Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
IllWriteAboutUs
Searching for Consistency. Constantly Changing.
The mind forgets the blueprint pain of the drug and will only remember the difference and distortion it enables. A new pattern of reality that leaves behind the mundane and prosaic of chatter and routine that we die to escape. And when awoken the next day it craves the difference and excitement that only comes in stride with chemical pain. "The question is frequently asked: Why does a man become a drug addict? The answer is that he usually does not intend to become one. One morning you wake up sick and you're an addict." I understand. I do. I woke up our first morning in love with you and spent the next 86,400 minutes of my life trying to find a way to tell you. Now, I soak my roses in Gin and Jack Daniels and that is the only way they'll live. I watched the entire world fall to rubble in front of me one night, and I saw you rebuild it from the ash the next day. The last four moments of my dreams this morning before waking, I spent lying next to you. You told me I had a massive nose and you smiled because you laugh at your own jokes, and you play card games that you don't know how to play so you slam your cards down when ever you feel like it with the confidence of someone who had just won the entire universe even when you had nothing. You are the girl that someone will write about for the rest of their lives, because you looked perfect in a sweater, and the color red was made just for you, and you looked lovely while you were looking, and maybe you didn't win the world, but you did become mine. I know I created the glass case housing the hardships keeping you from me, but you kept your gentle eyes on my shattering soul. You watched me as my breath started to catch. And I need you to know that there is fear that my heart may stop in my sleep, and the bottle that my life pours from may cap. But until then and after, I will keep gentle eyes on your silver bathed soul. I will watch you as your breaths deepen each time. I will use my love to keep you here and alive. Even after all of the mess, you still looked beautiful. Always better than had been, never less. The moment before I woke you kissed me and it played over.. "She imagines him imagining her. This is her salvation." -This is my salvation. -To wake to you and watch the sun burn the night alive. My dreams this morning were... something. And I thought of this piece. Out of everything I've done, this portrays my soul most. -And at the end of everyday, I leave the world behind on my way home to you.
0
Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 3:35 PM UTC
Addictions and Dreaming
The mind forgets the blueprint pain of the drug and will only remember the difference and distortion it enables. A new pattern of reality that leaves behind the mundane and prosaic of chatter and routine that we die to escape. And when awoken the next day it craves the difference and excitement that only comes in stride with chemical pain. "The question is frequently asked: Why does a man become a drug addict? The answer is that he usually does not intend to become one. One morning you wake up sick and you're an addict." I understand. I do. I woke up our first morning in love with you and spent the next 86,400 minutes of my life trying to find a way to tell you. Now, I soak my roses in Gin and Jack Daniels and that is the only way they'll live. I watched the entire world fall to rubble in front of me one night, and I saw you rebuild it from the ash the next day. The last four moments of my dreams this morning before waking, I spent lying next to you. You told me I had a massive nose and you smiled because you laugh at your own jokes, and you play card games that you don't know how to play so you slam your cards down when ever you feel like it with the confidence of someone who had just won the entire universe even when you had nothing. You are the girl that someone will write about for the rest of their lives, because you looked perfect in a sweater, and the color red was made just for you, and you looked lovely while you were looking, and maybe you didn't win the world, but you did become mine. I know I created the glass case housing the hardships keeping you from me, but you kept your gentle eyes on my shattering soul. You watched me as my breath started to catch. And I need you to know that there is fear that my heart may stop in my sleep, and the bottle that my life pours from may cap. But until then and after, I will keep gentle eyes on your silver bathed soul. I will watch you as your breaths deepen each time. I will use my love to keep you here and alive. Even after all of the mess, you still looked beautiful. Always better than had been, never less. The moment before I woke you kissed me and it played over.. "She imagines him imagining her. This is her salvation." -This is my salvation. -To wake to you and watch the sun burn the night alive. My dreams this morning were... something. And I thought of this piece. Out of everything I've done, this portrays my soul most. -And at the end of everyday, I leave the world behind on my way home to you.
Continue reading...
