Hello Poetry is a poetry community that raises money by advertising to passing readers like yourself.

If you're into poetry and meeting other poets, join us to remove ads and share your poetry. It's totally free.
Want to submit your work? Request an invite
 709° 
Nico Jackson
deep brown eyes
angel hair
bare thighs
we can go anywhere
under these purple skies

****’s only one mistake away
but it wouldn’t be so bad with you
I read a quote somewhere that said,
"I don't know how many times I have survived myself, without telling anyone else."

And I felt those words shoot through every nerve in my body. I felt them so deeply.

And I wonder how many of us feel the same way.

How many nights we fought off the suicidal thoughts, the urge to cut, the urge to purge, the urge to run or to hide out, alone, too afraid to worry or bother our friends and family.

How many days and nights have we all suffered in our own darkness alone?

People like us fight a battle no one can ever fathom because it's a battle no one can see. And we don't let them.

I've fought myself and survived myself alone so many nights.

There were nights I use to lose my own battle. But some how still came out alive.

I guess that's how we keep going. Because every time we give up we come out stronger.

You fight yourself and beat yourself up for so long that eventually you become a master of surviving a war.

We're warriors.

"I don't know how many times I've survived myself, without telling anyone else."

Tonight, I'm telling all of you.

I survived myself.

And if you're still here and you're reading this, you survived yourself too.

It's not easy but you did it.

And I'm so proud of you all.
The original quote "I dont know how many times I survived myself, without telling anyone else.", which triggered the whole poem was written by @deadwatered. A talented poet I follow on tumblr.
 354° 
Eden
your pathetic apologies did not
save you then,
your pitiful threats of war do not
save you now,
you are lucky i carry the mercy
of a mother in my soul.
because if i didn’t,
i would pull the rain from the clouds
and drown you in their sorrows.
 328° 
grace
Make like a cigarette
burn out.

-J
I'm so full of anger
 248° 
Lily
I remember the evening
that we sat clinging
to paper cups
of coffee gone cold

over secrets spilled and memories told
two bodies cursed
with hearts grown old

behind your eyes
I found new worlds
A winding road stretched out for miles
to a small cafe at the end of the isle

Sweet pastries filled the mouths
of those who sat beside us
and stayed for a while.

How the hours went by,
people just passing through
The descending sun ending
a forever with you.
 228° 
kailee cardinal
he didnt want anything serious in his life
but he was serious about that....
 206° 
Melinda Barrett
Love holds you at gunpoint
Intentionally pulls the trigger
Hides the bulletcases
And wonders why you’re gun shy
 193° 
William Maxwell
Clean my soul with bleach
Let it course through the veins
Until it reaches my very heart
Then I will depart
At 02:34am
To the pearled gates
Riding the crimson waves
Think of me
Now and then
Remember me fondly...
 178° 
AuEcologica
If you could talk to your younger self what would you say?
Would you laugh would you cry, dislike the same?
Love as you do or run away?

Tell her not worry, your world will change,
do not do not be afraid
do not do not be afraid

Tell her: you are enemies.
Tell him: you got to change.

If you could
If you could
If you could talk to your younger self, what would, say?

That sometimes, sometimes,
You must be hurt, to see
Be hurt, to see

Baby steps,
There’s so much, so much that you want to say

If you could see her
If you could see him

What would you do?
What would you do?

If you could, face him
If you could, face her

What would you do?
What would you do?

If you could
If you could
If you could talk to your younger self, what would say?
 160° 
Dennis Willis
Blah blah blah
Blah blah

Blah
fucin'
blah


Copyright@2018 Dennis blah blah Willis
 139° 
Dream
Its 3.30 am and im still up....

The web has me entangled....
 128° 
Darrell Landstrom
Many things feign importance;
Discern them.
 124° 
Adreishka Luciano
Que tonta
My love, I’m so much better than she

Que puta
My darling, looks don’t matter

Que cabrona
My world, can she fill the hole in your heart like I know I can?

Yo la ví cabriando
My sweet, I could never step out on you like her

Señor tan pobresito
My everything, I’m so sorry I am not there to take you away

Tè amo
My heart, my love is all for you and no one else

Always
December 6th, 2014
 121° 
Igna V
It was deadly,
deadly sweet.
 121° 
Jessica
When they ask me why I stayed so long
I explain that because of you
I never ran out of things to write about.

