He was a hurricane.
When we met, I dismissed the rain
as a pleasant spring shower.
Everyone saw the dark clouds,
but his eyes were so bright
I thought they were the sun
After we spoke I fell harder.
The wind was pulling me in
He was amazing.
I thought I was in love.
I was a fool to think I could fall
for something so destructive.
But I guess, at the time,
I just thought he was
helping the flowers grow
instead of ripping them up
by their roots.
I said yes when I entered
the eye of the storm.
Everything was so perfect.
he was everything I wanted:
kind, compassionate,
he said I was beautiful.
But beauty doesn’t last,
everything perfect gets a scratch,
and the sun went away
as the storm raged on.
He was a hurricane.
He said he would **** himself
when I needed to leave
so my anxiety would go back to normal.
I never liked the sound of thunder
and his voice boomed with every word.
he came to school with
bandages on his arms
and blamed it on me
because I had fallen asleep
and forgot my phone was on silent.
He was a hurricane.
I fought for my life
and he won.
When I got to heaven,
she was there.
She is heaven.
Her eyes hold the secrets of the universe.
Her hands fit perfectly in mine
and she lead me away from the storm.
She says she has been trying
since the beginning,
but he was like a car crash.
I couldn’t stop staring.
She is heaven.
Her laugh is filled with butterflies
and her smile is brighter than any star.
She says my name and I melt.
I have wanted to see heaven for so long,
but I couldn’t begin to fathom the beauty
I would see in front of me.
I knew about heaven.
I knew her energy couldn’t be matched.
I knew her happiness was short-lived,
when everyone wanted it to be forever.
I knew heaven was someone else’s hell.
I knew my heaven had been hurt.
I knew she had been through hurricanes.
But there is so much about heaven I never knew
I did not know how blissfully ignorant
my wonderful heaven could be.
Heaven has a short temper.
She’s sassy and sarcastic in the best way.
She can hold her own, but sometimes
she wants you to hold her
because being someone’s heaven is hard.
She told me I was her heaven.
I was her heaven after so many hurricanes
When he finally killed my spirits,
she brought them back.
He was a hurricane
that brought me straight to heaven,
and I couldn’t be happier.
Mar 17, 2020
Mar 17, 2020 at 2:31 PM UTC
Why are you leaving?
you could stay here with me
and with her.
She’s the reason you’d stay
and yet you’re going off to Texas in August
and you’ll be even more distant
then you already are.
She’ll break up with you the day you leave
and I’ll be here to put you back together
like I have been the past four times
Why are you doing this?
You’re going to die out there
I know you’ve been training for years
but I don’t know how to train myself
to stop the tears
when the next war starts
and you’re there
in the middle of the battlefield.
You’re supposed to have a family with her,
so why are you risking everything?
Why do you insist on
laughing in the face of death?
You’re insane, or maybe just depressed.
Either way, you’re going to get killed
and when I see you in hell
I’m going to **** you again
for being such an idiot
and breaking the promise you made me.
if I have to suffer through watching you
get broken by her over and over
the least you could do
is keep your promise
and stay alive for me.
You know I’ll miss you.
Your stupid hair, your sad eyes,
your dumb smile that makes me melt,
your awful contagious laugh,
all the teasing and jokes
that make me want to walk away,
but you always pull me back in
saying “c’mon, you know you love me.”
And every time you’re right.
If only you loved me the way you love her.
You say you did.
You loved me.
But somewhere along the way,
when I was picking up
the pieces of your heart,
when you said you’d wait for me,
someone took the piece of you
that loved me
and threw it away.
Poems are personal so maybe
it was a mistake to give you this,
but seeing you in my dreams
alongside everyone that will
fight with you when the time comes......
I couldn’t keep it in.
I had to tell you.
I love you.
And you promised that
you would stay alive,
even if you had to take me with you.
I wish you still meant that
But maybe that message
was meant for her.
The one you’re always with.
The one who keeps breaking you.
The one that’s going to leave you again,
like she has so many times before.
If you didn’t just get the wrong number
or somehow got our names mixed up,
then I want you to know
I’ll still travel the world with you.
I’ll stay with you wherever you’re stationed
and pray to God that you come home.
Because all I want
is for you to stay alive.
So please
stay alive,
for me?
Feb 22, 2020
Feb 22, 2020 at 1:18 PM UTC
There's a monster
we all have inside of us.
