hurting heart - Hello Poetry

May 2015

berry

cadavre

this is a poem about how you sleep,
how your body grew cold like a corpse in a mortuary.
how it felt wrong to reach out and touch you.
did you know that you turned away from me
every time i tried to face you?
did you do it on purpose?
maybe you were afraid i would be able to see
you were dreaming of her,
that i would read it on your face.
lines by your mouth like obituary,
like roadmap, her bedroom,
the destination, mine, a pitstop.
loving you was like attending a funeral service for myself
and sitting in the front row. no.
loving you was like watching you pick out a casket
and call it practice. ****.
i know how sensitive you are about death.
i know it still hurts.
i know how everything hurts.
i am sorry for just being another thing that hurts.
i think i'm afraid to let you forget that you used to want me.
like if i can somehow dig deep enough,
wound you into remembering me.
i keep weapons-grade nostalgia in my back pocket
for the days i can feel myself slipping from your consciousness.
i was born with scar tissue where skin should've been.
but this isn't about me.
this is about the way you sleep
like you're waiting for someone to close the lid,
cover you in dirt, and read a psalm.
this is about the way i tried to sing your pieces back together,
and the way my voice gives out
when i read the things you write for anyone other than me.
lover, friend, stranger,
i just wanted to show you how to love your darker parts.
i never meant to become one.
i am so ******* selfish.
but i swear i am trying to unlearn the steps.
and you used to think my two left feet were charming.
i am out of time in more ways than one.
i keep stepping on your toes.
i can't seem to stop tripping you up,
hoping that you'll fall back into whatever this was.

- m.f.

"i am always dying in places where you fell asleep." - K.L.

May 2015

Tom Leveille

letters to cupid

whenever i hear a wind chime i think of your voice. i wonder what it's like to be your bedsheets. what it would really be like to understand the jargon in your head. i ******* want to kiss you sometimes and then others i really do want concrete between your hands & my skin. i can't think straight all the time so i wonder if it benefits me at all to explain what it means that i don't want or expect anything from you but if we accidentally liked eachother in that middle school "sort of way" then i wouldn't say no. i want to really understand what you mean when you say "stay" to me in our texts. i wonder if your sleeping pills do to you what they do to me. i'm thinking again about "stay" and maybe i'm choked up on you leaving for school up north but i'll never tell you because get the **** out of here and don't look back especially not for me. stay. your smile, genuine or not tears me in two. i wish every face on the planet had your smile and i am ******* afraid of you wearing lipstick. i'm terrified of your bare skin and goodbyes. i hate farewells and see you laters. i knew the first time i saw you interact on your phone while drinking coffee the way you text people and how i now do the same thing. i get around read receipts. i sometimes want to hear you say you want.. not so much me, maybe me, but my company. theres a park near my house where i've imagined us paddle boating. i got written up at work once for daydreaming about it. what the **** is in a friendship anyway, decency in a human isn't biological. i get hung up on knee jerks and gut reactions. i want to know what the ******* are thinking about when i look up and you are looking right at me. but then again, i don't. as long as i'm wondering. as long as the door might swing open or closed. stay. go. run. **** your collarbones. **** your chest and skin and lips and everything i hate but crave and might like about you without say so. stay. sit down and explain to me why it is that i care anyway. i am afraid that if i say i want to *******, you'll think i mean *******, and not "*******". i wanna know if any of this sounds familiar and i here i am back to wondering what the **** is going on and why you're looking at me. the hair on my neck stands on end when you do and another thing... **** poetry. i cloud my feelings for you & anything else with the abstract so you'll never really know if i ******* hit rock bottom or not over the fact that i know we will never kiss. somebody just said "**** buddy" on tv and i think sometimes symmetry between irony & circumstance. i have harbored some of these thoughts since the night you said hello to me. i'm sorry i had to get over the fact that once upon a time i wanted to save somebody, and you weren't going to let it be you. i do sometimes think my hands might break you, that you spend your day painting a picket fence in your head that you can't get on one side or the other on. i felt like you didn't want to get up from dinner and i rushed it out the door because i am afraid to start a sentence with so. so stay. i am sorry my words often wear brass knuckles. your smile shoots to **** and if i ever die while you still remember my name i want you to read this or read something at my funeral. i don't know if these butterflies are waiting for me to jump or sit down but they speak up when my phone lights up & it's you.

Apr 2015

Menelik

Blind foreplay.

With my eyes closed I'd let my hands roam across your skin, reading all your goosebumps like braille.
I'd listen to your body telling me how to respond, speaking with my hands in case my tongue and lips fail.

Nonverbal conversations because actions speak louder, and conversations getting crazy in these late hours.
Speaking yet not speaking. Kisses are breathtaking. Touching. Squeezing. Holding a conversation.

Nervous? I'm searching but i'm still uncertain. Think you can make this heart fulfill its purpose?
Beneath the surface I'm imperfect. Yet on the surface still imperfect. It makes no difference if we pull these curtains.

Let's leave them closed then and stay here. Lay here. Say we're in a race here, but i'm not tryna finish first...

