February 2012
4 posts
“To become a queen, is to become emotionless”
I do believe I have lost my will to write.
January 2012
6 posts
It is easy for anyone to look at this and see it as a weakness. Easy for any man to shoot me down with the words I had written for him. Although, I still believe enough to write, enough to express myself in a way I see fit. My words are transcending in the sense you still hear them before you lay to sleep. They are soft like wool, wrapping you for comfort when you are scared. I have spent years...
Realization: I can’t leave you because you’re the only person who gives me these thoughts and feelings. The feelings and thoughts being that of children and marriage. As scary as it all sounds to be grown up, I cannot help but think with you it will all be better, not easier, but better.
You give my thoughts the room to breathe: to flourish.
The truth of it all is actually really foolish if you start to focus on it: we’re all drug dazed. That is who we are and who we have continued to choose to surround ourselves with.
We are lost, all of us. The scariest part of it though isn’t that we’re are lost, but that we are all on the same path trying to lead.
I want to get better so I can help lead my friends...
1 tag
1 tag
December 2011
9 posts
It was the day he began to learn how not to love: the hardest day of his life.
I like the way we make love.
Its real: raw.
I like that when I put my all in it you do too.
I love that when we make love its just that, making love; not fucking.
1 tag
On Holding On by Dowee
I want to hold on to you like how a wave’s white wash kisses the shore, again and again. Sometimes, it is already enough that you live in me only as bludgeons to my soul. —deep vacant bruises Because to keep you alive is like treading water: a survival instinct, yet, one can only take so much… so maybe, let me drown.
He lived for it though: for the aching of missing in his bones.
He lived for something stronger.
And he inhaled the worlds wonders only to exhale them.
1 tag
As My Pen Dips by Dowee
1. I touch your inner thighs, slowly. As lace, lust and leather invigorate my senses, my fingertips travel up north. With subtle strokes and sly words, all whispered into the ear towards the soul.
2. My fingers slip in and out of your wetness.
3. My lips waiting, wanting to taste the sweet tang and smudge of your moans.
4. As I, with eyes closed, indulged in every tantric ache, slowly dip my...
When you cannot find the right words to express...
Writers block.
The decadence calls to your soul a song that anyone would fall prey too: a song of temptation. Each line is one of remembering, as if you’re railing to feed a need for nostalgia that your brain is dramatically lacking. Face down to the plate you snort your way to understanding, to feeling anything other then reality. Off you go, set into motion you parade around the floor twirling and...
November 2011
8 posts
Martin, I do believe it is time you get over this. I really do.
I thought about suicide again this morning.
I haven’t in awhile.
Its scary to feel so strongly.
Its scary anymore just to feel.
I could be happy you know.
I could be normal.
I could end today with my life: to be happy.
Dazed and confused my hands follow your bodies curve from the hair of your chest that show such masculinity or down to your soft stomach that shows comfort and concern. Gentle sucks of your lips complimented by hand resting on your round yet solid butt, so soft and rugged it was. You were always a beautiful create, but only now have you become a forbidden one.
October 2011
12 posts
Listen
The fact of the matter is, there is no us. There is you. There is me.
I miss you though, a lot.
I miss how you smelt in the mornings, and how you held me till I was calm. The more I miss and the more time I spend with you is making me weak: the weakness shown in the grasps, in my touches. You have to understand, I truly am trying my hardest, with nearly every fiber of my being. Its the missing...
1 tag
I Look At You I block my mind’s attempt to recollect, To go to that warm place, Where you are perpetual, Undying and Mine alone— And its sadistic longing to gather your images. A sigh in my heart creates ripples of sudden sadness, How you are not with me, And I, Have always been yours. Sometimes, the want to show you all of this...
You shouldn’t do that you know. Everything that you’re doing is showing how anxious you are: its all done of anxiety. The way you hold it, or the way its lit. You’re inhaling not to enjoy but to stabilize. You never can smoke a lone though. A cigarette, yes but never anything else. Nostalgia always flooded within the smoke. It would read like a tapestry sewn of the finest silk:...
People tell me often that I am mature for my age, but the more I reexamine myself I can’t say I agree.
I wouldn’t say I am not completely mature, I think that in fact I am very wise and mature for my age. For me though, I think it’s truly that I am great at acting the part of a mature adult. I can spin you a tale of wisdom so vast that you would yourself think I was scholar...
