Waiting for the paint to dry I want to start a fresh page but if I do not give this one its time it will bleed on to the next It will lose parts of itself and imprint where it does not belong Patience is a virtue, perhaps this is why
I am dramatic, manic-depressive, bipolar and a master of my own emotions. Trauma is an old friend of mine. I am used to be abandoned, people being charmed by my personality, people thinking that I am insane and my closest friends not knowing what to do with me. I can't turn off my emotions trust me I have tried in my past many times. I can't be emotionless but I can act like I don't care which is close enough. I will stay away from people when I feel bad and by bad I mean like pressure to the back of my eyes, world spinning, can't breathe type of insanity. I am used to being insane but the affect my insanity have on people is different for everyone in my life.
I used to read your poems but lately you don't write you're silent and aloof you know that isn't right. You can't close a door once opened you can't abolish all your dreams you're a poet of the heart mustn't fall apart at the seams. Say what you can in words they speak the message true spoken from the heart the poems will see you through. A hermit's not your style a recluse, you are not never give up writing of things that you've been taught. I used to read your poems I'd read them once again if you would send them out (this one's from a poet friend)
I don’t want to Open my mouth Because I’m still afraid The truth might come out And if it does If it really breaks free You’ll see what I am You’ll see the true me The one I hide With jokes and lies I’m a terrible person All jokes aside You don’t seem to know it You don’t seem to see Even a glimpse of that person That I know to be me I’m such a good actress I hide it so well Cover it with a laugh And you’ll never tell You see depth in my eyes You see love and emotion But what would you see If I ever did open I can’t bear to find out I can’t bear to show The me you don’t see The me that I know If I let it out If I let it be I know for a fact That you would hate me.
There were people in every room Inthe hallway In the street There was no where safe No escape No secret harbour Nothing Eventually he found an alleyway Wonderfully empty Until he noticed the human canvas Sitting crosslegged in the corner That's the day he painted his first masterpiece Thats the day that he met me
i adore cold weather. But not for the fires, Or the warmth of another person. I find something beautiful about it, And maybe even a bit lonely. It reminds me of bittersweet loss, And finding the strength to move on.
They said, "The most beautiful art is looking into someone's eyes when they talk about the things they love." And I said, "Or looking at someone you love. Or maybe, just maybe, by looking at the mirror is the most beautiful art anyone should appreciate."
Appreciation post for myself; for you and for everyone as well. You deserve more than the world has to offer.
I miss you I miss waking up to your voice I miss making you tea I miss our late night desserts I miss your comfort and words I miss your love stories and hugs I miss your worries and calls I miss combing your hair I miss your warmth, love and care I miss you
With age cracks appear On the skin and within. The map outlined In my palm was There at the beginning. I can only express What I was given Feels like excess, When some are Doing it tough and Enough is much. So when it bleeds Through, when I hold A leaking colander, And as I breathe in Lost time and a Razor blade presses On my skin, Let me remember To blame no one. We cannot pretend That every fine wine, Every line, does not Come to an end.
I love him I tell myself I know that We will be together forever I don’t believe that We could be separated My thoughts tell me that He’s the love of my life Sometimes my heart lies and says I could live an eternity Without him Like my friends say “We’re perfect for each other” And you can’t tell me He’s not the one.
Her embrace was a clinch to prevent hard blows. She pulled me close to push me away. Seeing my nakedness she leant me a dream of chainmail and shield. Taking love from me she gave a reprieve to a mind resigned to the slow death of feeling.
Ignoring my words she heard my faint silent heartbeat and understood that it was music too quiet for the world to hear and turned it up louder than I could stand. I wept in my deafness as she danced.
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 .
Hay No matter who you are You have my deepest respect!
Vanity 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
Catch you on the Blindside where your best Tricks await me to take the wind Right out of my sails and Bait me to anger
You must not consider or Really even think about or care About my feelings but You say you do and Insist it is so And so this Makes Sense in Your world
That place where I’m searching For your attention and reeling from Condescension and the Rejection created by You and your priorities Or is it the delivery of your goodbyes I don’t know Anymore
I swear to God (Please help me) I was about to write a Happy poem about Signs and Wonders Summer’s Cauldron and Other delights — even This morning with the waning gibbous Moon, as She likes to keep company With the rising Sun — these few days a month their romance blooms
Like ours — there are moments Even a ******* foundation, baby You said so yourself and I Don’t understand, never Did get your way of Negotiating Connections And I’m Heartbroken Today like a teen- Aged girl who doesn’t yet Know that this is the constant State of Love, no fleeting passage of Pain and whimsy tantrums like the Ones well-fed toddlers have — Those meltdowns the ******* likes of Which you’ve Never Even ******* Seen
Don’t worry, though, apart from A few brutal texts to you to threaten You with my venom and lies You won’t hear from Me I can’t dwell Here in this Bubble of Nonsense And Hurt I’ll go to No place And be Nobody Again Yes, ******* again For the Livelong Day