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 550° 
jessica grace

people come and go,
like a ticket with an
expiration date.
without warning,
they just leave.

but you,
who brought so
much joy and comfort,
⸺ through your music,
i was able to learn
how to smile again.
you, with your honey-like
voice, hooked me with
the lyrics you’ve made.
i wrapped myself
around your songs,
knowing that it is
what keeps me going.

but you,
who brought so
much joy and comfort,
couldn’t learn how to
feel the happiness you
give.
i’m sorry.
i know you tried your best.
you tried to find the light so
hard that it must have blinded you.
and thank you.
i know you gave your best,
until the very end.
you gave us music that will
comfort us in our sad days.
you gave us the inspiration,
to keep going no matter
how strong the storm gets.

you might have went without
warning, but you are treasured.
your soul is alive as we will keep
your music going. we will blast it
from the rooftops until they hear.
the love we have for you.
this one’s for you,
kim jonghyun.
my 11:11.

 536° 
A H S

It's times like these were I long for your soothing voice and soft touch to comfort me in this difficult time. I am certain, it is clear, my feelings are no longer doubted. I have spent time pondering and crying only to come to the conclusion that I love you, I only love you and will always love you. Time is painful, a constant reminder  of what I want and what I can't have, yet. This is the only thing keeping me going, the only thing keeping me from giving up. I can picture us in a thousand different moments, happy and loved. These moments pop into my head without making them, I don't know exactly why they do but I know they are from you God. These moments make me smile like they're from the past, memories. I have to remind myself that they're only a dream. I have to remind myself that I am merely alone, just a girl without love, without anyone. It's times like these were I wish I could run into the mountains and never come back.

 421° 
Nathan A Brock

You say that words
Are only words
That they only have the power
That I allow them to have

But if that's true

If words are only words
Then the words of thousands
Of poets
Mean nothing

Words have power whether you choose to give it to them or not
 350° 
connectixns

When she looked her worst, I would tell her
that she was beautiful, this kept her proud.
When she looked her best, I would tell her
she was having an off day, this kept her humble.
In the middle of June every dam inside her broke and
tears surrounded her until she wrinkled.
It was then she convinced herself she was old
and tired.
By the time December rolled around no one could find her...
Was her absence a disappearance? Or merely hibernation?
Either way, it was entirely silent and we all wondered what she was thinking about up there
locked in her mind’s tower.
In January, a flower sprouted from under her apartment door
then another..and so on
We all sung praises and celebrated her smile, her laugh was sweeter than honey.
I sat with her and asked her why she stayed gone for so long, told her how much we missed her.
She looked at me and said
i have grown 21 times in my life, birthday after birthday
and only now have I opened my eyes all the way

 322° 
lmbf

"and the songbirds are singing like they know the score

and i love you, i love you, i love you like never before."
- c. m.v.

i still do.
i never stopped.

 288° 
Mims

I knew you

and you knew me

Our messages told stories

of us taking over the galaxy

Flashback
 235° 
Harozina

it's hard to put into words
what you feel from time to time.

do you know what "joviality" means?
i don't.

i searched it up - it's a synonym for happiness
i still don't know what that is.

Well someone hasn't been around for a long time, and would you look at that: I still don't know what I'm doing. (save me from my school work I'm begging you all)
 210° 
BR
Bed

Heads heavy
Eyes lids hanging
Dragging limbs
Messy hair
No light comes through the windows
Only the pink pink sky
The world looks asleep
So why should I be up ?

 185° 
Eva

It's truly
a
chaotic
thing
to
suddenly
see

starlight,
heaven,
and
everything

in someone's eyes

 177° 
Solitary Sac

Take me back
To the time
When toys were made
Out of plastic

Not people.

I have been played with..I am being played with.. Is there any escape?
 162° 
killjoy

almost is a sad word
you almost changed the game
you almost changed the world
you almost had true fame

self-medication was all you knew
and you knew that your time was soon
it broke through as your passion grew
cracks in your voice, singing out of tune

a star shopping hellboy, praying to the sky
you were slowly breaking, not even knowing why
popping pills kept you numb
but you never let it make you dumb

lil peep, you were misunderstood
you helped as many as you could
you never in your life glorified drugs
the media portrayed you as a thug

you were caring, you were smart
a tattooed face means nothing
what matters is the heart
and you were always loving

you knew you should’ve reached out
you knew you had friends all around
they loved you for more than just clout
but they can’t help you six feet underground

you are not a lesson to be taught
you are not another druggie
you were a soul that was distraught
not a horror story for junkies

it doesn’t feel like you’re gone yet
it hasn’t settled in
but taking xans was like russian roulette
it was bound to happen

peep, we hope you’re somewhere better
we hope you’re free of pain
you always were so clever
it’s sad you lost the game

you were a good guy and i wish i had known you more when you were alive
 132° 
Infamous one