Every moment that ticks down on the clock feels...
There isn’t a night these days that my hand doesn’t reach out for your side: wanting and craving its curvaceous allure.
Crissy Cabral says
What’s up with you and Trin?
Martin Campos says
We’re friends.
Crissy Cabral says
Is it hard to be around him?
Does it hurt?
Martin Campos says
It only hurts when we are close and I reach out for more and he pulls away
But he still turns red when I reach for his hand or cheek.
Love isn’t gone, only kept.
Crissy Cabral says
Hmmm.
Sounds terrible.
...
Creased lips that fold so perfectly like a flower in bloom; you smile.
Silence comes heavy like nightfall; we hear the whispers in the wind like gentle pushes to one another.
Our love infinite like that of a dandelions bloom: we float on.
Skinny Love
To me he spoke in chapters, each word flowing into a new sentence.
I read him aloud to the air so that it could breathe.
His words were so direct; so experienced.
Bound like a book his spine spilt all his secrets.
I read him front to back; back to front.
Hours spent just reading his life story through each wrinkle and pore.
Page numbers outlined his body like a compass to a map.
Light dim...
Succulent like lemon drops you trickle down into my soul.
The warm familiarity you give is calming.
Smells of lilac and diesel run nostalgia through us like medicine.
Sanity renewed we breathe; we kiss.
Soft gentle lips you taste of distance and change.
Familiarity gone; I die.
My gentle lover will you not come again.
Will you not breathe to me familiarity?
My gentle lover you have died.
...
September 2011
30 posts
Distance takes you so far from where my lips can reach but still, I stretch.
Comfortably I can admit you have taken my heart as your own; and comfortably I can admit I am happy.
You have loved; and I still do.
Bonded together as friends I live on.
I count you as love, not lost but kept.
Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines he wrote a poem And he called it “Chops” because that was the name of his dog And that’s what it was all about And his teacher gave him an A and a gold star And his mother hung it on the kitchen door and read it to his aunts That was the year Father Tracey took all the kids to the zoo And he let them sing on the bus And his little sister was born...
To Love Me
To make me fall in love, Read me. As if a poem, Decipher lines, And find all that is unsaid. For when my mouth slithers out Droplets of triviality, All irrelevant, all un-wanting, They are words that die to gain notice. When I refrain from touch, That is the moment my skin burns For your coldness that will wrap me Gently during the night. As I walk away (without looking back), My...
Listen
1 tag
Manny Hernandez: On walking away →
givemeakiss:
to hear you, to speak of you. to watch you and see you there not with me like of distant music I hear so subtly its fragile tones and familiar melody like of remembering your soft fingers tiptoeing and titillating the barks of my body. and of your lips of misery or beatitude that rush…
2 tags
dowee:
Intentions
Are all but a mix of
Premeditated visions,
Desires
And delusions
Keep them safe,
Keep them secret.
But an anthology
Of poetic mental images
And theme songs:
All self-conjured
Keep them unknown,
Keep them unalive.
All but a sum
Of grip,
Fixation
And illusions
Keep all of them
Unheard, unseen —kept good and well.
1 tag
dowee:
Helpless You wrap around me With a velvet aura: Thick yet soft, Deep and deliciously dark. You gravitate me Like a stranger’s mysterious prayer: Let me swim inside Your perpetual sea. And you take me in. As if a letter to my soul Please Return to Sender. A tug on my shirt, Crying, Take me home. So all is left to reckless abandon, For...
1 tag
dowee:
Hopeless is Not a Case I licked my lips In the hope of tasting your sweetness Like how a frosted window’s moist, Never reaches the other side of the glass, To enter home. I walked against the rain, Consciously searching under garbage bins, Strange faces, Sticks of dancing smoke, And old familiar places Waiting, Hopeless without a cause,
Walking everywhere for a sight, ...
1 tag
dowee:
The Only Words I Ought to Say There are a thousand words To speak, Along with a hundred apologies And regrets. But if I were to break my silence, It would be to say Two words, As they are the only ones You will ever need to hear: Come home. My love, Come home.
1 tag
Dowee's: How We Kissed how our lips danced with... →
dowee:
How We Kissed how our lips danced with each other with soft succulent clasps upon gentle sucking, alternating wet slides, and nimble tongue to tongue, as if red wine slowly pouring into a king’s cup, or darling rose buds that travel against your skin, how I tenderly open…