Looking back,
I wonder if maybe all along
I was looking for a writing prompt
instead of a lover.
 119° 
Maria Etre
We fall in love
like we fall for
dessert
quickly
and
irrationally
 115° 
Arden
Just a cut
just a scratch
what’s that mark
it was just the cat
just an excuse
just another lie
what’s with the bracelets
just fashion why?
just a tear
just a scream
why were you crying
just a bad dream
But it’s not just a cut
or a tear
or a scream
it’s just one more
until it’s not
until you die
 110° 
Cosmo Beck
M- Marvelous
Y- Young Soul

F- Fast Thinker
U- Uplifting
T- Tall (in their heart)
U- Unbelievably talented
R- Rockstar material
E- Elephants (always our thing)

W- Wild (and i love it)
I- Incredible
F- Flamboyant
E- Everlasting love for you
Family Gathering

He dreaded family gathering and now
he was in the middle of one.

Tried to lasso the wind (Samuel Johnson)
of old slights remembered.

They turned to him called him a coward
always siding with his mother or being absent.

He just sat as not hearing the coward bit riled
as usual he absented going into his den.
 99° 
Stephen Blaine
Cold and damp, swamped by dismay
She left me, on this fragile Saturday.
Here I sit, on a porch for a day.
I never thought I’d travel off.
When you realize, there’s nothing left to say...
You arm yourself, emotionally, in another way.
Not to dare say nostalgic, that’d be careless to relay.
I’d rather scoff at the notion, of caring at all.
So, I’ll just sit and stare, as my friends come and go.
I’ll wait, patiently... my mind blue with frost.
No thanks, I’ll wait... no matter the cost.
 94° 
jenna
dear you,

i’m in love.
yes. you were
waiting, i
bet, for this.
this time, though,
it is not
what you would
think. it’s me
this time, not
you, although
it’s still you,
but not in
the way it
used to be
you. it’s my
fault this time,
my doing,
my painful,
pitiful,
suffering.
it’s you in
the sense that
i cannot
control you.

this time,

it’s your mind and your thoughts
the things that slip off of your tongue
the words you put, pencil to paper
the ideas that come out in your songs

it’s your eyes and your sight
the careful observation of beauty
the need to bask in warm, pure light
the stare you give me, rarely now

it’s your movements and your touch
the hugs where you grip my shoulders
the times where i’m drunk and playing with your fingers
the warmth you give off and your gorgeous smile

none of them
are mine to
have, to take
to keep, to
love, to break

i miss you
and to go
and detach
to break what
we have, that’s
the hard way
out. but i
am trying
to help me.

i feel the
same way i
did when you
said i was
wrong about
this. about
how i feel.

i try to
not panic
and quiet
sob in the
bathroom at
3:27 am
every night.

i’m hoping
disposing
myself of
you, means that
the dreams will
go away
too. but if
they stay,
i’ll give you
a quick call.
probably
a text, to
be honest.

i love you,
unhealthily,
with every
part of me.

keep in touch,
please.

love,

me.
it is better to regret doing something instead of not doing it at all.
 89° 
Ariana Bagley
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.

Now read from bottom to top.
 87° 
Desire
you,
and me,
we are,
unified souls,
simply, united,
an unbreakable set,
underway, sailing,
like ship and sea,
this two-way street,
you,
and me,
we are,
us. [one].
XVI. Committed
 82° 
Ally Ann
A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
I wanted to say,
lock yourself in a room,
scream until you have
a poem and no voice.
Open your veins and bleed
until you know that your bones
are pure words and sorrow.
Act as if you slit your own throat
and all you can bleed
are your own regrets
and all of the darkness
you boxed up for inspiration.
Write your mom a letter,
tell her you're leaving
and you won't be back for awhile
Because being a writer is traveling
through all seven layers of ****
and denying anything is wrong.
Forget loving yourself
when all you have is a pen and paper
fused to your wrist
and Jesus is tapping at your skull
saying turn back now.
Warn the neighbors that if they smell burning
It's just your soul
clawing at the front door trying to get in.
Learn how to be alone.
Learn how to lose everything you have
in order to feel release,
learn how to only feel deceased
from now on.
A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
All I said was
don't
 82° 
Abby
Not everything needs a poem
Sometimes
it’s already