He always felt like he was at a disadvantage because he grew up less fortunate. While others had support his family never left the area. He went into the world tried more than most failed but never stopped believing kept striving he always said to his siblings he was the best brother. They didn't believe him and took his remarks for a comedic punchline.
He worked retail and in a family own restaurant he loved his jobs but learned the hard way never to work with family. He worked twice as hard because he didn't want others to say he only got his job because he was related to the owner. He didn't like when others talked about him or had this twisted perspective of how they viewed him.
He would. Move on to retail you treat others right and give your all it's easy to do when others don't take pride in their work. He was willing to learn and grow in the company but can only go so far.
He would spend lots of time writing on his down time trying to make sense of the confusion. Writing was his voice because when he spoke someone was easily offended or upset by his honest. He told the truth not what others wanted to her. All his life he got the truth and valued honesty because lies and fake people are only cheating themselves.
He had many friends some cut him out but he understands kids and marriage family is first. He wished them the best. While others would bad mouth him behind his back and fake to his face. He was honest and told them to their face things got twisted and those phony friends made him out to be the bad guy. He would be a protector of his peeps stood tall for them when it came to him needing them, they are no where to be found. He learned to let go it was hard but he realized all these friends are doing everything they criticized him about.
He quit drinking for a friend but now he does it for himself. He would alter himself for a girl who doesn't like him the way he liked her. Tolerated annoying girlfriends who ended up cheating or dumping these peeps he thought highly of but they never gave him a thought or took him into consideration. He ruined his relationship so he can hang with his friend. His friends never made time for him when they had a girlfriend when the were arguing he was the first person they called and said they'd never go back it was over and that was a lie he heard too many times. He eventually stopped caring and focused on his priorities.

 81° 
Phoebe Woods

It's the kind of relationship
where he says
I love you
and I say
thank you.

 77° 
Jolene

He's my master of reality
a traveler transcending my mind
his nature ripens our sanctuary
a pebble in a space and time

He's my art of apprehension
the strength in all that flows
his appearance beholds me
carrying hearts wherever he goes

To be loved by the lancer of lines
Staring off into beauty we find

 67° 
Traci

I think this went too far, too fast
Now the time is running out.
Your truth is all mixed up with lies.
My heart is aching, full of doubt.
I thought I saw something in your smile,
Your words were breaking through my wall.
If only I could have known the danger,
crumbling meant a nasty fall.
The ghost of things that never happened
hang around in my weary mind.
You let me down with a final blow,
just wish those words had not been kind.
It's hard to hate someone who shows care
as they stick their knives inside your heart.
You think that I would have known by now
that to fall in love is to fall apart

 64° 
Annete

Each night before bedtime,
Just like the artist on his poorest, in the dark
I am creating Characters
To get away and travel
Without leaving bed.
It’s my endowment
And my curse
As I go miles far
But always end up next to you

I am an artist
 63° 
Francie Lynch

I'm a young man in the spring,
Looking forward to anything...everything;
Undaunted in the offerings.
Nothing's too demanding,
What's out of reach is possible:
If I lift my arms I can fly,
Open my mouth I sing,
Close my eyes, I paint;
Reach out and envelope
What others too soon reject.
It's the spring of my year,
And summer's coming on.

I'm a thirty-something in summer.
Disappointments and expectations abound
Under a cloud-split sunny sky.
I can flap my arms, looking chicken-like,
I'm asked not to sing so loud,
I close my eyes, one at a time,
To read the chart.
My arms are getting full,
But I have room for more.

Autumn comes on my heels.
It's a time for preparation.
Savings, spendings, give-aways
Fill forty years of duty.
Taxes, mortgages, tuition,
Weddings, christenings,
Hellos and goodbyes to the loved.
Winter is coming in off the lake.

