It is the words you carry within your heart, the ones that claw at the walls, desperately trying to emerge; those are the ones you need to share with the world.
I’ve already forgotten the feel of you; The beat of your heart beneath my cheek, The vibration of your throat when you start to speak. What was it you smelled like when you were here? Tobacco, crisp leaves and bergamot… How is it possible I’ve already forgot? The taste of you has slipped my mind; Your lips so sweet with minty breath, Your showered skin always fresh. The sounds of you are long gone now; Your voice a steady baritone, The echoes of your pleasured moan. The sight of you is something else; Captured in photos and insta posts These are the relics I cherish the most. By: T.J. Ruberto 2021
Listen to the hush behind the NOISE within your head. The peace. Tranquility . Stop wishing you were dead. The voices that are calling, SHOUTING OUT! your name, Serve only to fill the VOID and play a ruthless G A M E . You are worth MORE . Deserve MORE Than that voice will Let you see. Just look at all you've accomplished and ALL that you could be. Listen to that SILENCE when the beast inside is DEAD. The hush is a place to build upon PEACE AND LOVE instead. By: T.J. Ruberto (c) 2017
I want you to make love to me In the quiet hours of the morning When the sun shines through the slats And the birds chirp on the windowsill We can pull the sheets over top of our heads Make the world disappear for a while I want to feel your fingers on my skin Running through my messy hair Rolling me over again and again Pressing up against one another Basking in the glorious morning rays I want to make love to you in the morning By: T.J. Ruberto 2021
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