good enough.
 79° 
Jaxey
Him
You were a face of November
A face that burned through my mind
As I griped my phone with a shaky hand
And heavy defeat
I read our conversation
Splattered with the words
Of my most recent confession
And wondered
What I had said
To leave me
With wet hands
And another reminder
That I will never be good enough
This is based on recent events that happened with me and a boy that I am still utterly and hopelessly in love with and how he rejected me. And yet even though it causes me so much pain to even look at him, I can't help but be drawn back to him. If you have any advice on how to fill an empty heart, I'm all ears <3
 76° 
Kaity
this isn’t going to make sense
cause it’s not supposed to
and if I’m being honest
this isn’t for you
it’s not even for me

I’m stuck
I’m trapped
I’m lost
I’m every other word that describes people who feel at a dead end

I’m typing on a ****** phone
That’s connected to a ****** connection
That could possibly be a metaphor for my life

I’m writing
Because I don’t know what else to do

I’m writing
Cause that’s what they told me to do

But they also told me that what I think isn’t always true
That I’m special and I just don’t see it

But that’s the thing
I don’t see it

And if I don’t see it then why should it matter if anyone else does

And if I’m thinking something why should it matter if it’s true

What matters is that it’s in my head
What matters is that it’s always there

But here I am
Stuck in the same place
Back to square one
No progress made
The same questions, whether true or not

Will I amount to anything?
Do I really help?
Am I really worthwhile?
Do you actually care?

I see these people
When I’m online
They smile and post
They edit and pose

I can’t help but wonder

Do you really smile, or do you just do it to look happy like me?
Do you really feel happy, or are you trying to lie like me?
Do you understand what I feel?

Or is it just me?

I’m not trying to be selfish
I don’t want a lot
I just want to be happy
And I want others to be happy with me
But neither is happening

So instead there’s a poem
That doesn’t even ryhme
That makes no sense
  I’ll try harder
 65° 
HaleyBoo
The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do?

It wasn’t you letting you go.

That was difficult though, to swallow my pride and wear a smile to hide the fact I’m not okay.

Oh no, the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do? Was finally admit to myself the truth.

It was admitting that you were never mine to begin with.
 59° 
Kayla
Set the alarm
Lock the doors
Lock the windows
Lock the shutters
Find the cricket bat – “put it by your bed”
Say goodnight to mom and dad

Although young, not naïve
I knew every night had the possibility of being my last

A routine that is now muscle memory.

Fear –
You may think
But life –
Normal for me.

Wake up
Turn off the alarm
Unlock the doors
Open the windows
Open the shutters
Put the cricket bat in the cupboard

Never being able to be left alone at home. Unwillingly dragged from store to store.

But – that’s the thing –
People don’t know the real Her,
They know the exquisite scenery, the unforgettable wildlife
They don’t know… But I do.
Because She is my home
Because being in constant fear for my life –
is normal.

Confused –
What do I tell people about Mother when they ask?
The person who raised me, taught me how to be grateful, how to ride a bike,         how to love.
Do I tell them? Will I scare them?

Although hidden beneath the tyranny – I would say –
the bloodshed
the faces of malnourished children left for dead on the side of the road the poverty struck soil the corruption      the greed the hunger the death the separation of class and race

Although a place feared –
Africa.

My Africa –
Whose sunshine you feel ignited in your soul
My Africa –
Whose smile is irresistibly contagious
My Africa –
Whose heart lies in the grassy terrain
The golden dunes of sand
The never-ending mountain tops
My Africa –
Who is the heart of various people
           cultures
   languages
          All who call Her home.
She is –
Where my heart lies even if I am thousands of miles away
Where my mind wanders from day to day.

Her air, instantly calls you
Her smell, instantly smelt
Welcoming you ever so dearly –
      Home.

Like all good mothers,
She is the one who can handle both the tranquil and turmoil,
the love and war.

She is my home. She is who I fear of disappointing.

