Poetblr - Blog Posts
should i start posting my poetry i write yes or no
#question #pleasebehonest #iwantmywritingtohelpothers
How We Love
*a poem of love from someone who has never been close to it*
You love with the same fervernece Of a starved man who has been Gifted with the promise of food Sitting mere feet away.
You are all bite an snarl, You push and shove To the finish line; Your eyes trained on the flesh In front of you.
I too was hungry. You were not the only one Who was withheld lifes simple Pleasures.
I too was left to chew At the inside of my cheek To slow the decay of my skin.
I know what it feels like To cut away pieces of your body Just to feel whole.
Yet you keep taking from me; Living under the assumption That leaving my skin bitten, broken And bruised, used up from your ventures, Is an act of love, and not one Shaped from your depravity.
When I laid my body bare for you That night while the world screamed Beyond the four walls of your quiet, Cluttered room, I thought you saw how our Eyes where blurred red from the same travasties.
Naivety has always been my downfall.
It was my undoing believing you knew that We were scarred from the same knife--rather, It was careless of me to assume you would hold it in consideration before serrading me once more.
But,
With my body cut open, My blood seeping into your sheets, claiming ownership in the one place you called home, I think the hunger that had been gnawing At my insides, long before you knew me, began to subside.
There is a power in knowing You come to me to feel worthy Of being human again. That it is my body, my being That is the foundation of your Sense of self.
So I will stay quiet while your feast, I will not cry while you dismember me. I will wait, watching red stain creme cotton In a halo around us and build myself From the remnants you left, and hold you While you struggle to understand the fullness.
For this is how I love.
maybe i am a tortured poet but like, with sprinkles on it and stuff
i'm afraid everything i've ever felt was all consuming so no, i can't be normal about this
I know right now, with everything that's going on in the world, it feels like the night will last forever, it's darkness stretching out for years and years ahead. But I have to say that one day, the soft pull of life will tug at you. You'll find yourself sitting quietly in the summer months enjoying the warm rays and the birdsongs, maybe you plant some flowers or berrys. You'll laugh till your sides ache and your heart lightens. You'll make art and get paint on your clothes and on your carpet. You'll read books your friend recommend and gush over your favourite characters together, maybe you'll write your own. That's what's getting me through, that one day it will be summer, the days soft and I'll have my book finished in my hands and maybe someone will read it. Maybe they won't. But it's things like this, the soft things, that make everything worth it.
you infected my heart with your cruel love
Silent walls
Invisible walls
Social walls
Internal walls
to hight to climb
i cannot reach
Why does my mind travel back to that moment on the bench so much?
When i keep telling everyone and myself that i do not miss you?
Why does my mind wander everytime back to you?
Why is it that i compare everyone that comes close to me with you?
Tell me...
I would ask you if i could, but i can't
No pressure, no diamonds
“Nobody looks good in their darkest hours. But it’s those hours that make us what we are.”
— Karen Marie Moning, Faefever
Autumn has always been Poet's season
A jaded soul
A childish heart
It feels like I
Am breaking apart
i dont want to talk,
leave me,
let silence be my voice,
silence,
the silence i embraced and hold on to when you ignored me
i can feel the waves crushing through my body
happiness
sadness
back and forth
they break, i dont
i scream
i open my mouth
it's quiet
And while I look in the sky so full of stars
i cry
and wonder when i will finaly see you again
you walk past me
deafening silence
i reach out
void of silence
you turn around
ignoring in silence
Ad Astra Abyssosque
whereever the way may lead me
falling down in the unknown depths
reaching out to get a grasp
catching myself looking down
in the abyss
getting up again
carring on
drowning in thoughts
but words full of desert
why am i cold
but burning away?
in my heart it is not dark
the rain is pouring and shattering on the floor
like glas
bursting into million pieces
pain freezing like ice
but burning myself
fading away
you promised me the world
and left it shattered
breaking free of everything
the cage
my heart
my thoughts
and suddenly it's all quiet
it felt like you threw me
so far from myself
i've been trying to find my way back ever since
-rupi kaur
Baby, I got a fever
I'm not feeling too well
I'm so under the weather
I'm so under your spell
- Corpse Husband (song: under the weather)
Seeing you
far far away
unreachable
but still so close.
Can someone tell me what poet wrote “So dawn goes down today, nothing gold can stay.” It’s in the book and I can’t find it for the life of me
On moving out
We are all still here together
The sound of my brother’s guitar still creeps into my room long after his 11pm curfew
Next year those fugitive notes will wind themselves furtively through other walls
This summer though, everyone’s shoes still sit on the shoe rack
The key hooks are full
We still buy sultana bran and jatz crackers and his brand of shaving cream when we go shopping
This summer feels like a full moon
Whole and round, like a cake nobody has cut into
Yet
It’s candles are flickering brightly
But I can hear the first chords of happy birthday
He will come back, of course.
But will he have grown while I’m not looking?
A tree falling in a forest full of people other people I don’t know
Schroedinger’s little brother
What will I no longer know about him
This bright creature, eagerly unfurling from his chrysalis while I still find myself wriggling, fuzzy and green
Curly headed rogue
I will send all of my nicest things with you
Pistachio cake and dandelion wishes and that warm staticky feeling when you get the harmony just right
Recount your adventures to me when you get home
Who knows? Maybe when you return I will have grown too
and we will show each other our new colours
On not feeling your age
I wake up and there is a teenage magpie
Sitting on the windowsill in my parents bedroom
It still wears it’s baby feathers
When the mother comes to find it they are the same size but she is sleek and sharp-beaked
high heels and pencil skirt to the unicorn-print jumper of it’s downy fluff
It sits on the windowsill, opening and closing its wings
It won’t look down, and it squawks at us when we come close, but it won’t fly away either
This summer I feel like that teenage magpie
I love this house but it’s starting to feel like something I am too old to keep
It feels like playing with your little sister just so you can have a turn with the dollhouse
Even though you’re already thirteen and you know (you know!) you’re too old
There is something in my bones that tells me I should be getting a mortgage right about now
I don’t dream about romance. I’ve no clue how people my age go about procuring that kind of thing
but sometimes I feel like I should be thinking about where to go for my wedding anniversary, or whether the babysitter will be available that night
Then I sit in the back seat of a car with my parents in the front and I feel like I should be setting my alarm for six thirty
Polishing my black lace up shoes and looking under my bed for the tie I carelessly discarded the night before
I was born middle aged and yet I’m still a child at twenty
How did everyone else learn to act their age when I wasn’t looking?
Maybe I have arrested my own development
Because I don’t want to outgrow this yet
This bedroom, this seat at the dinner table, this spot next to my mother on the couch at night
This life tastes sweet like orange juice
But I wonder where everyone else is getting the vodka I’m watching them add