This is my first day of white solstice.
The least amount of light today,
And I can feel it now.
I close my eyes to nap,
I am grounded, well-grounded,
I accompany the singers with a uke,
And lip sync.
It has been a good year,
With many winters ahead.

 61° 
CJ Tims

My Life
Is like a dagger to the heart.
But I’m still here.
As the blood runs down my chest,
And the thoughts of leaving
Run through my mind
So fast that there’s no destination,
I look back.
The dagger missed by an inch.
Today’s not my day,
So I shall stay,
Until the time comes.
Naturally.
Nothing,
And I mean nothing,
Should push you over the edge,
Oh so far,
That you let that dagger strike.
Stand tall.

for anyone who has thought about ending it, just stand tall and let depression know it’s not in charge.. :)
 60° 
Pallavi Sharma

There is always a ray of hope
for everything to work
on its own.
The threads that
were all tangled
wounded up in a roll.

There is always a ray of hope
for good things
to peep from a hole.
All you need
is a bait
to grab it and hold.

Never give up .Always hope for the best to happen.There is always something great and amazing hidden somewhere for you.
 47° 
Robert

I like everything about you
From the way you look
To the way you talk
But if you don't
Then it is okay to say no
I won't mind being alone
As long as it's what you prefer
True love isn't jealousy
Of who you meet instead of me
True love is acceptance
Of the way you want to live
And if that way doesn't include me
I don't mind
As long as you're happy and free

 46° 
Janie Elizabeth

They are under my skin.
They are everywhere.
How can I make this end?!
They slowly disappear.

The insects leave me be.
All light fades to black.
I wake up and a light I see.
On a gurney, memories I like.

In the ambulance I can't breathe.
I lose feeling of my body.
I feel my soul get dragged beneath.
Darkness consumes me.

I feel numb inside and feel doubt.
Hours pass until I see light.
Days, I was missing, and no way out.
Drugged but I won the fight.

I was drugged at 14, I had hallucinations and seizures from it. my heart stopped on the way to the hospital 3 different times. it was the worst experience of my life
 46° 
Rebecca Sorenson

Remember,
when we were younger
and we were scared
of the monster in the closet?

We never asked questions about it
why it was there
why the closet, of all places?
we were too terrified

But as we grew older
some of us stopped being afraid
because we knew it couldn’t hurt us
why be scared of something that couldn’t hurt you?

But some of us didn’t
to some of us, the monster grew
and it would attack us
late at night

Some of us weren’t afraid
but later in life
we confronted the monster again
and all those years of work dwindled down the drain

However, as we all grew
we, at some point, accepted the monster
sometimes welcoming it as a friend,
someone to listen

And as the days went by
all of us growing older
and finding ourselves, one day at a time,
the monster disappeared

It was like a weight off our chest
we were sad it was gone, but happy all the same

We could finally leave the confines of this place
and breathe
and laugh
and smile

maybe we were the monsters in the closet after all

I decided to write this poem since both my friend and I are struggling with our sexuality. The monster symbolizes the burden of keeping it a secret. And at the end, when the monster disappears, it's because the person had finally came out of the closet. :)
 45° 
Cindy

i live in delusion
or denial
i don't really know what's worse.
letting me go with invalid promises
promises
that would haunt
my lonely nights
and make me lose myself in the
thought of you.
the dates i met you
and felt your lips against me will
forever
be engraved in my mind.
the days i lost myself to you for the first time
unknowingly that
you
would be the person to wreck me
put me back together
and destroy me.

 43° 
Torin Galleshaw

Weight don't fall on me
I carry so much
A lost and lonesome pilgrim
My empty hands
This my blessing
This my curse
My loss of faith
My hopeful oath
I journey on
Intrepid
I do not know tomorrow
I only know the sky is looming
With promise and deception
Some days bring with them dawn
Some days become the night
Forgiven
Or forsaken
Heaven help me

 41° 
BJ Donovan

I'm 86 and just lost my 57 year old child
to breast cancer.  I'm mourning in black and white
as is proper respect to the dead.
A colorless wreath on my door
spoke of my grief to others.

It's December and the world is alive
with Christmas. Bright lights and colors
and children giddy with excitement.
I keep seeing my girl in her grave.

My other children insist I carry on.
Forget the dead until Halloween.
They invade my home and vomit
Xmas decorations upon me.

My end can't be far off and I swear
on my deathbed I'll get in a final
word! Your sister was the kindest
child I had. She was my favorite.