Pillow talk and under covers with these conversations. Before I hit a home run i cover all my bases. ;)

#love #passion #lust #you #me #**** #us #flirty #intimate #foreplay

Mar 2015

stacey renei

Untitled

I lost a part of myself
The day you walked away from me.
The part that loved,
The part that felt.

I used to love the bay where we watched the sunset,
now it's polluted with
sickly sweet people with their hands intertwined
with people they think they love.

We used to listen to John Mayer on the stereo
every night before we sleep,
I traced endless patterns on you bare chest,
your fingers tangled in my messy curls,
now I hate his songs because they remind of you,
so and so that they make me cry.

You used to take me to long drives
in midnight,
now you made me an insomniac who
wants nothing to do with the midnight
because it's when memories of you haunt me.

You took from me
A part I'm never getting back,
A part that took more than half of my being.
Because now I realized,
once you were gone,
I was also gone.

Hey guys, so I haven't written a poem in so long. I hope you guys like this one. The poem's pretty easy to interpret and I hope you can relate. Don't forget to press like, leave a comment, and follow me. Please make this poem trend like all the other ones. Thanks!

#love #heartbreak #sad #hate #pain #thoughts #you #puppylove #teenlove #sadlove

Mar 2015

blankpoems

even when we're not

I keep telling myself that if I lay here long enough something's gonna swallow me and it's not because my heads been somewhere else lately it's because I sleep on the floor. Even when I don't. I sleep on the floor. The mattress has holes because mattresses get holes sometimes when you don't have blankets to cover them and you're too cold to put the cigarette out on anything other than yourself or what you have to sleep on now. Last year I'd spend every day in bed with a little bag full of drugs and a map to the bathtub just in case I forget what I took two seconds ago because I think it happened yesterday and I take more. And then I'm shaking, not because I'm cold this time. I'm seizing and nobody is home because everybody leaves me for preachers or church or a campfire or someone prettier. This part is foggy. I remember again a bathtub, an empty hotel bathtub and my mother and I say mama did you leave the door open on purpose and she says I went to church. She went to church. She went to church. Bathtub. I sleep there. Even though we are in a hotel I sleep in the bathtub because I like the way my anxiety sounds when it echoes. I like to hear it. Play it back. Memory. Back to the only house I've ever lived in alone. I'm seizing. I stop. I hear you. I somehow forget that it's 4 in the morning. It's my birthday now, nobody knows but it's my birthday now, teen years behind me but still a teen year drug addiction and you tell me to look out the window so I do. And the sky's on fire. I don't fall asleep again for three days but the sky's on fire. And so am I. And so are you. And I don't want to go back to the place I go to when I see the faces but I put myself here. I push and push and push and then I act surprised when something falls off the edge. I'm alone now. Even when I'm not. I'm alone.

Mar 2015

blankpoems

I ******* love you

they're saying "all you do is drink and cry", "I think you're bad for everyone" and you're not saying anything and I'm saying I love you,
I ******* love you
And maybe I needed something to bring me back to reality maybe these bathtubs are always a little too deep for me but I fit so perfectly in small spaces because I learned when I was 14 that i was never gonna grow into a butterfly
but my aunt still calls me hers and I'd still flutter my eyelashes on yours while the earth turned to ash because I like things ending so softly
and you are a ******* miracle if I've ever seen one I want to sleep with you so badly, on a trampoline in the summer and I want to watch you do bad things and smile so sweetly at you and you'll know that I don't give a **** what you do as long as you're still loving me while you're doing it because baby we've got this one life and I've been loving you as long as I have known what love is and I know it's in the way you whisper and I know it's in the way you say you're my world and if the world stopped turning tomorrow we'd be the only things still moving with excitement you make me so nervous and calm and nervous and calm and deep breath you make me nervous I bet you'll make me nervous when we're older and I'm making you pancakes and I feel your eyes on me and I burn my fingers but you always kiss them better baby
you're an alleyway and the kitten that sleeps there
you're the rain on the windowpane and the water breaking the levee
I'm drowning in everything I have ever said to you so if I say one last thing one last thing,
while you're not saying anything,
I love you,
I ******* love you

Feb 2015

g

Collections

I am not making progress and
Maybe I never will.

I knew giving my all to a boy
With such destructive tendencies
Was my biggest failure, but
Who could deny your hands or
The way you whispered
"I want you"?

Your ocean eyes and sand-colored hair
Sould have warned me because the
First time we touched was a day after
The beach, and I remember every
Person in your house on that given day
And I swear there are ghosts in
My walls that sound just like your bed.

I wonder now why the ghosts I hide
Under piles of our clothes (the same clothes
That have seen your bedroom floor)
Have taken on the form of you.

I need you because you are familiar
And because of that I will always
Feel alone in a crowded room regardless
Of the faces that plague my life daily.

Kiss me until the bitterness of fear
Leaves my veins and the oxygen in
My lungs is no longer his.

The only thing left to give up on me
Is my own bones, but I feel the rust
Through the marrow and
I am out of time.

