You turn my mind into a catastrophe. It implodes within itself. My emotions, my thoughts, my very being scattered every which way, like a million puzzle pieces being pulled apart to begin again. Our assumptions became termites in our relationship. We never invested in an exterminator. Bit by earth shattering bit, eating away from what my reality of you was, is and will be. Our foundation became brittle. Brink by sinister brick, your tricks became habits. Release me from your grip. Mind going mad and people don't undersand, how can you be so unhappy when you're the epitome of a perfect couple. There's no such thing. The catastrophe is within the two of you and it cannot be tamed until your hearts are full. Until then, the puzzle pieces will not fit and your worlds, forever catastrophe.
About the Creator
Isabel Ana Zavala
Have been loving to write since a child. Never got anything published, I write more for myself. My everyday life. My children, My illnesses. The darkness we all have, The lightness we all want.
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Stare
With just a simple stare or caress, I get lost in your world of domination, lost in your gaze of determination. My fury so intense, my body trembles, my pearl glistens and my heart rate increases. Just the thought of his stare on me. looking past my clothing, past my under garmets. To my very soul, to my very core. My body flutters as his hands slowly caress my shoulders. Goose bumps forming. Those eyes. I submit to those fiery passionate eyes. I hear your heart beat skip from across the room, or was that me? My chest rises and falls ans excitement takes over. My imagination is taking me to euphoric paradises with that stare. Longing for the day to touch that hand and kiss those lips and surrender myself to you.
By Isabel Ana Zavala5 years ago in Poets
The Devil's Triangle
The sails ruffled in the breeze as we cruised along. The Sea Breeze was a mid-size catamaran that sailed out of Royal Naval Dockyard in Bermuda. We had booked this trip weeks in advance and were now looking at our Captain, Spike and two boat hands. Paddy and Wilson seemed like nice guys, joking around with the passengers and telling us some stories about Bermuda that only locals would know. Their island accents sounded almost British but they were pleasant to listen to.
By Barbara Gode Wiles6 days ago in Fiction
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