Author: meredithlmm

Entrepreneur • Writer • Poet • Lover of Great Wine, Food, Cocktails, & Brewed Beverages • My best friends are feline 🐈🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

Superman

 

I miss your beautiful face,
Though there is beauty around me,
Beauty inside me.

His hands slip around me,
Move me, hold me like a dancer,
And it is intoxicatingly beautiful…

And I still think of you when I lay down to sleep.

I am blessed with unspeakable sweetness
From men of incredible beauty…

And still, I think of yours, I want to be blessed by you.

You’ve asked me to stop,
Demanded that I stop,
Attempted to crush this iron heart…

And it will only melt for you, if only you would be warm again.

Come back.
Come back.
Come back and see me; save me.

Be my Superman.

Do not forget that even demons have nightmares. Everyone dreams, and everyone hurts. It is no excuse for cruelty. Always be kind.

glass2mirrors (via wnq-writers)

Lionheart

You might not want to look at me

In the way that stole my heart,

But he does.

And he intends to steal my heart back,

To place it back in my chest

So I can live and love again.

Don’t sacrifice your self-worth just for the sake of not being lonely anymore.

It’s a big world, my dear. There’s a heart out there that beats the same way yours does. So if that boy you like doesn’t see you true worth – well, dear, make sure you see it. See your true worth and be happy with the company of yourself because it’s better to be loved by only yourself than be liked by someone who doesn’t see you at all.

itsdestinycalling  (via wnq-writers)

I figured out why the idea of us never worked; because you and I were never meant to be just an idea. We are meant to be real.

whoisstaceyanyway (via wnq-writers)

You’re trying to leave yourself behind, but you can’t. The more you try to run away from yourself, the more you’ll have yourself with you.

F. Scott Fitzgerald, “The Adjuster”  (via wordsnquotes)

The Loyalty

I am still yours.

Whether you discard me or keep me close,

I am still yours.

My wild heart is broken;
You tamed something in me,
And there is no way I know to un-tame a broken heart.

So,

I am yours.

This heart does not know how to give itself to another in this way;
It bucks and throws everyone away.

Is it my whole heart,
My whole mind,
My whole being…?
Or is it only pieces of my heart,
The lost child in me,
The wild one in me…

The fantastical dream of me,
Broken
By the reality of you?

How do I break your reality?
How do I return the favor of love
Upon love?

I want you, my love.

I am yours, my love.

I am still yours…!

I am

Still

Yours…

Human relationships were strange. I mean, you were with one person a while, eating and sleeping and living with them, loving them, talking to them, going places together, and then it stopped.

Charles Bukowski, Women
(via wordsnquotes)

Exactly.

It *is* weird… and I can’t get over that weirdness.

So true.

Breaking Tides

Fill me with your new love
With your way of seeing
With your way of knowing;
Fill me with visions of you
And drown out the memories of him:

I don’t want to feel that pain anymore;
I don’t want to be drawn back
To heal old wounds
To mend old bones;
I want to be fresh, with you.

Wash me in your seas.
Cradle me in the warm caresses,
In the rising tides of care.
Kiss me, and kiss me again like waves
Kissing again and again the shoreline…

I want to be in you,
Under fair skies,
Under young skies…
Under the moons of your eyes…
Captivated only by you.

Take me again to your bed.
Take me again to your quiet world
And wake me in your arms
With the sounds of quietude,
Where this wound is cleansed by the sounds of you.

And spend long, quiet days
In long, quiet moments washing over me,
Your fingers steadily breeding tranquility;
And let my heart peek through these waves,
To swim again, in your unknown seas.

I’m going to tell you something: thoughts are never honest. Emotions are. Do not go around asking for honesty in what people think; much of what they perceive as thinking is empty anyway because it’s thought out again and again and comes out refined and muddy. The ones who know how to feel might have to say to you a couple of interesting things or not and when they do that, you ought to know how to listen. So learn how to listen. You can’t make someone open up about their feelings in case they don’t want to. But you can remain open yourself through listening deeply and completely; they might want to talk about the weather and keep it simple – allow them to feel the simplicity. They might wish to throw a tragic metaphor to you and whisper ‘f—ing hell,’ then shut off again. Still, the feeling is there because the moment is. Emotion pours out directly or indirectly each time people engage themselves in the process of genuine interaction. Keep it genuine. Keep it simple.

Albert Camus, Notebooks 1951-1959  (via wordsnquotes)

That’s why I like you so much. Your heart isn’t dead.

Albert Camus, The Just Assassins  (via wordsnquotes)

Sometimes I think the loneliness inside of me is going to explode through my skin and sometimes I’m not sure if crying or screaming or laughing through the hysteria will solve anything at all. Sometimes I’m so desperate to touch, to be touched, to feel, that I’m almost certain I’m going to fall off a cliff in an alternate universe where no one will ever be able to find me.

Tahereh Mafi, Shatter Me  (via wordsnquotes)

I know this state….

“I still think about calling.

Especially on a busy Saturday night when the streets are filled with people yet the world feels as empty as an empty Jack Daniels bottle a broken man just finished. 

I still think about calling you.”

“You never did,” you said.

“I wanted to do so with all the billions of atoms in me.”

“You never called.”

“I was scared you wouldn’t pick up,” I replied. “I didn’t want to hear your voicemail again.”

Stories I’ll tell one day #5 – Ming D. Liu
(via mingdliu)

Shades of Light

I may not need you
To make me happy;
I may not need you
To give me beauty;
I may not need you
To give me love;
I may not need you
To show me the way…

But without you
I am without you,
Without your particular happiness
To meld with mine,
Without your particular beauty
To behold in awe,
Without your particular shade of love
That embraces the world in different ways,
Without your ways
To watch in mirthful, childish wonder and adore.

Without you…

I may not be alone…

But we do not share the same moments anymore.
We do not share the same shade,
We do not watch the same cloud,
We do not warm under the the same sun rays.

And I cannot look at you,
And it is hard to impress my love upon you,
And it is only in the ether that I may embrace you…

Is it true
That you no longer wish to look upon me,
That you disdain my ways
That once you adored?

I may not need you,
But I need to know
The truth.

Never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option.

Mark Twain (via wordsnquotes)

smakka-bagms:

the old voices
mossed inside
some odd tenor

they know the
tepid water

whereas
we have barely touched
the sea-song

Dark burgundy she,
lure the lum and lull of her

Oh, so lovely…!

Viscerally Undeniable

There are moments when the world seeps through,
Takes over my mind and claws at the glass walls of my heart
To take you from me.

There are rivers of the world’s blood that flood me,
That would carry you far away from my dreams
That would drench me in their memories of loves gone wrong.

There are days when the voices of the world
Mingle with yours, become yours, would be mine
To scream, to convince me we must not be…

And yet…

There are fires on your oily seas, my dear,
Aching to be quenched, to be put out;
And my soul-water’s tears and waves do nothing but spark and fan your flames….

There are nights and morns when you slip into me, viscerally
More than a thought, more than a dream,
Whispering unspoken words into the depths of me…

And I remember moments with you-and-me
When you would rest the everything in you with me,
When I would rest the everything in me with you…

And we were.
And it happened
Undeniably.

Addendum:

tiedupinkitestrings:

Even
though I have been
filling
up these pages with all
of
my black and blue, I still
refuse
to live like a bruise.

Love this poem, and the sentiments.

sphallolalia

An obsolete word, sphallolalia is defined as flirtatious talk that leads nowhere.

  • etymology:  Ancient Greek σφάλλω (sphallō, “to stumble”) and λαλιά (lalia, “talking”).

(via wordsnquotes)