6
There were 100 people Complete strangers And they might as well have been shadows The room might as well have been void of light Because I close my eyes and there is only you Burned to the back of my lids I tell this story about the way you never leave my mind And the way I couldn't hide it if I tried My fingers bleed My heart has found a new home in my stomach And you're still the only thought That my mind can find peace next to Here is where suffering smiles And the grass is green under all of our foot steps And war doesn't stand a chance Not even if it is all we have left
0
Sep 9, 2016
Sep 9, 2016 at 10:04 AM UTC
The Cafe
These exits no longer lead to anywhere 7a is a foreign language. Now, like the collection of ultra violet That belonged to our masks every morning, There is nothing more beautiful Than the way the sun sets on your shoulder blades I chase these seas while the universe chases you To my inspiration Whether that would be through my never ceasing heartache Or the simple and inescapable love The moment you fall for her soul, you are ****** You will be stuck in fifteen minute increments Of convincing yourself that the world is a big place With even bigger people You'll take a left instead of a right Get off the bus a stop too early Do whatever the hell you please Like I said, once you fall for her soul You are ******* doomed You will wake every day damning whatever gods you believe in You will love her until the seas swallow the earth And you will keep loving her into your own oblivion At the end of days Bottle up the entirety of whatever you are, and I will drown myself in you.
0
Sep 8, 2016
Sep 8, 2016 at 9:18 AM UTC
Millvale, Take Me Home Again
Faucets for tear ducts. There is no hot and there is no cold. Just somewhere that all of the time away from you goes and eventually there's just too much and it spills over. Every window is fogged and it's only been raining inside for weeks. I ruined my own roses. That's all I've ever really known how to do. I swerved my car right through the yard and turned the garden to a grave. Something I am sure of is that we will always be the ones to spend most nights getting drunk with our bathroom floors. And that is why I sit hollow eyed and high every night. Waiting for a moment to transcend. Tiredness brought the beginning of understanding. Understanding brought the beginning of the end. I hope to find an answer. It's haunting never knowing why my heart wants something that doesn't make sense. I hope today is the last day I have to wake up loving someone who does not love me back. I held onto the static before the sounds of the line being severed. And then you were yesterday, like any piece of you that was ever me.
0
Sep 2, 2016
Sep 2, 2016 at 10:43 AM UTC
Passage from a book that'll never be written.
My sleepy sweet; the way you would wake in the middle of the night I loved you most then. I wish I would've told you that it was only because you were stationary and there with me.. and I think I have grown accustom to telling you that you're beautiful in the times you'll least remember. My Midnight snack; and without a break in pace you'd fall back into the deepest sleep from the mountain top to the fields below as if you were simply stepping off the curbs back into your busy streets. My passerby; I couldn't tell you how long I have spent admiring you in the moments right after you'd disappear into your fantasies. I don't know whether time flew by, or slowed down, or stopped all together. Honestly, I didn't care. It didn't matter if time was precious, or if time was money, or if time was priceless. It was mine and you were mine, and I will spend every single fraction of every single dollar on every single second in between seconds, on you. All of the seconds that take too long and those that leave too soon. I am going to sit with the sun and we'll talk about our moons until they break the horizon of the places the sun and I will never know. Everyday and every night we will sit at the center of the universe and love our moons with sound waves or in silence. And in sound waves he will know how I'll love you into the end of days and in my silence he will know where I am in my day dream states. My Day Dreamer; waking up from your anytime slumbers, unaware that the entire universe and I had been with you all along. My sleepy sweet in our sleepy sheets, ever since you had first woken from your dreams beside me, my dreams have been waking up to me. Fill the places wearing thin inside of my shell. All of my doors have lost their ways. All of my windows are broken, because I am broken, and they know my pains like I know their panes. I want to keep your heart safe behind my bones right next to mine. I want to look at you without knowing, completely lost in all that is you, and I want you to catch me in that place I go. More than anywhere I have ever been, that place is my home. It Always Will Be.
0
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 3:05 PM UTC
Lighter notes on a Lighter Year.
My sleepy sweet; the way you would wake in the middle of the night I loved you most then. I wish I would've told you that it was only because you were stationary and there with me.. and I think I have grown accustom to telling you that you're beautiful in the times you'll least remember. My Midnight snack; and without a break in pace you'd fall back into the deepest sleep from the mountain top to the fields below as if you were simply stepping off the curbs back into your busy streets. My passerby; I couldn't tell you how long I have spent admiring you in the moments right after you'd disappear into your fantasies. I don't know whether time flew by, or slowed down, or stopped all together. Honestly, I didn't care. It didn't matter if time was precious, or if time was money, or if time was priceless. It was mine and you were mine, and I will spend every single fraction of every single dollar on every single second in between seconds, on you. All of the seconds that take too long and those that leave too soon. I am going to sit with the sun and we'll talk about our moons until they break the horizon of the places the sun and I will never know. Everyday and every night we will sit at the center of the universe and love our moons with sound waves or in silence. And in sound waves he will know how I'll love you into the end of days and in my silence he will know where I am in my day dream states. My Day Dreamer; waking up from your anytime slumbers, unaware that the entire universe and I had been with you all along. My sleepy sweet in our sleepy sheets, ever since you had first woken from your dreams beside me, my dreams have been waking up to me. Fill the places wearing thin inside of my shell. All of my doors have lost their ways. All of my windows are broken, because I am broken, and they know my pains like I know their panes. I want to keep your heart safe behind my bones right next to mine. I want to look at you without knowing, completely lost in all that is you, and I want you to catch me in that place I go. More than anywhere I have ever been, that place is my home. It Always Will Be.
