Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
aha Mar 5
or was it the other way around?
when I made the decision to give myself to her, I felt my soul
yearn
to be torn apart
like cells splitting in half,
simply because
something within them
told them to

have you ever seen a mother make a sandwich for a child?
she uses this kind of jam
because that's the only kind they like,
and she cuts it just this particular way
so that it fits in their lunch box

I wanted to cut my heart into shapes that she would like.
coquette cookie cutters stamped into mounds of muscle
and arteries
and sinew
for a girl that said I was special
everything in this poem is metaphorical btw !! **** I would never cut my heart, that's terrifying. I hope everyone is well on this site btw I've been gone for three years and I hope to get back to writing more ^^
if you're reading this, have a good day !
aha Mar 5
I tell my friends on the first day
she's the first person
to ask me out
and I tell my friends
everything about her
(I've always been bad at managing expectations)

[we met at my job.
she thought I was ten years older than I am. I thought
she was three years older]

and a week later when she tells me she isn't ready for a relationship, I will tell her I'm not either
(I've always been a liar)

"who is, really?" she asks, relieved
I don't know how to answer that
because
(I've always been a *******)
every day is a gift and by gift I mean it's a jack 'n the box that I keep winding and getting jumpscared by
aha Mar 5
I fell through what felt like a void as the worst four years of my life passed

months felt like minutes and the clock made a game of going quicker to spite me

and all the while I withered like a houseplant locked in a closet

I cut myself off from everyone, even family. I wanted to hurt

hell had finally caught me
and I was being
                              dragged
                                            down

now that I have crawled out, I look back at the person that I was as I was falling

and I don't like what I see
you know that feeling when you read an old poem you wrote a long time ago and suddenly you're fourteen and nothing will ever be good again haha yeah me neither
aha Jun 2021
I think people are like cookies
not in the way that they are
the best thing ever created
(because in way they are and are not)

they are like a cookies because just walking by one
you will never know what's on the inside
you will only find out by
taking a chunk out
analyzing the insides

seeing if there are any raisins in there (ew)
or if they're more of an M&M kinda person
maybe they look just like a chocolate chip
but have a dried apricot in the middle....??

or maybe they're more of a chocolate brownie bite
with fudge inside and a chip on top

maybe they're a double chocolate cookie,
or maybe a jam thumbprint

or maybe even a store-bought, ****** Lofthouse style
you know the kind
with the icing that tastes like pure chemicals and
pink dye
with loads of soft sprinkles on top

those cookies have got to be the worst
this was a very old poem that i just finished. i started it in February 2020, before the covid lockdown.
aha Jun 2021
my heart is made of stone
all these years you've broken through
my each and every bone

i have no love to give you,
my heartstrings are pulled taught
all the time that we have spent
will soon be all for naught

i have no love to give you,
i'm as empty as the sky
no love for you if i don't
even want to stay alive
i wish i could do more for you. i wish i could give you the love you somewhat deserve. but i don't have it in me anymore to deal with life, my mental health, and putting on a farce at the same time. i'm almost sorry for you, but you don't need my pity.
aha May 2021
no, i am not a first grader
incapable of knowing when to capitalize
and i type in lowercase to be nonchalant
i don't capitalize 'i' because

i am not important
my self worth is lower than the Mariana Trench
it's hard for me to even address
myself without feeling annoying

i am not more important than the word prestigious
i'm not more pretty than the word beautiful
i am not as nice as the word affectionate
i'm not as secure as the word trustworthy

it's so hard to reprogram your brain to accept
that you can be of some worth, that you can be
desirable at all after years of too much thinking
and being alone and trapped in my mind

everyday i must try my best to remind myself
that the subject of a sentence is being
complemented by the beautiful words
like the way a close friends complement you

i have to remember that there are people there for me
even if my head tries to tell me otherwise
it's a struggle every time, but
'I'
just have to try
it's hard sometimes to remember that everyone has worth, even yourself...
aha May 2021
the flowers that grow on the trees
look like
muted explosions
but not malicious enough to hurt the eye

the flowers are so tender and soft
and all i can see is nature's true beauty
as the gentle breeze animates the trees

we're standing in my driveway
and it's a vivid spring day

pastel tones tones
swaying lightly in the wind
their sweet fragrance is
only noticeable if you are close

close enough to disregard
the fact that you have allergies and asthma and should
not inhale pollen...

close enough that when you reach out and
touch the branch the impossibly small petals
break free and fall slowly to the ground. . .

close enough that i watch as the petals brush your face
and you are,
for the minute,

at peace.
🌸 cherry blossom trees are so beautiful in the spring, i just had to write a poem about them. 🌸
Next page