Elbows crossed, at the sushi table,
slammed back into a hot date
im just grateful for life’s fable
not to mention the hot plate
again and again, i wind
into this spiral of retrospective chime
theres only a particular women I can bind with
every smile I draw, every elective ryhme
that I subdue, makes me forget about
my expectations
the lower they are
the tastier the California roll!
its life,mirrors aren’t adhesive
be ready to broom the pieces,
dont’ let the edges of the past slit your lip
melt inhibition away and flim adventurous clips
When the ice melts at the end of winter, it leaves a dripping sound. Like the sound of millions of tears falling to a bottomless pit.
Kim Duncan
The melting chocolate slowly slid down the side of the cake, causing her mouth to water. She desperately looked for a fork or spoon to scoop it up, but could find nothing. Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, she slid her finger through it and brought it to her mouth, sighing at the taste.
chermisc
I sit in my heated car watching the snowflakes melt as they hit the dirty windshield. I wonder if anyone will miss me. I wonder how long it will take before they realize I’m gone. I caress the cold metal of the gun in the palm of my hand and wait for the right moment.
She raised the hair off the back of her neck. “Wow, it’s steamy in here.”
He wiped his brow and looked at her. “Astute.”
She stuck out her tongue because she had no energy to snap back. She felt like her skin was coming off her body slowly.
Melting is really letting go of previous limits. Accepting by transcending.
Just like love melts all things.
Just as the sun melts the ice.
Just as softness overcomes hardness – Tao Te Ching.
My melting hart. That painful but sweet feeling when another soul has power over your soul. Your hart will melt until it reaches its core and then you will become cold as Ice never to let another soul take your power.
onyx
Liquid, running down like the color in my face. The only things I had to cling to, I can’t keep them in cupped hands—what will fill them? I thought the process of losing myself would be more agonizing and slow, but instead it is like I’m caught in a heat flash—has it already happened? It has liquefied and begun puddling at my feet. A look into the water and I see who I used to be, growing blurry, where did they go? If given the chance, would they have been able to change anything?
With a tumble, the ground beneath me turns softer under the fire in my skin. Hearts, cheeks, the hardness in your eyes…. These things warming and changing shape are a given. A happy, hazy given. The rest too is under fire, picking and choosing which parts of yourself to test, to destroy, to make you lose grip on. On ice, by a pond, sweating a lake on a mountain. Little by little, I burn away, changing out of a solid state.
some people just melt you but you are the one who decides what about them melts you, the thing that melts my heart is the words that the person uses , i feel that its the coversation that keeps it going and melts our heart !
eva thomas
Melting? Melting? Haven’t we already melted? This is an old word. I wrote my melted poem down on the paper at the back of my physics book. I typed it onto scrap paper and burned the edges. I photographed it with a candle and a match. That was perhaps silly, I don’t know, so much is shallow. My heart feels like velcro tonight, I just want to write about that. The barbs of my heart being pulled apart with every beat, pressed back together, then pulled apart again…
today I got a new word, melting. what do you mean by melting? the first example is in front of my manager, I melt. another example of the same word is ice cubes melts in the sunlight. All writers use this word. The chocolate melts in the heat. sugar piece melts in the teapot.
viji
Melting away can be my salvation or your damnation. Only I can decide, and what I decide, you know, will always be to shield you. Protect you. Will I perish with it? Maybe. But being the flame, I can withstand the fire. But seeing you scorch in the flames of my love. It shatters the ash coldness of my heart. It melts away what is left in me. THE REASON TO LIVE.
sheftha
There is an hour and a half left until my birthday. It’s 10:34pm, so I won’t actually turn 19 until 2:07am. I still have three hours or so. 18 is just melting away. I’ve really liked being 18. I did a lot of stuff. Checked off a lot of things. I deserve good things. I think I like myself after all.
It felt like I was having a heart attack. Not a real one, but everything around me combined didn’t help my mental state, not just the combined heat of all the warm bodies around me, or the tens of people all talking with each-other. As the music blared and I saw him strut closer to me, his eyes only looked more vibrant. The few lights that there were seemed to be focused on him, casting rays of gold and diamonds onto his brown hair, his blue eyes lit up and glimmering. He smiled at me, taking my hand and absolutely melting me.
blue
This is usually what I feel is happening to me when a sexy actor is on screen. It’s not really in my control. The woman who played Molly Weasley once said she got wet just seeing Laurence Olivier, and I think it’s something like that.
Everywhere, the sun was an overbearing mother holding you in her fiery embrace and not letting you go. Even if the skin started melting off your bones. Even if the ground beneath your feet was set alight by the great star’s unyielding love. Even if finally, when the hug was over, you were nothing but a pile of incinerated ashes ready to be swept away by the wheels of Helios’s chariot.
