as he watches me across the table, his eyes intense and full of passion. Our secret makes us giddy. We can’t be together, not really. Other lives are affected by our choices. So we live each day full of want and need. Dreaming of a day when we could be alone. Our hands making trails down our bodies, our mouths forming words that aren’t planned and spilling them into our lustful ears. Languidly memorizing our skin with our fingers and our eyes. Exquisitely slow kisses, tasting each corner. He says he knows my smell. Sometimes it is there when I am not and he closes his eyes and imagines me. I find my own thoughts drifting towards him as well. Wondering if my flesh feels the same in his hands as it does in mine. This desire. It is killing us. We try to stop and always come back here, to this spot where we are bound. So he promises to be careful. I promise my heart is really his. We make these vows all the while knowing this sweet essence isn’t really ever going to belong to either one of us. So we grasp tightly to what we can as the rest slips away. And his eyes love me. Oh God how they love me.
19 Aug 2012
by Toasha
in bliss, desire, love, Poetry
You do not remember
But we grew old
Our hands intertwined
Wrinkles full of stories
Faces lined with devotion
A lifetime of birthdays
And anniversaries
We have come full circle
Yet now you look at me
And see nothing but dewy skin
Thick golden hair
And love
As I lay here dying
Mechanical means helping me breathe
You open your eyes from prayer
To see me in my perfect state
I shall be eternally young
Surrounded by your love
Even as I slip from this plane
To the next
Young and lovely
Made eternal
By you
Pain is Universal 