Photo manipulations Photography PoeEternal poetry Writing


How to love a demon part 12. I’m sorry, that’s not fair, I don’t think he is a demon at all, and neither does this poem…

I live on an island of a dream
My joy is his trajectory
His eyes are the only skies I need
His love is the only fruit I eat

I taste him in seasons
I kiss him in the trillions
I lean on the shoulders of meaning
I cling to the shores of his breathing

I rest my plight in the palm of his hand
For his every touch is the promise land
And it’s finally a journey I can understand
For this is the mission fate had planned

And on and on and on we go together
Every step with you I’m feeling better
Every hug from you feels like my shelter
Hurting you is never in the weather

© Delia Ross. 2019

3 AM snaps turned into 6 AM snaps instead

Maybe when my hair is long enough my prince will come save me?
Messy lipgloss part 1 (it’s 6 AM cut me a break). SAVE ME!
I live in oversized t-shirts. That shits gotta stop…
Hazel eyes, messy lips & a brunette with bags under my eyes from insomnia. Do you still fancy me at 6 AM?

By PoeEternal

I'm gone. Maybe it's like I never existed at all.

3 replies on “Trajectory”

Ideally I want to be worshipped 24/7, (even messy without my makeup or fancy clothing). But there are people who say I look bad because of my pale skin and freckles. There’s nothing fake on me. No tans, nails, boobs, hair, nothing. 100% all natural and so boys look me over constantly because I don’t look like a Barbie.

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