HopefullyRin - Hello Poetry

I don't think it is what you think it is. You can sketch out emptiness and still love the sunlight. I'm tired of sitting on roofs and hearing you wonder what it feels like to fall as you tumble down you've just got so lost in it you acclimated to the feel I hate to break it to you but you can't fall again if you've already jumped Hello down there The entire ocean's disappearing it's rising up in droplets that crowd together like a flock of shaking birds, feathers everywhere the rain falls too, you're right, and yes, its collision with the ground can sound like a symphony, but you never paid attention in science class. What I'm trying to say is it's a cycle and maybe I'm wrong and you can fall twice, but you have to rise first What does the rain feel when it hits the ground? We were lying on the bed staring at the ceiling white bed, white sheets, empty ceiling you turned to me and said you wanted to live on the beach All the pieces you think you've shattered into, they're running to the ocean.

0

Apr 26, 2020

Apr 26, 2020 at 1:50 PM UTC

The Water Cycle

I don't think it is what you think it is. You can sketch out emptiness and still love the sunlight. I'm tired of sitting on roofs and hearing you wonder what it feels like to fall as you tumble down you've just got so lost in it you acclimated to the feel I hate to break it to you but you can't fall again if you've already jumped Hello down there The entire ocean's disappearing it's rising up in droplets that crowd together like a flock of shaking birds, feathers everywhere the rain falls too, you're right, and yes, its collision with the ground can sound like a symphony, but you never paid attention in science class. What I'm trying to say is it's a cycle and maybe I'm wrong and you can fall twice, but you have to rise first What does the rain feel when it hits the ground? We were lying on the bed staring at the ceiling white bed, white sheets, empty ceiling you turned to me and said you wanted to live on the beach All the pieces you think you've shattered into, they're running to the ocean.

22

It's been a long day. Not as a day that's been filled with worries, but as a day filled with fake smiles plastered together in shallow swathes. It's been a long, long day Even if I feel like this, at least I'm fine If I take a sip of coffee, the coffee's cold If I reach out, will you embrace me? To be honest, I'm not sure what I'm reaching for. The day's cold and the coffee's gone, so I'll leave you with this The shadow of a tree's leaves in the sunlight is warm and gold full where it should be empty and open as a healing wound

0

Apr 24, 2020

Apr 24, 2020 at 5:40 PM UTC

It's been a long day

It's been a long day. Not as a day that's been filled with worries, but as a day filled with fake smiles plastered together in shallow swathes. It's been a long, long day Even if I feel like this, at least I'm fine If I take a sip of coffee, the coffee's cold If I reach out, will you embrace me? To be honest, I'm not sure what I'm reaching for. The day's cold and the coffee's gone, so I'll leave you with this The shadow of a tree's leaves in the sunlight is warm and gold full where it should be empty and open as a healing wound

12

She sits in front of the dishwasher; The face inside stares back at her, Eyes so deep and wasted. Near the cabinet another face reaches eternally to the cabinet, Eyes with misery and so bitter The face behind her leans against the counter, Eyes tense with barely concealed fear Count to five The face in the doorway stares at the kitchen, grayed in and gray, with eyes frozen in shock, pulled back into a flinch, A soccer player sees the ball heading for his face. The face behind them all is faceless; She kneels on hands and feet, picks up spilled glass, shattered milk. and blood. She never looks at her, but They all stare at her.

0

May 25, 2018

May 25, 2018 at 9:16 AM UTC

Plastic

She sits in front of the dishwasher; The face inside stares back at her, Eyes so deep and wasted. Near the cabinet another face reaches eternally to the cabinet, Eyes with misery and so bitter The face behind her leans against the counter, Eyes tense with barely concealed fear Count to five The face in the doorway stares at the kitchen, grayed in and gray, with eyes frozen in shock, pulled back into a flinch, A soccer player sees the ball heading for his face. The face behind them all is faceless; She kneels on hands and feet, picks up spilled glass, shattered milk. and blood. She never looks at her, but They all stare at her.

17

Tell me Why do you always act so (kindnervousnewangryoldoveragain) You know; you know; you know; I was here first, before the hills, before the house With the tree (You know, you know, you know) Or not? Tell me; (Againagainoveragain) I'll understand if you show me how Show me the tree Show me the house Show me the hills You know. (And do it now, before we turn to Him)

0

Apr 9, 2018

Apr 9, 2018 at 11:34 AM UTC

Death is no parenthesis

Tell me Why do you always act so (kindnervousnewangryoldoveragain) You know; you know; you know; I was here first, before the hills, before the house With the tree (You know, you know, you know) Or not? Tell me; (Againagainoveragain) I'll understand if you show me how Show me the tree Show me the house Show me the hills You know. (And do it now, before we turn to Him)

15