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Find the hidden self within
Know the self
Find the lost self
Let the trapped self
That Trying to gasp  
Let the self breathe
Let all emotions flow
Let it breathe
My dear
Let it live
Let it flourish
Let it spread
Let it radiate
Let it come
And let it go
Empty yourself
“Let it come
What’s hidden  
Your anger
Let come
Let it go
It comes
Because it’s there
Once it’s gone
There will be nothing left
But your true self
That’s pure love and peace
You feel it
Let whatever hidden
Surface up
Let it come
Let it go
Be empty
And then
Come to me
We both will be empty
And ready to merge
as one
Let it come
Let it go
My dear
Let it go
sandra wyllie
can I pen a poem
if I don’t know him? I see
the man’s brows rise
and fall.
So, a note I do call.

You ask
can I sing a song
if it rains on my lawn? I hear
the clouds clap their applause –
So, I sing without pause.

You ask
can I paint a picture
if I’ve no liquor? And make
the picture sunny
as the world is grey and runny?
So, I splatter it in dots
and watch it defrost.
i have everything i could have ever wanted..

so why won’t this aching feeling go away?
why do i still drag my feet along?

when the bridge i am walking on is made of solid gold?
Are these scratches on my hand from my cat or a knife, or from catching the edge of a brick caught in mid-flight?
Will I remember the blood that dripped off my fingers to gently caress the paper walls, or will I find my hand split open again to replace the pain?
Are these dumb questions? I've heard there were none but right now I might drown in this lack of ability to distinguish what's really hacking the sytem.
I was raised learning
that an incredible love
amounted to an equally
incredible guilt
towards the choices
that are made in our names
the opportunities missed
and the dreams abandoned

I was taught to apologize
to that love
long before I understood
what I was apologizing for
never once asking
where the limits of my
incredible guilt stood
when to stop nor if I could
Mr Shankley
I kissed a girl with a broken smile;
nothing could come near.
She carved it with a pocket knife;
slit from ear to ear.
And she wears it like her favourite scarf;
it keeps her from the cold.
So I told her its only woven by
her enemies of old.
Just a young teen girl
With an addiction
To wanting to be needed

Another day,
Another man
She hated the way she was treated

Maybe if she was prettier
Or smarter
She could have succeeded

He said she was the one
She’d forever be his
But turns out he cheated

The pain stung
But she got over it
Just another memory deleted
Jon York
Inside you

is where I want to



within the folds

of your mind


the sweet softness

of your soul,


as I release my love

deep within you.
                                     Jon York   2019.
Dear me,
Don't just sit
Rise, and pursue greatness.

Don't just watch
Go after what you want.

Don't just exist
Strive and start living.

Don't just dream
Work hard and aim for success.

Don't get tired
Keep hiking until you get to the peak.
I’m made of rubber
Worn thin over time                        
Used over and over                                            
My heart is elastic,                                                                                    
It snaps back into                                                                      
Place, but it breaks                                                
When your blade gets                
Too sharp.

I feel like a balloon,
Floating some days                                                      
Then punctured on            

Mend me,                                                              
Breathe me                                
Back to life…
Whether a comma, or colon:
Punctuation slows my rolling
I need no period. When I end
no Capitalization when I begin
Rulelessly I flow my art
  Not a single!
Exclamation mark
Are you not the one
Who'll know?
Where a question mark
No longer goes

Warp the structure
Bend the lines
Put in repeat
Let emotion unwind
Make yourself
Your poetry's the best
Be your own ruler
Pass your own test

Take your own road
Where ever it leads
Lover or hater
It's all poetry!
Traveler Tim
Strange, the Hellopoetry computer demanded I put two stars on this poem to repost it to the front page... But it was worth it, it’s been on here for over a year now, I appreciate it Elliot.

No matter who you are
You have my deepest respect!

All is vanity
The meanings of passion
The aesthetic expression
The lines we draw and stay within
Even love is beyond intent
Vanity transcends
Flowing from our pens
And so we breathe again
euphoric jinx
i'm so sorry if anyone has ever made you feel like its hard to love you
i love you
i'm not afraid of dying
i'm lying when i say
i don't want to die
after all, but
life is just a cycle
they say
we are born to die

really, i am afraid
of existence
i look forward to the end
i'd never say
death scares me
now read it from the bottom up :)
The parallel love
of two birds ,
Is in search of infinity,
But the journey never
ends which is in search of
non existing body .

I am no longer petal of your flower,
I am no longer the shine of your sun ,
I am no longer the sound of your music, still I am stuck in your dream.

Every thing has a end but ,
But our love will remain the same ,
even after we close our eyes .
We are all aware with the power of love ,but only some of us can fell it .
I am the deep, the sky in reverse
I have what you seek, for better or worse

I am the blue of infinite depth
I've swallowed the crews and cleared the decks

You are afraid or maybe intrigued
Of the place where you played and also was freed

Kiss me now like you did before
Give me your vow and the ocean is yours.
I know you.
Sometimes you say things, expecting that I won’t understand, and I think it’s strange because
I know you.
That’s what this is. I know you,
And I want you,
And I care about you
Don’t want no one else.
You might not know me,
The stanchions you use to prop yourself up eating all that I have fed you,
In the darkness,
In the night,
But I know you.
And I want you anyway.
rig f laurel
when i died the first time
inhaling an ocean
they said
this was not the plan
turn back.

and when i did
i tried to fly with no lessons
nor wings
and they called me

but i came round
and sought a chainsaw
and then a mermaid
and then death herself
i think she was

and each time
they said the same thing
over and over and over and over:
wrong destiny. wrong destiny.
go again.

the instructions are in a language i do not possess.
I want to feel your hands around my neck
A soft and warm pressure. Not squeezing, just existing.
I want to feel the comfort of your embrace,
The love in your touch, your feel.
I want your hands around mine.
They’d waited too long to say

“I love you”.