 36° 
Amar

Imagine,
You stand by the ocean,
Boulders spread, rollercoaster waves roll in,
Leaping flight, reckless, hurls itself upon stone;
You hear all sound -
The breeze, the gulls, the people,
But the loudest of all,
The crash of the mighty sea,
Is silent.
Can you project the landscape, and mute its heart?
Or is that strange act a demand too violent?

You plunge deep into tropical wilderness,
Lost like an ant in a green blanket;
A leafy breeze streams in through the bark of lofty guardians,
And the pure forest air - has no fragrance.
Can you imagine nature's heart, and steal its breath?

That time you trekked the stairway to heaven on a clear night,
And you look up for god's firecracker split into a million droplets of light,
Only to find a starless empty black.

There are limits to the senseless,
Why then do I know the feeling of building conversation,
With words we both picked from secret corners,
Feelings shared in measure to each other's freedom,
And then one day your voice falls dead.
No reasons given - not even for empathy's sake,
Just a photo frame's silence to a double blue tick.

One of the most hurtful things you can do is to abruptly fall silent while someone who loves you waits.. the double blue tick at the end is a reference to WhatsApp. :)
 36° 
She Writes

Something felt wrong
I told you no
But you were so strong
I had no choice

I was only five years old
When all this began
How could you be so cold
You were supposed to protect me

Let’s play a game, hide and seek
I was to hide
I wasn’t to speak
You always found me

Hunted me like prey
Ripped off my clothes
As I began to pray
Clenching my eyes

Singing songs in my brain
Keeping my mouth shut
Pretending not to feel any pain
To scared to do anything more

For years you abused me
Until one day you were caught
I was finally free
Or so I thought

The memories of what you’ve done
Haunt me every time darkness replaces the sun

 35° 
Hal

The problem isn’t that you aren’t good enough. No. It’s that you give your all to people that don’t give a shit about you.

- flowers can only blossom in nourishing soil, and you, my dear, have been planting them where there is none.
 33° 
Nat Lipstadt

perhaps if you are
one of the few
multiyear variates,  
still here, still seeking
solutions
to the
equations of
human formulation,
one of the veterans of the
early word wars,
when the line between fellow poet
and human being was full of
invitational openings,
tween those dots and dashes,
we all eagerly entered those places,
crossing over into
those human openings,
making poets into friends
^

yes,
we were social for the humanity
patented in the very word
social

we encouraged,
we critiqued wearing a flag
made from the fine fabric of fellowship,
crossing global borders and time zones,
even planets,
with only a hand-made
poetry passport
constructed from the
tissues of our hearts

each one of us,
A Little Prince,
lost
from other worlds,
but all
found
ourselves together in a
hospitable desert

so strange,
we found companionship,
genuine in ways that
make me weep when I recall it,
so many aviators,
flying low, neath the radar screen,
speaking one language of a thousand dialects

the networking was spontaneous,
friendships formulated,
real hugs exchanged,
no ulterior purpose, no quantity of glory sought,
no favors traded,
there were friends,
not followers,
just sharers

we valued the first amendment of our lives,
the right to speak freely in poetry

I wish you had been there,
here,
back then

^ an excerpt from "21 hours ago"
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1140915/21-hours-ago/

Typos? Text me and let me know
 31° 
She Writes

Is this a test
To see how much I’ll take?
Are you pushing me to see
What will finally make me break?

Seeing if you can pass
The point of no return.
Tear down my walls
Then let our bridges burn.

Are you scared
Because I got too close?
Worried that you would
Inspire more prose?

Or are you just a self-serving jerk
Who had you’re fill?
Now tossing me aside
At your will.

I’m over it, I’m done.
You broke me.
Is this what you wanted?
What you hoped to see?

..... obviously.

 27° 
dante

Three days ago, I was the accused.
A defendant in a court case,
I was forced to defend myself
against all those accusations.
I might as well deny my wrongdoings,
even though I was caught red-handed.

Two days ago, I was psychotic.
I was locked in an asylum,
forced to deal with the trauma
that I have faced not too long ago.
I shouted in the language of anger
for something that I never asked.

Yesterday, I broke up with my best friend.
All those years, our lives revolved about
a common coordinate shared by us.
How depressing would it be
to think about the future
when the past was all we had.

Today, I am a thrifty shopper
shopping in the dollar store.
I want to save as much as possible
and buy as many things I can
with the little money that I have
so I bargain for a lower price.

