These are some poems that I have created over the years that I thought I should share with someone.
These poems are based off of people that I find really attractive, so please enjoy.
Normal - you
Italics - them
Slight smut warning.
I stopped in the heat of it. A familiar face has sprinted by me. It noticed me too.
She just ran past me. She was right there. I had to stop, but hadn't faced the woman I loved the most yet.
The bodies were still falling. I turned to see the face that still haunts me. It did the same. Our eyes became locked.
She was breathing heavily and when she locked eyes with me, I saw that she held her breath. Almost as if the wind got knocked out of her. Why the hell is she here?
His disappointed scowl burned into my memory. His eyes, however, said something different.
She looked at me as if she just saw a ghost. She looked strong. Stronger than before I left her. Why did I do that?
Longing. Longing, the only emotion I can register. I hoped my eyes didn't show the same weakness.
I never told her why I did it. She must be so confused ... and hurt. I need to tell her. I need to take her out of this place. Knowing her she won't comply.
I can't trust myself around him. He had meant so little to me to stay and stare.
I wish I can move towards her, but I'm perfectly stationary. I'm frozen under her intense stare.
Had he meant so little to me now? He did betray me. All those days ago.
Looking at this figure in front of me made me realize something. I still loved her, but she was stronger than me now. She would never allow herself to forgive me.
And it still hurt. I want to launch at him. But my feet didn't move. Neither did he.
It was like we were in a different place. Isolated from everyone around us. And they didn't notice us standing still within the chaos.
The battle going on around us didn't stop. Men and women falling at our feet. Ironic.
When a second warrior fell in front of us, I knew I needed to get her out of here. I love her too much to watch her get hurt.
I need to move on. I have been stagnent for too long. I want to believe he thinks the same thing. Another part of me doubts it.
I take a few steps forward to say that I go to her peacefully. I reach my hand out to her. She doesn't look down at my hand. She keeps her eyes on me.
Almost as if I was possessed, I turn. And I run. Farther away from the man who had lifted me up, then smashed me to pieces on the hard, empty earth.
And with the blink of an eye, she was gone. She took off behind her and through the crowd. "Hey, wait!" I heard myself yell. I ran after her, still wanting to talk to her. Her braided hair was the only thing I could see in the crowd. When did she become so fast? Within the second, she disappeared into the masses. I stop. I tug on my hair, pulling at the root. I let out a scream, which only blended in with the voices of battle. She's gone. What have I done?
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AN: If you have not watched Vikings, what are you doing with your life?
