Welcome to my poetry blog!

I am a twenty-four brown-eyed Aruban wanderer;
forever questioning where I'm going
and where I've been.
And when I'm not reading,
I'm writing. When I'm not writing, I'm reading.

Furthermore, writing has always been my
way of captivating a deep thought, grief,
lost love, depression and even hatred (sometimes).

Feel free to read and comment on my weird,
puzzling, obsessive, reckless and sometimes
confusing poems. It's all about what you
interpret from them that gets me buzzin'!

Thank you and have fun reading y'all.

-Lily Clarisa

Monday, December 8, 2014

He Liked the Idea of Me

He liked the idea of me,
the dream
the soft skin and brown eyes,
only his to see

He liked the idea of me,
more than my dreams,
the soft skin and brown eyes
locked in a golden clock
only his to hear

He liked the idea of me,
less than his dreams,
on stage every night,
for everyone to see.

He lost the idea of me,
no more dreams
the soft skin and brown eyes
flew away
beyond his reach

I like the idea of him,
in my dreams.
But the soft skin and green eyes
are nowhere to be seen...

Endless Vine

It’s just a fantasy,
It’s just a dream;
having you, kissing me,
holding on tight,
like you’ve never stopped before.

Your hands trail the back of my mind,
you whisper your secrets,
twirled in an endless vine.

I cry but I choke on my own smoke,
for these wounds they won’t heal,
while your sway is a two-way street,
and your love is lost forever.

I never forgot your devilish laugh,
like a forgotten hiccup,
of days past fast.

Your fingers feel like ghosts on these cold nights,
when I need you the most,
I had said no more--
now I’m begging for more;
why aren’t you near?

It’s just a fantasy,
It’s just a dream;
I have you,
you kiss me,
I never said goodbye--
You never stopped loving me.