He doesn't have a name or a face,
not a single image he uses
with his many hosts.
He instead shifts his body
to fool everyone into thinking
that he is a friend
instead of a deadly parasite.
Sometimes his name is anger.
Anger is tall. Broad.
He is handsome in a way
that makes women faint
and men envious.
Anger is loud. Rash.
He says things he may
or may not mean,
but he'll never say he's sorry.
Anger sits deep inside your chest
crushing your lungs
and suffocating you
Sometimes his name is anxiety.
Anxiety is small. Worrisome.
This would not be a problem
if you knew how strong
he could really be.
Anxiety is quiet. Concerned.
Anxiety lives inside your head,
pulling the strings of your emotions,
keeping his eyes on everything you do.
He is waiting for the perfect moment
to have everything
crash around you
Other times, his name is depression.
Depression takes many forms
He can be so tiny, so minuscule
that you would do anything for him
because you cannot see
what he is capable of.
He can be as tall
as a ten-story building.
You do as he says because
you fear that he will crush you
in his palms.
You have yet to realize
he is already doing that.
Depression is a weight
inside your stomach.
You cannot get out of bed
on days he is the giant,
and everyone thinks he is gone
on days he is as small as a pebble.
His name can be PTSD
It can be anorexia nervosa or bulimia.
Maybe for you, he’s paranoia or OCD.
Perhaps his name is Schizophrenia.
Social anxiety or DID,
Insomnia or ADHD,
Body dysphoria or Bipolar disorder
His name does not matter
He is within every single one of us.
And the only way to make him stop
is to acknowledge he is there.
So anxiety, depression, and anorexia nervosa,
I know you’re there.
And I’m taking my life back.
Jan 20, 2020
Jan 20, 2020 at 12:03 PM UTC
Everything you do lights me up
like a firework
Your hands are matches,
my body is the fuse,
You set me off and
I explode into a
show of colors
Some might call this suicide,
I call it love
because dying at your hands
is better than being alive
and never getting to feel your touch
you saved me from the
wretched place I call my mind,
pulled me out of the
toxic waste of his memories
and wrapped me up
in a blanket of love
but that love is not without worry
what if you turn into him?
use me for everything
big or small
except to love
what if I am not enough
to satisfy you?
My body and blood are not limitless
If you get too hungry
or your thirst becomes too much
I cannot give what I do not have
that love is not without fear
you will begin to pull my strings
making me a puppet
never to speak out of hand
move without my master
telling me to do so
a sorry pile of sticks
you will treat me like a child
because I tell myself I am one
but instead of taking care of me
nurturing me and loving me
you tell me everything I cant do
I can't escape you
I can't love anyone else
I am yours and yours alone
that love is not without hope
I hope that you love me
your love means
I can be anything
I can be loved
I can be wanted
I can be admired
I can be
This love is not without
because I have you
Jan 16, 2020
Jan 16, 2020 at 7:20 PM UTC
What am I to you but a body to control?
I am nothing.
I survive off of you alone
Without your thoughts I am dead.
Without your hands on me
To support my back I melt.
You hold my hips to
Keep my spine aligned.
You are my savior.
You are my protector
Except when you are too busy
To keep me on my feet.
Except when she is more important.
Except when it is not convenient.
That is when I am just another person
I am just another body,
Just another soul.
Just someone else to leave behind
Like the ****** wrappers in your car
After yet another girl loses her everything
To you.
But you remind me that I’m beautiful
After my shirt comes off and the sun goes down
People call it manipulation
I call it love.
You only tell me that you love me when
Your hand goes beneath the sheets
Or under my shirt
Or in my hair and around my throat
While we’re at church
I feel like a ****
But hey, at least you love me.
At least you love me
When it’s convenient
For you.
Dec 21, 2019
Dec 21, 2019 at 1:08 PM UTC
I can’t escape these thoughts
It’s like I’m drowning
In a sea of hatred, anger, anxiety,
And the fear of losing someone
Who meant so much to me.
The world was crashing around us
And I can’t do anything to save you
From the fires of hell
Coming to get you.
You say I’m clingy, needy, codependent.
But if you took two seconds
To look at what is
Happening around us,
You’d see that I’m not
Just your clingy ex-girlfriend,
I’m clinging onto dear life
Because ********* we’re
Only hanging on by a single thread.