Tomorrow, I will be a student
sitting down within a classroom,
as I accept the facts and whatever
the teacher is discussing.

 27° 
She Writes

Just because you’ve undressed her
Does not mean you’ve seen her naked

Do you know her past?

Just because you’ve touched her skin
Does not mean you’ve touched her heart

Do you know her secrets?

Just because you’ve been inside her body
Does not mean you’ve been inside her soul

Do you know her dreams?

Christmas is  not  about What we can get
but rather what we  can give

 26° 
Mina

mother nature made men stronger
than women
it says
but who carries our children for nine months
body weakened to the edge
but who gives birth to our children
feeling pain a man can't resist
who

 25° 
Lexander J

Upon a yellowing canvas, a painting entitled Crimson Dawn,

leering faces peeping through the paint that it's been drawn 

It's red, it's dead, one cold frenzied mess
painted from the blood of the many that came to confess.

He's a priest and a disgusting liar 
worshipping not a god but the power he desires 
what's good is gone, buried in the catacombs of greed 
on grief and sins like a bloated mosquito he feeds 

give us temptation and our humanity instantly degrades 
memories, love, identity; all empty idols that fade -

shambling skeletons following us to our graves

manipulation is but a disease

unleashing the worst we strive to appease

leaving innocence a dry husk on the floor

lust draining our bodies like a leprositic whore

he's drawing pictures with stolen blood
not because he had to, but because he could
not insane, nor evil, but simply obsessed 
a Psychopath protected in the uniform that he's dressed - 

In a world that's pathetic and sin ridden

who is God, and can he ever be forgiven?

 24° 
Akash Mandal

One last lullaby
before nightingales migrate
forest sleeps till spring.

 24° 
madeline

why must you compare pain
someone can drown in an ocean
while someone can drown in a pond
the point is,
they both drowned

sick of people saying others have it worse than me and i need to stop complaining
 24° 
WordsOfWizDumb

P r e t t y   p e o p l e
W i t h   p r e t t y   w o r d s
B u t   t h e y   a r e   u g l y
T h e i r   s p e e c h   i s   s l u r r e d

They never show
Their real emotion
While people watch
Their every motion

Everything they have
Is fake
If they'd notice
They would break

They're living in
A fake reality
They need to wake up
To actuality

We always talk
Behind their backs
If they knew
They would crack

They think we love them
They think they're pretty
But they really don't
Deserve our pity

P r e t t y   p e o p l e
W i t h   p r e t t y   w o r d s
B u t   t h e y   a r e   u g l y
T h e i r   s p e e c h   i s   s l u r r e d

 23° 
Rory

And there is too little
Not enough softness

And the world may
One day do me in

And cause me to turn
To stone or nothing at all

And yet I am too strong to
Submit to these fears

And life may be hard but
So am I in my softness, my love

And my compassion that comes so
Easily to me that I may care for all

And while I may hurt and feel weak still
Now I know I may overcome all

it's been over a year figured i might as well come back lol, things have changed and i am doing better in my life, and i'm not so depressed anymore and i hope that changes will happen with everyone else for the better, and this isn't the best i've ever written but it certainly does sound pretty right? yeah i think so ^^ so hellopoetry i've missed you
 23° 
IamVianca
One

“One”

There’s no two...
Three...
Four...
And a million numbers more.

It’s just me
In a blank story.

I’m the protagonist,
Antagonist,
and the supporting characters.

I’m the hater,
The lover,
And the troubled.

I’m just another figure,
In another chapter,
Of the same story.

Thank you for supporting my first poem! Here’s one that I wrote while I was alone...like always...
 23° 
Jay

Damaged people love you like a crime scene
Before any crime had been committed
They kept their running shoes right next to their souls every night
One eye opened in case something changed whilst they were asleep

Damaged people love in the most broken way
Damaged people love in the most gentle way
Damaged people do not love
Damaged people love too much

Their backs are always too tense, too tight
Made this way from carrying too many broken things
Because we all know broken things are the heaviest
Just look the weight of a broken heart

Damaged people will love that too
Damaged people love broken things
Because they remind them of themselves

Damaged people take broken things
And love them to the end
Trying to find that one broken thing
That will fit their cracks.

Damaged people love so well

They love like this because they have already seen Hell
And they know that every evil demon
Was once an angel before they fell.

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