nicolebrepoetry

my raw thoughts

7 notes

Morning breath kiss

I look forward to the night that I can safely doze off in your steady arms. I want bare skin and sweating under wrinkled sheets. I want to dream of you and I. I want to rise to find your fingers laced with mine.

I want you to be my comotose kiss that creeps in to steal my oxygen. I want you to be the last words I speak before I sail off to slumber. I want to get lost in a maze of breath, never knowing where you end and I begin.

I want you to be the arm I reach to wrap around my shaking body when nightmares terrorize me. I want your heart to be the beat that lulls me back to serenity and sweet dreams.

I want you to be my morning breath kiss, before I brush my teeth. I want your face to be the first I see, with crecent moon eyes still crusty from sleep.

I want to rest while being tangled in your body, supported by the mattress. I want our legs entwined together as if our bodies were grapevines and our love created the finest wines.

I want to you know that no matter which way I toss and turn beneath the quit, like a red light it’s your body that will always crash into mine. I want to tell you that my love came quick like a car accident without a seatbelt. I want to know how many hours I can spend with your body until you can’t take anymore and you finally melt.

I want you to be the reason for my dopey half grin. The one I rise and shine with. I want your dimples to set off fireworks by surprise. I want your raspy voice to whisper my name while you stare lovingly into my chocolate eyes.

I want to serve you my body over blankets, as your breakfast in bed most mornings. I want to speak the first “I love you” while my pulse is still soaring.

Filed under my writing writing nicolebrepoetry poem poetry love

1 note

TODAY TOMORROW FOREVER

I had so much love that one person was simply not enough. I wanted to share my mind, body, and soul with anyone who’d let me. But then you. You came into my life. Suddenly there’s no need to share myself with everyone else.

You. You are like a fucking angel walking the streets of the shit hole city. I swear you touch me and I forget to breathe. You end up having to remind me. Most days I can’t think. And we’re mid conversation and I can’t even form a sentence. Your fucking dimples kill me and I can’t even speak.

There’s too many people saying it’s too much to take on. It’s too soon to be so in love. We’re too young to know what we want. I should walk away now because I know how it always ends up. Sooner or later they realize I’m not perfect. They leave me because they believe they found someone better.

But I refuse to let my past ruin my present. Tomorrow isn’t promised but we have today. And today I’m happy. I’m content. And I’m in love. Because of you.

And I could say it’s because you sing to me in the car. You offer me your jacket even when your entire body is shaking from the cold.

Or I could say it’s the way you read my body like a book. You memorized every single page of me.

You know that when you kiss the spot below my neck I’ll pull you in closer. You know I like to breathe so you can barely hear me. You know my thighs twitch when I’m tired but want more. You even know that I hate goodbyes so you have to walk me halfway to my door.

But there are so many reasons why I love and appreciate you.

I love your body, heart, mind, and soul. All because they belong to you.

I love you and everything that makes you who you are.

Your pain and failures.
Your accomplishments and joy.
I love your past for helping mold you into the man that stands before me today.
Your fear and frowns.
How the wrong words fall from your mouth.

It’s you.

I’m in love with you.

There’s no ring. Nothing borrowed. Nothing blue.

But I do.

I do want to spend today, tomorrow, and the rest with you.

Filed under my writing nicolebrepoetry poem poetry love marriage writing

3 notes

I’d go through hell for you

It just sucks how times change
Our thoughts rearrange
suddenly we’re of old age
Our friendship has died but we tell our children of our crazy adolescent times
It’s been thirteen years
My favorite number
But I don’t feel so lucky
We’re still connected without contact
I wanna reach out
But its not the same
I miss reading your mind from across the room
Suddenly I’m realizing I know nothing about you
And it hurts
It kills me to think we’re not on the same page
You were my sister, my best friend, my soulmate
And now, now we’re nothing
I want to walk to your house
I want to skip to the park singing some pop punk song
I want to lay on your bedroom floor and fall asleep singing the songs we most adore
But you’ve been gone for quite some time
We’ve grown apart with age
And it kills me to think you forgot me
You’ve left this shit town and you’re doing well
For that I’m proud
But when you speak of your younger years I hope you smile and raise your glass
I hope you remember that I was the greatest part of your past.

Filed under my writing writing nicolebrepoetry poem poetry best friends growing up childhood

4 notes

Peachy memories.

A blow to my ego, a kick to my chest heavy as wall of bricks

crumbling, falling, crashing down upon me

Burying me deep beneath

your words, your lies

I stand in the mirror and I criticize

myself, my body, every imperfection

I tell myself I’m letting go

Fuck it. I’m giving in

I’ll be pretty. You’ll want me. Watch and see.

Nobody notices or even cares but internally I’m hurting

Devastated and destroyed

Actions speak louder than words

and all you do is speak

You say I’m the one you love, the one you want to marry, the one to carry your baby

Your actions are unforgiveable

How the hell am I supposed to live knowing what you did?

All I ever did was love completely

I gave you every piece of me

Still you lie, you cheat

I cry, my heart slows it’s beat, afraid because I know history usually repeats

But I begin to think and I remember…

The first night at the park you asked for my hand and I knew it was for life

This is why I’m willing to try

You and I, we’ve invested too much

Our love is like the moon lighting the pavement on the darkest night

You’re still the man of my dreams

The one I want to kiss for eternity

We will be okay. We have to be.

Because I will not let us become a faded memory

Filed under my writing poem poetry nicolebrepoetry love cheating spilled ink

3 notes

It’s not okay that you think it’s okay

Maybe if I shave my head.

Maybe if I cut my face.

Maybe if I don’t shower.

Maybe if I don’t shave my legs.

Maybe if I roll around in vomit.

Maybe if I wear more clothing.

Maybe.

Maybe this shouldn’t be my fault.

Maybe men should learn respect.

Maybe I should be able to look however I choose without being sexually harassed.

Maybe men should be held accountable for their actions.

Maybe your attention is disgusting not flattering.

Maybe you should think about that.

Maybe.

Filed under nicolebrepoetry poem poetry my writing rape sexual harrassment feminism

2 notes

I’m a writer. It’s what I do. It’s like breathing. But I’ve never written about you. I can’t. It’s not that I don’t want to because I most certainly do. But you, you’re something I’ve never experienced. You’re made up of everything that I didn’t know could exist. The way I feel for you is far too complex to explain with any combination of 26 letters. How do you describe someone so perfect? No words do you justice.

Filed under poetry poem spilled ink my writing writing nicolebrepoetry

1 note

I’ve always been a hopeless romantic. My friends told me that the cliché Meg Ryan movie kinda love didn’t exist. I still believed. However, I’ve always been skeptical of love at first sight. I wished it could be true but it seemed too good to be. That changed the day that I met you. I can’t explain it. Never have I felt this before. I love you so much it makes me sick. Every bit of you I love; your mind, body, heart, and soul. I look at you and I see everything I don’t deserve. I love you in ways I could never explain. The way I feel for you is terrifying. And without a doubt, I know you love me just the same.

Filed under poetry poem spilled ink my writing writing nicolebrepoetry