You grabbed it before
I could even tell we were falling
You say that I use you but
How on earth could I use you
When I can’t tell what you’re thinking?
Manipulation. Mind tricks.
All impossible when the subject is
Stuck, accusing everyone of
The same **** joke.
Newsflash sweetheart,
The joke is over.
You took us, made us forget ourselves
And now nothing in the world makes sense
I can’t escape these thoughts
Because you’re drowning me
In a sea of your hatred
Your anger
Your anxiety
Your fear.
I’m drowning.
Dec 7, 2019
Dec 7, 2019 at 4:59 PM UTC
I am a fragile piece of pottery,
capable of holding anything you need from me.
You can fill me with water, wine, dirt, or dust,
and I will always treat it like gold.
You were a gun, I was your target practice.
You learned to tread carefully, knowing a single word
could shatter me.
You forgot to hold your tongue,
slowly stopped caring.
You knew I was fragile,
yet you fired with intent to break me.
You needed me shattered.
I was a fragile piece of pottery,
now only a pile of cracked clay.
You never cared to clean up the mess you made,
always blaming me for my brokenness.
Your bullets left holes in the museum walls,
and I was the one who paid for every fine.
When you left,
you took the roses
with you
And I finally saw
every red flag
I was warned of.
K.W.
Nov 30, 2019
Nov 30, 2019 at 3:23 PM UTC
The sun and moon live in harmony,
One always depending on the other
Needing his light.
Although he is not appreciated as much as the sun,
The moon is reminded of his love.
Without the moon, the sun has no one to
share his light with.
No one to enjoy his conversations,
as the stars are too afraid to get too close.
He is anxiously waiting for every dusk and dawn,
Knowing these were the only times they had.
Without the sun, the moon would be forgotten,
No one to light the night, no one to guide the footsteps
Of Night Owls across the world.
He waits patiently for dusk and dawn,
Knowing he would get to meet the sun once again.
The sun and moon live in harmony.
Although everyone disapproves of their love,
They continue to exchange stolen kisses
At every dusk and dawn
K.W.
Nov 30, 2019
Nov 30, 2019 at 3:10 PM UTC
Life is a story.
Every day is a new chapter with new characters and interests.
Every day is a chance to move the story along, introduce a new conflict to keep your readers hooked.
Life is an adventure novel.
Each page is used to tell your journey through life, to let the reader live through you.
Even if you wish you were the reader and not the protagonist.
Even if you feel like you are your own antagonist.
Life wasn’t supposed to be a romance novel.
He wasn’t supposed to waltz in and become your Christian Gray, your Edward or Jacob.
He wasn’t supposed to mean so much to you.
You wonder if your author is playing a joke on you.
Who took the story and changed the genre so drastically?
Maybe it was always a romance, and you were just too blind.
Maybe all the guys you helped on your adventures were possible soulmates.
Maybe he decided the genre should change.
But he can’t be your Edward; your Christian Gray.
He was written into someone else’s story already. This is no romance novel, no.
This is a heart-breaking adventure where the protagonist just wants to get through life.
I just want to get through life.
Nov 28, 2019
Nov 28, 2019 at 10:46 PM UTC
I can’t keep my mind off of the way you make me feel.
I get genuinely happy when I talk to you
And see your smile.
I can’t help but fall deeper in love with you
When you make me feel this way
I can’t keep myself from hearing your voice in my head.
All you have to do is speak
And every nerve in my body is calm.
No more anxiety, no more depression,
No more constant thoughts;
Everything falls silent.
I can’t stop feeling your hands on my body–
The way you hold me when I’m crying
And can’t do anything but
Wish I was dead.
I feel your hand running through my hair;
You’re teasing me, trying to make me
Fall asleep when you and I
Both know I shouldn’t.
But that’s why you do it.
I can’t stop myself from texting you because
********* you’re the only person
Who can stand to talk to me
For more than two minutes
Because I’m such a clingy mess and
No one wants to clean this up.
Neither do you,
But you can bear to live
Next to it.
I can’t stop myself from sending these messages
Because I finally found
Something to write about,
Grim as it may be.
I thought about
Everything I love
And you came to mind.
You, you, you
Keep running
through my mind
And for once,
I don’t want the
Never-ending
Thoughts
To stop.
K.W.
Nov 28, 2019
Nov 28, 2019 at 8:00 PM UTC