N_1-r - Hello Poetry

I don’t really want to get up And hug everyone And do my rounds Open the door And leave the party But I’m sitting in the corner Watching people smile And dance And love And live Praying to someone I don’t truly believe in To turn off the lights And stop the music Break up the crowd And take me home

0

6d ago

May 28, 2026 at 5:31 PM UTC

Party

I don’t really want to get up And hug everyone And do my rounds Open the door And leave the party But I’m sitting in the corner Watching people smile And dance And love And live Praying to someone I don’t truly believe in To turn off the lights And stop the music Break up the crowd And take me home

15

Morphed by love And held by hope My body has unlearned The hardships it has crossed Good for now The rest is welcome But pray for me If once more I must live Through them again.

0

Mar 28, 2024

Mar 28, 2024 at 10:49 PM UTC

Love

Morphed by love And held by hope My body has unlearned The hardships it has crossed Good for now The rest is welcome But pray for me If once more I must live Through them again.

9

I gave you little pieces of me Prettily packaged In little red ribbons. They weren’t mine to give, Not really anyway. But still I presented them to you On a polished platter. You took them, Discarding of the ribbons Without even acknowledging The time I put into Shaping the perfect bows. You ripped the paper, Shredded and discarded On the floor of your room. You locked up the contents, I couldn’t get them back. So I returned to you With more parcels Of me. Hoping you’d give back The pieces you’d taken, If I trusted you with the rest. You never did. And here I stand Broken and missing. You’re taking someone else’s Pretty presents now. But I have nothing left To give. Maybe they weren’t mine to gift to you, But they sure as hell weren’t yours to take.

0

Mar 14, 2023

Mar 14, 2023 at 7:19 PM UTC

Ribbons

I gave you little pieces of me Prettily packaged In little red ribbons. They weren’t mine to give, Not really anyway. But still I presented them to you On a polished platter. You took them, Discarding of the ribbons Without even acknowledging The time I put into Shaping the perfect bows. You ripped the paper, Shredded and discarded On the floor of your room. You locked up the contents, I couldn’t get them back. So I returned to you With more parcels Of me. Hoping you’d give back The pieces you’d taken, If I trusted you with the rest. You never did. And here I stand Broken and missing. You’re taking someone else’s Pretty presents now. But I have nothing left To give. Maybe they weren’t mine to gift to you, But they sure as hell weren’t yours to take.

33

Grief is my substance of choice. The pain And hurting And longing of loss Is the most bitter sweet pill, And I swallow it with pride. I might not have felt the deep suffering That sets my bones alight For a while, And instead of enjoying The pleasure of peace I inflict it instead on myself. Little taunts that run through me Are set as reminders. A humbling form of dissonance To ensure my self loathing And agony Remain. I’m not quite sure why, It doesn’t make me feel any better. It doesn’t make me love Or cherish Or hope But still, I anoint myself The dealer Of those little bitter sweet pills, That put the grief in my bones.

0

Mar 9, 2023

Mar 9, 2023 at 5:07 PM UTC

Grief

Grief is my substance of choice. The pain And hurting And longing of loss Is the most bitter sweet pill, And I swallow it with pride. I might not have felt the deep suffering That sets my bones alight For a while, And instead of enjoying The pleasure of peace I inflict it instead on myself. Little taunts that run through me Are set as reminders. A humbling form of dissonance To ensure my self loathing And agony Remain. I’m not quite sure why, It doesn’t make me feel any better. It doesn’t make me love Or cherish Or hope But still, I anoint myself The dealer Of those little bitter sweet pills, That put the grief in my bones.

27

If jealousy is a disease Then I am sick. My lips, chapped and bloodied, My brain heavy and hardened, Constantly filled with the worries Of someone else’s wants. The need to progressively feel Like my doings Are somehow Better than yours, Has shallowed my cheeks And paled my skin. My bones are brittled With the comparison Of somebody else’s capacity for excellence.

0

Feb 12, 2023

Feb 12, 2023 at 9:06 PM UTC

Jealousy

If jealousy is a disease Then I am sick. My lips, chapped and bloodied, My brain heavy and hardened, Constantly filled with the worries Of someone else’s wants. The need to progressively feel Like my doings Are somehow Better than yours, Has shallowed my cheeks And paled my skin. My bones are brittled With the comparison Of somebody else’s capacity for excellence.

