I'm done pretending like I'm alright
That I have a story to tell.
I'm still searching
in the fog of my soul
save me+**
Feb 1, 2020
Feb 1, 2020 at 1:02 PM UTC
This is not a poem
I wanna learn how to be good at poetry.
Anyone got any tips?
How does your creative process work?
Everyone on hellopoetry is amazingly creative. I really love yall stuff yes you reading this :)
Jan 25, 2020
Jan 25, 2020 at 8:21 PM UTC
Do you still think of me?
Why do I still love you?
Why should I care?
You didn't.
Jan 24, 2020
Jan 24, 2020 at 10:08 PM UTC
And then the tears come.
The endless waterfall,
streaming from a broken heart.
That stinging sensation
within my heart,
throbbing and spreading
through my body.
Jan 24, 2020
Jan 24, 2020 at 9:57 PM UTC
Your passion,
burning past the surface,
submerges my heart into a pit of lava;
Drowning my sense of self control.
My body,
often anxious and impatient,
releases into the waves
of the night.
Nov 18, 2018
Nov 18, 2018 at 1:36 AM UTC
The caterpillar is a prisoner to the streets that conceived it.
Its only job is to eat
or consume everything around it,
in order to protect itself from this mad city.
While consuming its environment,
the caterpillar begins to notice ways to survive.
One thing it noticed
is how much the world shuns him,
but praises the butterfly.
The butterfly represents the talent,
the thoughtfulness,
and the beauty within the caterpillar.
But having a harsh outlook on life
the caterpillar sees the butterfly as weak
And figures out a way to **** it to his own benefits.
Already surrounded by this mad city,
The caterpillar goes to work on the cocoon
which institutionalizes him.
He can no longer see past his own thoughts.
He’s trapped.
When trapped inside these walls
certain ideas start to take roots;
Such as going home, and bringing back new concepts
to this mad city
The result?
Wings begin to emerge,
breaking the cycle
of feeling stagnant
Finally free,
the butterfly sheds light on situations
that the caterpillar never considered,
ending the eternal struggle.
Although the butterfly,
and caterpillar are completely different,
they are one and the same.
Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 6:11 PM UTC
Her eyes bounce off the indigo sky
As she fumbles her words.
I can tell that you don't speak English.
I can tell that you want to be yourself;
but you secretly
hold it back.
I guess that's what me and you have in common;
This fear
of being hurt again
by the world you loved so much.
You tell me all of your secrets without parting your lips.
You can tell that I'm in love with you.
You can tell that I want to say it to you.
Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 6:01 PM UTC