Continue reading...
44
The thing is the love    of your life can make mistakes and break your       heart and you lose them      because they lose you and your heart breaks all over again I am deep inside a collection of streets                   and blank signs somewhere I've never been before.               In different times I just want to      do different things and right here                                                 holding hands with the clocks,             I just want to find my way home.
0
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 1:31 PM UTC
Paper place
Maybe I'll become a poet or a famous writer someday And I'll travel the world and give people my name in sloppy fonts They'll tell me how they loved my book or ask me questions of new work but the truth is that there is only one book There is only one giant hole and even if I wanted another for the sake of new work there just is no room for that inside of me Hope laced with the thought that maybe someday you'll want to roll over to see the sun on my face again Seeing your name among billions at a hundred miles an hour I sit here now and I know that while I am away, my best work will always be my letters home to you
0
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 12:03 PM UTC
Void of Vacancy
I guess it's safe for me to say that I'm just taking chances these days. Spending time chasing lines of lies across my floor because promises dont hold comfort like before. I'd probably walk the sky if I could because these sidewalks never lead anywhere good. I think when I said I'd take on the world, the world misunderstood. The ones left in the dark are the easiest to see. Everyone in lights just look the same to me. Let them gather like sheep in their big city suites. That leaves more space for us to be free. I'm wrapping words around the ears of the smaller people with bigger dreams, I just hope that you can hear me and you know how much it will always mean. I live in the shadows of paper shears cutting from my heart to my finger tips. We work for bills to pay our bills, we can't breathe because we can't afford it. I think I would fly if I could because walking never leads where it should. The crooked streets signs in my home town and the broken streets that brought me down. Today I take my time I waste and name it "here and now" my strength is in my soul and will last as long as time allows. I want you all to listen close so that you'll always know that we'll always have our flaws and they're always gonna show. I guess I'll never be perfect but I'll surely get close and close is close enough. What good would a world of perfect people be anyway? There would be nothing and no one left to appreciate. And all of my life I've been making mistakes but I promise that I'll find myself and I'm sorry for the time it takes.
0
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 6:06 AM UTC
A Bed made of car hoods
I guess it's safe for me to say that I'm just taking chances these days. Spending time chasing lines of lies across my floor because promises dont hold comfort like before. I'd probably walk the sky if I could because these sidewalks never lead anywhere good. I think when I said I'd take on the world, the world misunderstood. The ones left in the dark are the easiest to see. Everyone in lights just look the same to me. Let them gather like sheep in their big city suites. That leaves more space for us to be free. I'm wrapping words around the ears of the smaller people with bigger dreams, I just hope that you can hear me and you know how much it will always mean. I live in the shadows of paper shears cutting from my heart to my finger tips. We work for bills to pay our bills, we can't breathe because we can't afford it. I think I would fly if I could because walking never leads where it should. The crooked streets signs in my home town and the broken streets that brought me down. Today I take my time I waste and name it "here and now" my strength is in my soul and will last as long as time allows. I want you all to listen close so that you'll always know that we'll always have our flaws and they're always gonna show. I guess I'll never be perfect but I'll surely get close and close is close enough. What good would a world of perfect people be anyway? There would be nothing and no one left to appreciate. And all of my life I've been making mistakes but I promise that I'll find myself and I'm sorry for the time it takes.
Continue reading...