15

When I lay in bed Body tired, lights off But mind on I write words in my head. They rarely rhyme Or have any real basis, Ragged lines Slipping in time. Emotions and feelings Jumbled and digressed Blurred memories Torn into segments Of little, poorly formed Ellipses. And I have the nerve To call myself a poet. Because when the words form They resonate Within me. They make me feel everything And nothing. And sometimes, When you read the scattered formation Of my Deepest Darkest Brightest Most hurtful thoughts They spark something within you And you can begin to feel your Deepest Darkest Brightest Most hurtful thoughts And you too, become a poet

0

Feb 11, 2023

Feb 11, 2023 at 6:55 PM UTC

Poet

When I lay in bed Body tired, lights off But mind on I write words in my head. They rarely rhyme Or have any real basis, Ragged lines Slipping in time. Emotions and feelings Jumbled and digressed Blurred memories Torn into segments Of little, poorly formed Ellipses. And I have the nerve To call myself a poet. Because when the words form They resonate Within me. They make me feel everything And nothing. And sometimes, When you read the scattered formation Of my Deepest Darkest Brightest Most hurtful thoughts They spark something within you And you can begin to feel your Deepest Darkest Brightest Most hurtful thoughts And you too, become a poet

35

What made me so unlovable to the stars? Was it the broken scars That surrounded my broken heart? Or the melody that ripped From my chords When I spoke? Or was it the moons Who gleamed and shined? Did they distract you, From my beauty beneath? But let’s not blame others, For the destruction we’ve caused, And seek for ourselves what tore us apart. The duller I get, The brighter you shine. So what made me so unlovable, To you, My golden star.

0

Jan 31, 2023

Jan 31, 2023 at 6:50 PM UTC

Star

What made me so unlovable to the stars? Was it the broken scars That surrounded my broken heart? Or the melody that ripped From my chords When I spoke? Or was it the moons Who gleamed and shined? Did they distract you, From my beauty beneath? But let’s not blame others, For the destruction we’ve caused, And seek for ourselves what tore us apart. The duller I get, The brighter you shine. So what made me so unlovable, To you, My golden star.

19

How do I tell my mother That the reason I refuse To clean my room Is because I swore That before I could **** myself I would leave the place sparkling for her? How do I explain That every time she begs me to pick up The ***** clothes from my floor I refuse to do so Because I am begging for thread Praying for a reason to hang on Other than my ***** room

0

Dec 4, 2022

Dec 4, 2022 at 8:13 PM UTC

Thread

How do I tell my mother That the reason I refuse To clean my room Is because I swore That before I could **** myself I would leave the place sparkling for her? How do I explain That every time she begs me to pick up The ***** clothes from my floor I refuse to do so Because I am begging for thread Praying for a reason to hang on Other than my ***** room

13

I’m sick of being lonely In a pool full of people Who’ll only swim towards me if I swim to them first If I wasn’t the one Who always picked up the phone Went to your name Typed out a message And pressed send Would I ever hear from you again? If I wasn’t the one To call you up And tell you how much I missed you Would I ever hear you say the same?

0

Nov 5, 2022

Nov 5, 2022 at 8:11 PM UTC

Swim

I’m sick of being lonely In a pool full of people Who’ll only swim towards me if I swim to them first If I wasn’t the one Who always picked up the phone Went to your name Typed out a message And pressed send Would I ever hear from you again? If I wasn’t the one To call you up And tell you how much I missed you Would I ever hear you say the same?

15

To be honest it's hard to see the bigger picture when I'm surrounded by incomplete works. But maybe the point is not to get to the end or to celebrate our finishing's. But instead it is to feel the journey and not mourn the missing puzzle piece, but rather to enjoy the pleasure in finding it.

0

Aug 27, 2022

Aug 27, 2022 at 4:45 PM UTC

Puzzle

To be honest it's hard to see the bigger picture when I'm surrounded by incomplete works. But maybe the point is not to get to the end or to celebrate our finishing's. But instead it is to feel the journey and not mourn the missing puzzle piece, but rather to enjoy the pleasure in finding it.

12