How much time did we have?
How many bars of soap must
One person go through to remove
The feel of another from their skin?

I can confirm that if he is anything like you
I will not be able to keep breathing and
That is not a metaphor for how
You took my breath away.

Stop wasting your time on me,
I am nothing but broken bones
And broken hearts, stiched incorrectly
As so and I do not have enough glue to
Fix what is left in shambles.

The last time we spoke you asked me
Why I told you I still loved you and no
Longer wanted go be with you,
But that still stands and
I'll love you til the day I die.

Feb 2015

Mikaila

I HAVE NO DESIRE TO BE BEAUTIFUL, IF I AM TOO BEAUTIFUL TO TOUCH

There is something beautiful about two sad people who agree to hurt each other.
Something comforting.
It is a comfort only very damaged people understand- the tacit agreement to cause pain, and to receive it.
Pleasure is for people who have what they want.
But for those of us who are starving, ours is best peppered with suffering.
Being with someone who understands that carries its own worth-
I don't want you to make me feel good.
I couldn't stand it if you did.
I don't want you to touch me gently, or ask if I'm alright, or stop to look into my eyes.
I am starving, and so are you: I want your teeth.
I want you to make me hurt. And I want to hurt you.
I want you to hurt me because I'm not him, and I want to hurt you because you're not her.
We want to see each other suffer because we are starving and we need to feel that someone else is.
Don't hold back. I want you to lower me because I'm too good for her.
Don't love me, don't caress me. Dig your nails in. Drip candlewax on my stomach.
One step down from torture is all I can stand in the way of human connection, when it isn't her.
Punish me for looking at her like a baleful puppy tonight, even as you waited in my room with your soft skin and your sharp teeth.
There is nothing you can do that will be too violent, too brutal, too sadistic.
I don't want to be loved right now.
I am too raw.
I want to be touched. I want to be ruined. Leave marks. Smear lipstick.
Lower me because I am
Too
****
Good for her.
Let this heart know on no uncertain terms that its needs don't matter.
Help me **** it. Help me pin my demons to the bed and make them writhe, and I will do the same for you.
Let's exorcise our loves tonight and banish them to hell.
Let's tell our skin that it is irrelevant.
Let's say "*******" to the things that bind us. I will cut your heart out for him.
I will kiss your scars, not to heal them but to remind you that when you put them there you fought for something, something we both fight for now.
Hurt me. Fight her. Do it for her.
Do it for her because I'm not good enough to hurt.
Do it for her because I'm TOO good to hurt.
Crush me.
You could boil me alive and it wouldn't make up for her, so at least leave me bruised.
I will give you what you need, and you will give me what I need: not love, but contact.
Please,
Let my heart know on no uncertain terms that its needs
Don't
Matter.

There is something beautiful about two sad people who agree to hurt each other.

#love #depression #hate #pain #sadness #hurt #*** #longing

Feb 2015

Dust Bowl

Overdue Apologies

Sorry.
Five simple letters with the ability to twist my tongue into a jigsaw no **** kid would have the audacity to crack.
I'm sorry for never telling you I loved you.
I'm sorry I was so fixated on being destroyed that I couldn't comprehend that you could have kept me safe.
I'm sorry I check my heartbeat like clockwork,
But the aftermath of every close call is a permanent feeling of running out of time.
I apologize for holding your hand like your skin could possibly be anything but desirable to me.
Truth be told
I always liked the way you felt like an inside-out cigar.
I miss the way you breathed my pain like it was second hand smoke.
I'm sorry all I had to offer you was a busted frame and a hollow interior.
And I'm sorry I was too afraid to even give you that.
I'm sorry I treated your patience like a burden
For making you believe your smile was something I could choke on.
You were my proof that happiness doesn't only come in pill form
And I've been trying to drown these butterflies you left running through my head.
I killed the ones in my stomach the first time you put your arm around me.
I'd give anything to have them back.

All I seem to be able to say lately is "I'm sorry". I think I'm just trying to make up for all the times I'll never get to say it to you.

#love #poem #poetry #broken #sad #depression #life #heart #sadness #you

Feb 2015

Dust Bowl

Pieces

We were two severely broken things
and though I was promised someone to mend me
I couldn't bear to get better before you.
so I replaced all your lost pieces with my own
and glued you back together with the blood I lost from slicing my hands when I touched you.
And when you were whole again
you decided there weren't enough parts in the world to fix me
and even if there were, I wasn't worth the effort.
And now I am even more broken than before
and there aren't enough pieces for anyone else to mend me with
and I wonder if you ever touch your wrist and feel my veins under your skin
or look at your eyes and see my glass shining through.
Because I can feel every piece I lost
and every time my mother hugs me she asks me about the crater between my shoulder blades
that piece went to your ribs i think
and every ******* time you get hurt I know
because I can ******* feel it
and I can feel her cold fingers on my neck every time she touches your leg and I just want my ******* pieces back.

#love #heartbreak #broken #sad #depression #life #lonely #heart #sadness #relationships

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