We are one
My dear.
My love.
We are one
Stumbling over joined sentences
Finishing each other's jokes
We are a ball of yarn that was once two,
So tangled and convoluted that we don't know where one begins and another ends.
I know your habits back to front
I know exactly what will make you feel better
Too many nights I have stayed up taking care of you
Too few have you done the same
When I need you most you're not there
I want to believe that I am fine
That I am fine with you
Being just like me
We love the same things
We laugh at the same jokes
We are one
But I lose myself in them
Maybe being one isn't a good thing
I wish you knew
How many dreams
I crushed because I wanted you to have them
I complete you
But sometimes
It feels
like you
don't complete
me
Dec 18, 2017
Dec 18, 2017 at 3:18 AM UTC
I'm at a party
I feel alone
I shouldn't but the empty seeps in like quicksand
and
I'm
drowning
in
my
thoughts
I'm at a movie
a friend and my partner beside me
bright screen
loud sounds
they are holding my hands
but I'm floating above us
not
really
there
I'm laying in bed with them
my partner
my dear
they are holding my hand and playing with my hair
my vision blurs
its fading
alone next to my love
It's not your fault
I don't know whats wrong
but
I
feel
alone
in
a
crowd
Dec 18, 2017
Dec 18, 2017 at 2:48 AM UTC
For the broken
For the lost
For the confused
I’m here
For those who need a hand to hold
For those curled up in a ball on the floor
For the scared
I’m here
I will hold your hand
I will help you up
I will stand up for you
I’m here
Nov 9, 2017
Nov 9, 2017 at 10:04 PM UTC
Hello to old friends and hello to new ones
I’ve been gone but now I’m back
And I won’t be going anywhere anytime soon
I’m a bit rusty and disused but with some work I’ll be as good as new
Nov 9, 2017
Nov 9, 2017 at 9:52 PM UTC
I've been looking in the mirror recently.
I'm not sure I like what I see.
These big eyebrows? Yes.
That mole? Yes.
Brown eyes? Glasses? Yes.
Mine, mine, me.
But I swear there's something different in that mirror
That I just can't see.
That thing in my reflection?
It's really not me.
May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 1:16 PM UTC
I wish I could say someone broke me
But that's not the case at all.
I wish I could say that someone dropped me and watched me fall
But that would be a lie
The only one to blame
Is me, myself and I and my stupid ******* brain.
Mar 7, 2017
Mar 7, 2017 at 3:57 AM UTC
Most humans drink coffee and wine
They consume television and mainstream novels
They feed their souls with popularity contests and safe relationships
But poets
We could not survive without passion, intensity, and meaning
Everything we feel is felt to the depths of our souls
We are the ones to put into words the unspeakable pain of heartbreak
The incomprehensible joy of falling in love
We are the ones brave enough to say out loud the diaries of a thousand souls
Us poets
We drink tea and whiskey
Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 5:04 PM UTC
Wanting to be a different person is hard because I want to be a ***** with blond hair and blue eyes and to have a big strong boyfriend.
But I also want tattoos and pale skin and to shave the sides of my head and dress in button ups and ties and to have a deep voice.
Or I could be tall and thin with long hair and a skirt and a cute voice and big sweaters and a little fluff.
But I also want to be a boy with a broken heart to mend and wear makeup and to fix myself.
But
I'm none of these
I'm a person who wants more
I want to be different
But I'm just me
And I'm getting better at liking just me
Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 4:42 PM UTC
Some poems are hard, I just don’t know what to write
the words stick in the back of my head
and refuse to form sentences and lines.
I sit and wait and hope for the words but
they are lost in the jumble that is my thoughts
like a tangled ball of yarn I have to untangle it piece by piece
and hope it is usable and not just a pile of ruined thoughts.
it reminds me of knitting a sweater
stitch by stitch, word by word, it comes together
and after work and some time it makes
a beautiful thing to be worn and showed off,
but sometimes it fails and falls apart
it unravels in my hands and the hard work
that I have put my love into is lost
it crumbles like a cliff into the sea
making waves that crash and wreck my body
leaving it helpless and crumpled
like the ball of paper I threw on the floor.
a small white ball on a grey floor,
the beauty of it hits me and I find my inspiration
it’s something simple but isn’t all beauty simple?
the curl of hair on a lover stretched out like a cat in the sun
moonlight floating through the window
falling on a pale white limb so much like the paper
with scribbles and crossed out lines
the paper is beautiful, damaged yes
but beautiful none the less, like a body
with curves and waves and endings and beginnings
scars and stretch marks pail in the dark
shining like tears on the cheek of a girl who lost
lost a parent, or a love, or lost the part of her
that cried “you are beautiful
“you are loved, it’s okay not to be okay
“as long as you rise up again and what ever
you do, do not forget who you are”
it is beauty plain and simple
and as you read my piece of paper
with the lost poem of the girl who fell apart you’ll see
its simple the floor is the sky and the word are stars
Nov 16, 2016
Nov 16, 2016 at 10:43 PM UTC
A little girl
A little girl with dark skin and curly hair
Bullied
Hurt
Called names because of how she was born
A mother
A shining beacon of light
Loving and caring
Writes words on paper
"I am beautiful, I am black"
The little girl reads
"I am smart. I am funny"
A smile
"I am vibrant. I am kind"
A laugh
"I am honest. I am helpful. I am graceful. I am nice. I am proud to be brown. I am magical, unbreakable, and confident.”
These words brought tears to my eyes
And I am sure that she will do great things
Nov 7, 2016
Nov 7, 2016 at 4:45 PM UTC