Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Kiohtel
Time Time Time It chips away At my mind Heart runs astray Rewind I'm not insane Just pine I am prepared It lies After All These Experiences I never Learn To Not Hope
0
Sep 11, 2020
Sep 11, 2020 at 10:30 AM UTC
I never learn
It's the days when you don’t cry, But you don’t smile either. It’s the days when you’re quieter than usual, And people notice. It’s the days when you aren’t quite thinking about anything. But if someone asked you what was wrong, You wouldn’t know where to start.
0
Jan 30, 2020
Jan 30, 2020 at 6:21 PM UTC
The Fog
The day I was born to you I was held with such care You loved your dear daughter Her perfect visage Your expectations Your future Your fulfillment I wanted to show you the world I never asked for your vision You loved your daughter Her perfect visage And rejected me My expectations My future My fulfillment
0
Jan 16, 2019
Jan 16, 2019 at 6:46 AM UTC
Daughter
Hi, Ma'am? I am new here. Do you know what happened? Hello? Sir? I don't have a phone Can you please give me directions? Hey, kid! Can you hear me? How do I go back? Somebody, anybody? I don't want this Please help me out You, there? I think I messed up I'm scared Oh, God! Think I left my wallet and ID In my coffin
0
Dec 9, 2018
Dec 9, 2018 at 5:33 AM UTC
ID
of one thing i am sure and that is that i am unsure of myself and it’s funny how i can’t sleep but my chest closes its eyes and hums with a heartbeat that is unsure of itself, too. i try to morph into a body i don’t feel belongs to me just so i can fit somewhere fit in somewhere and i tell so many stories about the universe, it forever feels like i am trying to remain lost. i am unsure of myself; connecting the moles on my skin as if they will spell out something bigger so i can feel like i matter, at least for a little while. i sleep beside myself, stare at a reflection so unfamiliar i couldn’t even identify it in a crowd of strangers, but i am trying. and one day i’m sure i’ll be sure of myself but until then, i’ll morph into someone i can be proud of and hope that the universe sends me back to myself.
0
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 7:56 AM UTC
i am finding my way back
i’d rather write about the freckles on your back than think about all of the ways in which you quite possibly don’t love me. i feel sick at the very thought of you picking me apart the way you did; fingers grabbing and stroking in a catastrophic symphony of skin and vulnerability. let’s read between each other’s lines; share my sentences and punctuate my paragraphs with your mouth; because i can breathe easier on the mornings where i wake up wrapped around you. because my moods change like the ******* seasons and the spinning in my head doesn’t want to stop.                                          you tell me that i should probably get a therapist because no one that thinks about all the ways in which they could **** themselves has an ounce of mental stability.                                           i tell you that i have been to four.                                           names faded into a blur with hazy snippets of conversation remaining. 20mg.                     30mg. you tell me that trust issues and scars aren’t endearing and i tell you that neither is counting up the potential number of pills needed to dissolve your body into the living room carpet. let me sink inside your skin and make a home in your flesh; i tell you about the nights where i lay awake in the bath turning the water red.                        tragic, isn’t it. you tell me that this isn’t how my head should work and i tell you that i already know. everything you could possibly tell me i already know. i know that 400 calories a day isn’t normal, and my hands shouldn’t shake all the time.                                              i know. please let me stitch myself into you, even just for a while; until i no longer feel dizzy and my world stops spinning. i don’t need you to tell me that it will be okay, because honestly i don’t think it will be and, that in itself, is okay.                                                                                  let me stitch myself into you, because my own skin can’t take it anymore. let me call you back when my voice stops wobbling and my vision straightens out, but honestly, i’m terrified that it never will. what if this is it. headaches and tears and shaking and blood.                                              and the debilitating, gut-wrenching feeling of pure and euphoric emptiness.                                               tragic, isn’t it.
0
May 25, 2018
May 25, 2018 at 6:35 AM UTC
stitches.
i’d rather write about the freckles on your back than think about all of the ways in which you quite possibly don’t love me. i feel sick at the very thought of you picking me apart the way you did; fingers grabbing and stroking in a catastrophic symphony of skin and vulnerability. let’s read between each other’s lines; share my sentences and punctuate my paragraphs with your mouth; because i can breathe easier on the mornings where i wake up wrapped around you. because my moods change like the ******* seasons and the spinning in my head doesn’t want to stop.                                          you tell me that i should probably get a therapist because no one that thinks about all the ways in which they could **** themselves has an ounce of mental stability.                                           i tell you that i have been to four.                                           names faded into a blur with hazy snippets of conversation remaining. 20mg.                     30mg. you tell me that trust issues and scars aren’t endearing and i tell you that neither is counting up the potential number of pills needed to dissolve your body into the living room carpet. let me sink inside your skin and make a home in your flesh; i tell you about the nights where i lay awake in the bath turning the water red.                        tragic, isn’t it. you tell me that this isn’t how my head should work and i tell you that i already know. everything you could possibly tell me i already know. i know that 400 calories a day isn’t normal, and my hands shouldn’t shake all the time.                                              i know. please let me stitch myself into you, even just for a while; until i no longer feel dizzy and my world stops spinning. i don’t need you to tell me that it will be okay, because honestly i don’t think it will be and, that in itself, is okay.                                                                                  let me stitch myself into you, because my own skin can’t take it anymore. let me call you back when my voice stops wobbling and my vision straightens out, but honestly, i’m terrified that it never will. what if this is it. headaches and tears and shaking and blood.                                              and the debilitating, gut-wrenching feeling of pure and euphoric emptiness.                                               tragic, isn’t it.
Continue reading...
22
No one can know your pain Not nearly as well as yourself But the rope won't take it away It just gives it to someone else
0
Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 5:58 AM UTC
Noose
People walking ..in and out I bite my tongue ..so not to shout I did not ask ..for them to come I didn't ask them ..to be done Took me longer ..than it should have I yearned harder ..than I could have They're gone before ..I find the bleed I would take the pain ..but it's not to be I know I'm glad ..that I met you But I'm so sad ..that I met you I cannot find ..the words to say While I do this to ..myself again You're alone in crowds ..just like I am I find myself ..lost in your mind You make me laugh, you make me smile For a change, I hope you ..stay a while
0
Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 2:50 AM UTC
Stay a while
..do you ever feel? Like you ended up.. ..In the wrong Universe wrong Galaxy.. ..wrong Planet wrong City.. ..wrong Home wrong Work.. ..wrong Family wrong Life.. ..wrong Body wrong shoes.. ..wrong thoughts wrong Soul.. ..Like you Are so Wrong.. ..so lost If only.. ..you could imagine What it would be like.. ..to feel Right?
0
Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 12:11 AM UTC
Wrong
My home is like a fragile dream A map scattered in my mind How could it be a part of me When there, I can find no sign? I know there exists the beauty I seek For it teases and leaves me yearning For it, my heart has learned to speak The tongues I would be let down in I watch my days and years pass Waiting for better ones to come Now I'm looking back at the grass And the sand and the shining sun Am I not strong or am I too worn Who is around to tell..? God is a question I'm counting on To send me answers at hell Dare I wish for love to feel? It comes and goes like waves And leaves behind some parts to heal Not quite the things I craved Chemicals flowing in my body Menace my emotional raft Create memories with nobody And overwhelm me till I laugh However the truth I accept it now I was born deviant and wrong You can't combine the sky and ground With things that don't belong I don't mind the lies I'm told You'll find my inner face alit From the heat I take when truth unfolds As long as I have someone to play with
0
Jan 17, 2018
Jan 17, 2018 at 7:41 AM UTC
Company