Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
G Mar 2018
she runs a blade
along the side of truth
tearing seams to separate
the situation from semantics

tossing context
so I am nothing more
than a consequence
of bad behaviour,
an example of pain’s twisted path

reduced from a person
to a speed bump,
slowing her life plan

a hangnail on the hand
that feeds
anotherdream Mar 2018
People ask me if I'm that one boy,
Who writes poetry so often and quietly.
And I tell them no because quite frankly,
I don't want them to know unless they inspire me.

If my heart doesn't melt,
At the sight of their face,
If I don't realize I've never felt,
My emotions this way,
Then they shouldn't have to know,

Because I wish I could say I care,
But I ultimately don't.
Sorry if that's not fair,
But I still won't,

Reveal my own feelings,
To someone who can't understand.
They can't give me healing,
But they still lend their hand.

But they can't comprehend,
That's not what I need.
What I want is to end,
All the things,

Making me mad,
Turning me crazy.
Not things that are sad,
Just coping with waiting.
Thought I should try free-writing.  Truth is people can't know what I love because I'll never tell them...
G Mar 2018
i.
I feel like my legs have been stamped
and sent around the globe -
perhaps one flew to Austria to hear
the string quartet that stole my heart,
and the other walked to Amsterdam in
hopes of finding the soul I sold,
now stored on a shelf in a mason jar.

ii.
There is no metaphor,
only mileage -
a life lived long enough to realize
that love speaks louder than language,
and all an artist can do is strive to
describe the strangled kiss with
hit and miss letters,
myself no exception.

iii.
I remember tearing a photograph in two
and trying to stitch a half of each of
our faces together - forcing them to fit.
When I looked upon the product, the monster
I'd created, my legs began to shake.
W Winchester Mar 2018
1) I want one thing from you:

Love, attention, love & attention
Pay attention to my love

2) I want nothing from you

No love, no care, no attention
Leave me grinning and bare

3) I don't want you

Your heart is too full,
there is no room for me

4) I want your best

Say "no", I dare you
Give to me gifts
Give to me YOU

5) I want one thing from you

Deny Me Nothing
freewrite
Anji Feb 2018
They say I need healing
But what could they mean?
Isn’t that what I’ve been doing?
Walking alone down this road, planting seeds
Of myself into this poetry and
Watching it grow.
Maybe one day, it will start flowering, and they will see.

Waterfalls flow. They remind me of places I could go.
Of places I’ve been. Of things I know.
Of the loves that I’ve lost. Of the things I still hope.

If he were to come to me, what would I do?
Who have I been becoming? She
Is stronger, more capable than
Any other version of me.
But she is darker, harder, than I know that I truly should be.

I loved him with the best parts of myself.
I loved him like art. Like beauty itself
As down the mountains and silent Alps it fell
We sat together, his hand I held, sharing secrets I still can’t tell,
I felt as I had never felt, as if our souls were bound in a spell
To ever love and to ever impale
The quietest recesses of my most private self
I trusted him with my life, my love, my soul itself
And so, of course, I shouldn’t have been surprised when, he failed.

I was so young. So alive. So sure of myself.
So trusting, naive.

We worked together in the garden, pulling weeds
And churned yogurt and nuts in the kitchen, making muesli
We lay beneath the bright stars at night with a bottle of wine
Giggling together, talking, kissing, we
Were immortal then, impervious to doubts or fears, insecurities or death itself.

Every cell in my body, every fiber in my being, every thought and word and deed
Was vibrating for you, was alive to follow you, wherever you would choose to lead me.
Ah, so young, so drunk on possibilities, so naive.

Nobody else has these memories I keep locked inside of me.
I thought that we would be married.
I thought you were the one for me.
I wanted to give you my future, my everything.
So I did. And I lost myself, then.

I’m so scared, now. I don’t want that to ever happen again.

Because now I can’t see you. I can’t feel you.
You are nothingness to me.
You are worse than death, because that, at least, I could grieve.
You are non-entity, you are a gaping wound of anti-matter heavy inside of me.
You are thick poison, metallic in my bloodstream, slowing my movements, slowly killing me.