3 words. 3 syllables.

Yet they held millions of emotions unspoken.

and now that they’d done it, they wouldn’t,
couldn’t, stop

they told each other all the time. In the end of the argument and before the good news.

In the middle of the storm, even though it was hard to see, and after, when the raging winds had settled on a breeze

before the rising sun turned the sky pretty colors and after it flickered out and faded away into the dark

Underneath the stars that their love had been etched into

There was no love until death for them. Because it would never stop. Their love was beyond. It rose above any border that would dare to try and stop it. There was no finish line

because they were each other’s end game.  
we both admit to still having our pictures on our phones
the one where you shredded yourself into pieces,
and tossed them into the air,
telling me to catch you
but I lay on the ground--
waiting for you to reach me
you are what i see
when my mind wanders,
or when my eyes drift to sleep.

my last thought at night
and my first in the morning.
Crystal Freda
Why is poetry dying
when we still have the gift?
If we still have water
then we still have a ship.
We can sail to the places
these words take us.
We are still shaken
by the words that make us.
Why should we let poetry die
when there is so much to explore?
If only people read it
and discovered more.
Miss Ohio
I stretch
Arms high
Legs long,
Reaching for the sky.
God help me,
If I could
Reach Heaven,
This pain would subside.

And all these months
Of breaking
And bending
Over and over and over
Would be a mere dream.
That somehow
The fighting
The tears
The I love you, but I can't
Made up memories.


I stretch,
Arms to the sky,
No looking down.
Remind myself...
I don't need you
To get me high.
I have wings
You can't touch.

I can get me high.
He asks me "don't you just love her? "

As if to tell me how perfect he thinks she is

As if to tell me I cannot be compared

And I want to tell him no


I do not like her

Or the way she treats you

Or the way she speaks to you

I don't like that she gets to kiss you

Or to touch you

Or that she takes for granted the way you make everyone around you laugh even when I know you're hurting

I don't like that she is yours

And I don't like that I can never be
I think you died
you forgot to tell me

no invitation to the burial or the funeral
why didn't you tell me

was it an accident
tell me

why did you leave me so easily
for a boy who will only give you heartbreak

my friend died
she said I can't talk to you anymore
haven't heard from her in months

happy new year
you threw away our good friendship like a piece of paper

I'll visit your grave one day
press all your flowers and crush the ashes into the wind

you're dead to me
I know you're in trouble
only you can save yourself now
I poured myself
inside your cup
pretended to be tea
your lips pursed to the rim
burning kiss
bile churns
you forgot
I'm made of sins
Luna Maria
are the ink
for the pen
a poet uses
to write
- L.M.
charles bateman
Sunlight glistening waves crashing down , living waters , you shall thirst no more . Inner beauty without blemish unflawed. Love unrequited is thigh reward. A beating heart living long in your disdain , yours is a tumultuous companion ,seek thee a dry quiet plain and there find your peace , not undone but complete without end.
Mitch Prax
To this day,
your name
still hurts my tongue
but I still say it anyway.
Sometimes I like to
hear my soul
gently tear itself
Megan H
I never realized
How easy it could be
To lose yourself-

I stopped taking time for myself,
Gave myself to others,
Piece by piece.

Every time I put the puzzle back together,
Another piece was missing.
Or perhaps stolen.

One day I will no longer exist.
and i know
that if i’m ever at
rock bottom again,

you’ll be face down
in the dirt with me,

probably digging
for bones
i’m never gonna feel
alone again

not as long as
i’ve got you,
puppy boy
dip your fingers into the richness of my soul
dip yourself into the depths of my love
dip your body into the thickness of my thighs
wanderlust in my love
Karly Codr
sometimes i wonder what it's like
to be a star
to look down on the world
while it's asleep
to watch the lost souls
wander outside at night
and look up at the sky
and smile
i wish i could be a star
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you
if only i could chase you with pizza but shots don't work like that
In the cold, dark
        of January,
         I remembered
        the most.
  As the chill
      snapped bones
              like branches,
     as the afternoons
   bathed themselves
in gray,
     as the birds
and the backs
so did my lips
   around your name.
I'm so happy
     January is almost
over now.
Jonas ernest
Feel like I'm floating. People talk but I don't really hear. Bought a cat cause I'm lonely but now I despise it because it needs.

Windows have frost, maybe vitamin deficient. Jack it to memories of a faceless  beauty on a night that cared so long ago.

But now I'm haunted. I'll see it soon. Just wish I could be alone; truly, truly, truly alone.  Where no light shines but withers
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems like *******.
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.
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