My Africa –
is beautiful.
Home sick...
 58° 
Aki
You always put others before yourself
so what about your happiness?
Dry
.
It
is
true,
you are
totally right.
I'm as dry as
a desert, I'm a dead
empty land. I used to be
a  jungle  when  the  clouds
where by my side, and now that
they are gone, my trees, my dreams
they dried and died. Because of this,
nothing grows inside of me, there is
only silence and despair. I can't feel
what  I  write,  I  barely  feel alive
I want to feel human again
Oh ***, I really miss
the rain
Es frustrante tener  las palabras pero no el tiempo y luego tener el tiempo y no recordar las palabras
 55° 
Bethany M P
The sand shifts beneath your feet,
Your heart relaxes to a quiet beat,
The waters seem to breathe day and night,
Close your eyes take it in do not fight,
The wind satisfies your soul,
Just relax now you've played your role,
Touch the sand now scoop it up,
Hold it in your hands and form a cup,
Now let it seep through towards the sandy ground,
Your soul was lost but now its found,
The weather you desire will come your way,
Just stand closer to the bay,
Soon life will be eternal for you and me,
Look beyond the ocean and tell me what you see.
                          -open heart poetry
 52° 
Pagan Paul
.
It is cold on the dark side of the Sun.
There is no heat,
not even in a thousand summers.
There is no light,
not even at the end of a tunnel.
Because on the dark side
there is No Sun,
not even in a billion Stars.



© Pagan Paul (09/12/18)
.
 49° 
kB 2
Carry me gently to the moon
My heart hurts darkness makes me swoon
I need to be rid of this intense guilt
Let me curve like a cat on the moon’s tilt
Let me touch tips of stars
Feel their heat heal my scars
When shadow comes I’ll travel home
A new energy fills my bones
I tingle with stars the moon on my back
And no longer feel dark’s vicious attack

~kb
 48° 
Shah Fahad Sani
A blink of words
That can't be said
Or even be written
She is poem of thousand words


She is fierce and gentle
All at once
She's a song
An unending song


She is a sparkle
She is a shine
She is the only thing
That i want to call mine

She is my everyday
And an everynight
She is every morning
And an every twilight


She is all i know
She is all i see
She is a sweet melody
She is an  unmatching rhythm
 46° 
shima
you're leaving.
you're leaving you're going you're gone.
you might as well tear me to pieces
since you've already taken my heart
what will happen to our time? what will
this change bring? will i still be searching
for you subconsciously despite knowing
you'll be gone.
 45° 
Em MacKenzie
Tell me I’m not ****** for allowing myself to feel,
searching out for the next wound before letting the former heal,
I’ve been convincing myself that the invisible path is real,
but it’s not wide enough for two; one can stand and one can kneel.

If there’s anything in this world that tightens my chest,
it’s the moment I am strangled by vulnerability.
I keep it chained away to the very best,
to the very best of all my abilities.
Take all those thrown away phrases
and piece them back together to hit my ears
it’s funny how the long silence still amazes,
amazes me after all these quiet years.

Are you Sonic the hedgehog,
‘cause this is a chaos emerald.
Wipe away the tears to see the fog,
my world shakes when once it trembled.
I’ve got an easy road ahead of me
where the path could be so easy,
but I’m drawn to walk into the sea,
I wish that instinctive pull would leave me.

We humans are such destructive creatures
we turn soil to scorched earth with just one touch.
It’s the curse of emotions and all it features,
makes us decline a cast and accept a crutch.
We fall prey to our monsters like a disease,
do I pick life support or a clean cut cure?
A solid steel spine or weak and shaking knees?
Toxic lungs or a gasp of air too pure?

Should I swallow this gulp of mundane routine
conform and erase all individuality?
The white picket fence in photographs is so pristine
but it’s covered in dust and mold the ***** eye can’t see.

My storybook ending is incomplete
as I didn’t much care for the ending.
I traded in tragedy instead of something sweet,
‘cause I’ve never been so good at pretending.
All along there are holes both in the souls and plot,
and I wish to roll but can’t afford the toll as empty hands are all I got
 45° 
Emma P
From the dust of chaos comes order,
For in that rubble, ideas are gleaned.
From the bright light of death comes the darkness of life,
From us comes everything in between.
Next page