2
Of staring at a blank page that usually floods itself with ink without thought, and all I've got is "I just want to have a normal life again."  For the first time in months I woke up only to go back to sleep. With you, reality will be fractions of the tiniest bit of time that you use me to make yourself feel a little less lonely while reassuring me that I'm something more to you, and the overwhelming amount of time that you leave me wondering why I didn't trust myself when I said I knew you better than that. I've never had a problem admitting that I am a ****** person. The only difference now is that I'm not. Now, I am a mixture of ****** up so bad that I'm good and a constant struggle to find humanity in the people I walk past each day. I am kind and soft. I have a hunger to heal suffering and I suffer in cases I fail to do so. Compassion driven in such a way that beautiful days are all it'll ever take to keep my heart beating. But not today. Today is a dark crater I'm naming after you. You're not exactly the root of all evil, but you're surely one of its branches. You'd have to be to dish out tickets to these doldrum's you never fail to put me in. This is where the dark person I was had manifested. This exact feeling. I have no blame to place on you. You either wouldn't care or would be hurt by the fact, and I am no longer the same person I was. I'll sooner hurt every day of my life before I'd assign pain to another ever again. The thing is that if I don't have to hurt then I would like not to. Do me a favor.. The next time you see me in your less important thoughts, as an irrelevant extra in your least exciting dreams, or walking down the street as a face you just so happened to see, just put your head down and keep walking by. I don't have the strength to keep digging my self from beneath your feet where you leave me. ...It has been a few hours now and I can finally finish this. I spent this time trying to find my way out of this maze that is made of yesterday and I've landed on her. A tiny body dressed in blonde hair and blue eyes. I could hear her voice echo throughout this trap I've been stuck inside of. Our conversations of favorite colors and people and places we want to go. The way our shades changed the way we saw the sun, how we love butterflies, and how we will fly just like them someday. How could I forget that you were my lantern. A piece of my true North I follow to find my way home. How could I forget, Brook, that you were the other half of my soul. Its taken me almost thirty years to do for others what she's done for me in just four. She may be so much smaller than I, but her dreams and aspirations are so much bigger than mine will ever be. Today is beautiful and it's because of you that I can walk through this door and breathe with these things that keep me breathing.
0
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 12:23 PM UTC
Hours..
Of staring at a blank page that usually floods itself with ink without thought, and all I've got is "I just want to have a normal life again."  For the first time in months I woke up only to go back to sleep. With you, reality will be fractions of the tiniest bit of time that you use me to make yourself feel a little less lonely while reassuring me that I'm something more to you, and the overwhelming amount of time that you leave me wondering why I didn't trust myself when I said I knew you better than that. I've never had a problem admitting that I am a ****** person. The only difference now is that I'm not. Now, I am a mixture of ****** up so bad that I'm good and a constant struggle to find humanity in the people I walk past each day. I am kind and soft. I have a hunger to heal suffering and I suffer in cases I fail to do so. Compassion driven in such a way that beautiful days are all it'll ever take to keep my heart beating. But not today. Today is a dark crater I'm naming after you. You're not exactly the root of all evil, but you're surely one of its branches. You'd have to be to dish out tickets to these doldrum's you never fail to put me in. This is where the dark person I was had manifested. This exact feeling. I have no blame to place on you. You either wouldn't care or would be hurt by the fact, and I am no longer the same person I was. I'll sooner hurt every day of my life before I'd assign pain to another ever again. The thing is that if I don't have to hurt then I would like not to. Do me a favor.. The next time you see me in your less important thoughts, as an irrelevant extra in your least exciting dreams, or walking down the street as a face you just so happened to see, just put your head down and keep walking by. I don't have the strength to keep digging my self from beneath your feet where you leave me. ...It has been a few hours now and I can finally finish this. I spent this time trying to find my way out of this maze that is made of yesterday and I've landed on her. A tiny body dressed in blonde hair and blue eyes. I could hear her voice echo throughout this trap I've been stuck inside of. Our conversations of favorite colors and people and places we want to go. The way our shades changed the way we saw the sun, how we love butterflies, and how we will fly just like them someday. How could I forget that you were my lantern. A piece of my true North I follow to find my way home. How could I forget, Brook, that you were the other half of my soul. Its taken me almost thirty years to do for others what she's done for me in just four. She may be so much smaller than I, but her dreams and aspirations are so much bigger than mine will ever be. Today is beautiful and it's because of you that I can walk through this door and breathe with these things that keep me breathing.
Continue reading...
3
Job. New apartment. An extra room for me to paint and write by my window with a view of the various flower budding trees. For now I'm going to use my light table for eating my home made Caesar salad instead of sketching, and I'm going to use my canvas stand for this bag of Swedish fish that I'm gonna eat after this salad is gone. This isn't beautiful to you, but if you understood my life for the past year, you'd understand why my own place, a job, and a room where I can paint is the most beautiful thing I've seen in a long while.
0
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 6:17 PM UTC
New.