Elbows crossed, at the sushi table,
slammed back into a hot date
im just grateful for life’s fable
not to mention the hot plate
again and again, i wind
into this spiral of retrospective chime
theres only a particular women I can bind with
every smile I draw, every elective ryhme
that I subdue, makes me forget about
my expectations
the lower they are
the tastier the California roll!
its life,mirrors aren’t adhesive
be ready to broom the pieces,
dont’ let the edges of the past slit your lip
melt inhibition away and flim adventurous clips
When the ice melts at the end of winter, it leaves a dripping sound. Like the sound of millions of tears falling to a bottomless pit.
The melting chocolate slowly slid down the side of the cake, causing her mouth to water. She desperately looked for a fork or spoon to scoop it up, but could find nothing. Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, she slid her finger through it and brought it to her mouth, sighing at the taste.
I sit in my heated car watching the snowflakes melt as they hit the dirty windshield. I wonder if anyone will miss me. I wonder how long it will take before they realize I’m gone. I caress the cold metal of the gun in the palm of my hand and wait for the right moment.
She raised the hair off the back of her neck. “Wow, it’s steamy in here.”
He wiped his brow and looked at her. “Astute.”
She stuck out her tongue because she had no energy to snap back. She felt like her skin was coming off her body slowly.
The days are matches to my skin
and I melt like witches into a future
that inevitably will end.
How do I accept this?
How do you?
I can’t understand it,
but maybe some
only greet death when
he comes knocking.
For those of us who dance
precariously with him
under the moonlight
and a bottle of liquor,
perhaps we just want
to know why he’ll
never love us back.
I’m okay with melting –
no, really, I am.
I just need to know
that the way I went
out burning will salve
someone else’s soul.
Melting is really letting go of previous limits. Accepting by transcending.
Just like love melts all things.
Just as the sun melts the ice.
Just as softness overcomes hardness – Tao Te Ching.
My melting hart. That painful but sweet feeling when another soul has power over your soul. Your hart will melt until it reaches its core and then you will become cold as Ice never to let another soul take your power.
Liquid, running down like the color in my face. The only things I had to cling to, I can’t keep them in cupped hands—what will fill them? I thought the process of losing myself would be more agonizing and slow, but instead it is like I’m caught in a heat flash—has it already happened? It has liquefied and begun puddling at my feet. A look into the water and I see who I used to be, growing blurry, where did they go? If given the chance, would they have been able to change anything?
With a tumble, the ground beneath me turns softer under the fire in my skin. Hearts, cheeks, the hardness in your eyes…. These things warming and changing shape are a given. A happy, hazy given. The rest too is under fire, picking and choosing which parts of yourself to test, to destroy, to make you lose grip on. On ice, by a pond, sweating a lake on a mountain. Little by little, I burn away, changing out of a solid state.
some people just melt you but you are the one who decides what about them melts you, the thing that melts my heart is the words that the person uses , i feel that its the coversation that keeps it going and melts our heart !
Melting? Melting? Haven’t we already melted? This is an old word. I wrote my melted poem down on the paper at the back of my physics book. I typed it onto scrap paper and burned the edges. I photographed it with a candle and a match. That was perhaps silly, I don’t know, so much is shallow. My heart feels like velcro tonight, I just want to write about that. The barbs of my heart being pulled apart with every beat, pressed back together, then pulled apart again…
today I got a new word, melting. what do you mean by melting? the first example is in front of my manager, I melt. another example of the same word is ice cubes melts in the sunlight. All writers use this word. The chocolate melts in the heat. sugar piece melts in the teapot.
Melting away can be my salvation or your damnation. Only I can decide, and what I decide, you know, will always be to shield you. Protect you. Will I perish with it? Maybe. But being the flame, I can withstand the fire. But seeing you scorch in the flames of my love. It shatters the ash coldness of my heart. It melts away what is left in me. THE REASON TO LIVE.
There is an hour and a half left until my birthday. It’s 10:34pm, so I won’t actually turn 19 until 2:07am. I still have three hours or so. 18 is just melting away. I’ve really liked being 18. I did a lot of stuff. Checked off a lot of things. I deserve good things. I think I like myself after all.
It felt like I was having a heart attack. Not a real one, but everything around me combined didn’t help my mental state, not just the combined heat of all the warm bodies around me, or the tens of people all talking with each-other. As the music blared and I saw him strut closer to me, his eyes only looked more vibrant. The few lights that there were seemed to be focused on him, casting rays of gold and diamonds onto his brown hair, his blue eyes lit up and glimmering. He smiled at me, taking my hand and absolutely melting me.
This is usually what I feel is happening to me when a sexy actor is on screen. It’s not really in my control. The woman who played Molly Weasley once said she got wet just seeing Laurence Olivier, and I think it’s something like that.
I’ve slowly disappeared into the substance of what I once was.
Everywhere, the sun was an overbearing mother holding you in her fiery embrace and not letting you go. Even if the skin started melting off your bones. Even if the ground beneath your feet was set alight by the great star’s unyielding love. Even if finally, when the hug was over, you were nothing but a pile of incinerated ashes ready to be swept away by the wheels of Helios’s chariot.