You are the haunting nobody else can see.
You are the reason I wake up everyday, fighting.
And I am so tired. So angry. So broken. Untrusting.
You wrecked the feminine inside of me, she’s run, gone from me.
Leaving nothing but furious warrior energy.
And he is determined to protect her from everyone and everything.
I can’t cry anymore. I don’t have that within me. Tenderness, vulnerability?
There is no part of me now that is weak. Diamond is my core.
Hard, tortured, unmoving, compacted into impregnable density.
Beautiful, but terrifying.

They say I need healing. But that means that I would have to be a living, feeling, growing thing.

And yet… Nothing lasts forever.
So, I suppose its just a matter of time,
Until maybe one day  I will encounter a love so bright
It melts down that diamond inside of me, transmuting me
Into something warmer, more brilliant, than this current version of me.
this was a free-write. so... mom isn't here for this one, unfortunately.
Jord Jan 2018
My will has devoured me again appearing as a painful white paragraph on the outskirts of my thoughts.
Blood gorges my heart and blurs my vision for only a moment.
Deep within my skull is a spotlight of my truest delusions.
A noticeable passing of fear becomes a priority to last amongst my filthy habits. Maybe then, i would shed myself to the past,
as my friends in my desert home do.
Alive Dec 2017
what if I told you
that you didn’t have to fool me
and you don’t have to convince the world
that you have it all together
and that your world is so bright behind those rose-colored shades.

I can see past the filters and through your deceit,
your world isn’t as lovely as it seems.
but still for the audience you display a false sense of happiness
a staged idea of having it all together
so busy convincing others —
perhaps you’ll never know when you’ll be content.

it’s exhausting, isn’t it?
trying to maintain appearances?
the picture you painted for me is not the one you paint for your audience.

just
be
you
we became so preoccupied with convincing everyone that we were happy, that we forgot to actually do it.
Raquie Nov 2017
Lover of mine,
Of everyone

You were like a spider
&
I was caught in your web.

Not tight enough to be devoured
But
You hurt me

As I birthed our sun
I found my heart burning
Tear ducts filling with every massage
No longer pouring
But once they were waterfalls

I remember rainy days
& reasonate them with
The transitions
Of positions
As we laid in the bed we made
& made love

& made Malcolm

I remember the rainy days
As it rains today
& wish I could have you this lifetime

I dreamt of your demise
At my hand

I dreamt of your infidelity
Priorly I asked The Most High
Show me something.

And she did.

She told me I don't love you,
You love me.

I woke up bewildered
After cutting the slutty gyal to cheese

Unhealthy.

I don't expect many to understand,
For I still ponder on the messages relayed to me
By the great wise ancestors

I had let you go
I had to let you go
You'd have killed my spirit had I not cut our ties

All my friends & all my family
Had to keep reminding me why

You put spells on me with your rod
You fed me bloodied spaghetti & stories
Figured I'd forget...
But I didn't
& I know your knowledgeable about
The spirits
Trying to play voodoo ****
Maybe next lifetime...
this.
this word.
mutter it softly, as the fireplace moans.
bring your bones to the pyre,
bring your dragons,
bring your friends.
come to this pyre and we shall burn
the past into the present.

do you hear the thin noise of action?
the things that you will do,
the things that you have done,
all rushing into that heart of yours,
that heart of ours,
that fiercely fragile thing?
yes. you do.
and you shall break the mountains with every whisper.
let your words proliferate across this crumbling world (spinning itself to dust),
a legion of ants on this blue sphere.

do, and your flesh will unravel into dawn.
do, and the vices writhing in all our skulls will have no choice but to yield.
do, and we shall leave all these broken lamps behind,
let them drift away on this slate-blue sea,

do,
and we shall burn the past
into the future.
inspired by this youtube video:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dTGvbhqWoFI.
Tuffy Mutombo Aug 2017
Naked I am when I write these words
I cast them on a screen

Hoping they find my readers ears
Cast out all of their fears
As they drown from all of their tears

This is just me and my words
I fear nothing but your ignorance
I pray for grace and forgiveness
My life once clean
Now a mess from unconfessed sins
I confess my insecurity
To the one who hopes the best for me

If you are to judge me
at least look into my words
And tell me you have never felt like me before
Your heart on the floor
Walked on by others who are more insecure

If you feel my pain
These words are now your words too
Next page