Tru1ownssky - Hello Poetry

Excitement stirs like a busy hive, My mind swoons as the minutes pass by, A climactic raise in serotonin, as we lock eyes. Heartbeats flutter as we exchange hi’s. My stomach feels as if it filled with a field of newly transformed butterflies. All the hope I have left in this life hopes... that this moment, never goes bye.

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Jul 22, 2020

Jul 22, 2020 at 11:14 PM UTC

Flutters

Excitement stirs like a busy hive, My mind swoons as the minutes pass by, A climactic raise in serotonin, as we lock eyes. Heartbeats flutter as we exchange hi’s. My stomach feels as if it filled with a field of newly transformed butterflies. All the hope I have left in this life hopes... that this moment, never goes bye.

6

With eyes as dark as licorice pierce through me, I don't exist. Springy brown curls, I call them cinnamon, wrap me up and strangle me within. Razor-sharp wit, sarcasm, trapped inside a crystal chasm. Candy-coated, sweet outer shell, hiding demons, fire... and hell.

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Apr 2, 2020

Apr 2, 2020 at 11:55 AM UTC

Outer

With eyes as dark as licorice pierce through me, I don't exist. Springy brown curls, I call them cinnamon, wrap me up and strangle me within. Razor-sharp wit, sarcasm, trapped inside a crystal chasm. Candy-coated, sweet outer shell, hiding demons, fire... and hell.

7

Nostalgia in spring time brings much gloom, but not as much as this pressure in my chest and the sense of impending doom. A walk around an empty house, without your energy to fill a single room. A melancholy veil, one I wish lifts soon. As the breeze serenades all the people the lovers swoon, the warm air caresses my skin, the scent of spring life in the wind, as the air carries the sounds of a happy tune, on a beautiful weekend afternoon. My memory is flooded with sounds of you, the feel of you, the scent of you, the hope of you returning soon, so that the presence of you can once again fill my room.

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Apr 20, 2019

Apr 20, 2019 at 9:44 AM UTC

Spring

Nostalgia in spring time brings much gloom, but not as much as this pressure in my chest and the sense of impending doom. A walk around an empty house, without your energy to fill a single room. A melancholy veil, one I wish lifts soon. As the breeze serenades all the people the lovers swoon, the warm air caresses my skin, the scent of spring life in the wind, as the air carries the sounds of a happy tune, on a beautiful weekend afternoon. My memory is flooded with sounds of you, the feel of you, the scent of you, the hope of you returning soon, so that the presence of you can once again fill my room.

3

Inside of my space, another dimension. Time is nothing but an invention. A way to make the day, tick away. A way to justify all the words I say. Relative to me as well as to you. Relative to the feel of what life has shown me to do. There’s an unnerving, sinking feeling. That it’s passing, slipping, seeking and stealing. A void in which should be filled with creative, imaginative grey matter. Has fallen dark with thoughts and only they matter. Thoughts of how relative time may be, but I can’t help but to feel that it’s constantly escaping me.

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Mar 5, 2019

Mar 5, 2019 at 8:26 AM UTC

Relative Time

Inside of my space, another dimension. Time is nothing but an invention. A way to make the day, tick away. A way to justify all the words I say. Relative to me as well as to you. Relative to the feel of what life has shown me to do. There’s an unnerving, sinking feeling. That it’s passing, slipping, seeking and stealing. A void in which should be filled with creative, imaginative grey matter. Has fallen dark with thoughts and only they matter. Thoughts of how relative time may be, but I can’t help but to feel that it’s constantly escaping me.

9

In a world full of colors, I notice the selfish grays. Stealing vibrancy from all the other colors. Their spectral rays. grey takes over and has a monotone for every shade. Every other color fights back with their array of shades. But no one color can out do grey. Not black nor white has power, as the gray has a place at the end of every tone. No true individual vibrant color can own its own. Grey steals and owns but still is all alone.

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Feb 5, 2019

Feb 5, 2019 at 7:52 PM UTC

It’s all grey

In a world full of colors, I notice the selfish grays. Stealing vibrancy from all the other colors. Their spectral rays. grey takes over and has a monotone for every shade. Every other color fights back with their array of shades. But no one color can out do grey. Not black nor white has power, as the gray has a place at the end of every tone. No true individual vibrant color can own its own. Grey steals and owns but still is all alone.

9

I write so that my words will stay. Even as the memory of me passes away. In the event I’m no longer physical, my sprit will remain. So that my professed love for you doesn’t die in vein. So, in no way can there be a false claim. my undying love for you will always remain.

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Feb 5, 2019

Feb 5, 2019 at 7:31 PM UTC

Immortal

I write so that my words will stay. Even as the memory of me passes away. In the event I’m no longer physical, my sprit will remain. So that my professed love for you doesn’t die in vein. So, in no way can there be a false claim. my undying love for you will always remain.

5

At the end of my days I just fade away, after putting on my face, and staring in my personal play. I just fade away. The sky fades with me, to bluish gray and I look to it and say, this again has been a hell of a day. I long for the day when the fading just stays and I no longer contemplate another played through day.

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Feb 5, 2019

Feb 5, 2019 at 7:27 PM UTC

Fade away

At the end of my days I just fade away, after putting on my face, and staring in my personal play. I just fade away. The sky fades with me, to bluish gray and I look to it and say, this again has been a hell of a day. I long for the day when the fading just stays and I no longer contemplate another played through day.

4

If time is what we need, why doesn’t it pass fast enough. To wash away the past, it doesn’t take us far enough. In this life time there’s so much to bare, I could combust. Is there even enough time? For us to be us? I fear that only time could tell, but there may not be enough. What could time tell me, except there’s a possibility of us or no us? In due time I tell me, but it proves not enough. Maybe it would be best, if I simply self distruct.

0

Dec 3, 2018

Dec 3, 2018 at 7:32 PM UTC

Time

If time is what we need, why doesn’t it pass fast enough. To wash away the past, it doesn’t take us far enough. In this life time there’s so much to bare, I could combust. Is there even enough time? For us to be us? I fear that only time could tell, but there may not be enough. What could time tell me, except there’s a possibility of us or no us? In due time I tell me, but it proves not enough. Maybe it would be best, if I simply self distruct.

9

So, this is what I get. I think sitting all alone. All those times I took advantage, I should have known. Now every sound echos off the walls, in these empty halls. In now a house, that used to be a home. Once filled with family, now is only occupied by me... alone.

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Nov 22, 2018

Nov 22, 2018 at 11:08 PM UTC

Alone

So, this is what I get. I think sitting all alone. All those times I took advantage, I should have known. Now every sound echos off the walls, in these empty halls. In now a house, that used to be a home. Once filled with family, now is only occupied by me... alone.

6

I let my fingers take a stroll along her back, as I can not walk in her shoes. I listen intently to her flow of words as to pay my dues. My fingers end at her waist grasping her and turning her face to face. I calm her with simple words, “you’re safe, we are in the same place.”

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Nov 20, 2018

Nov 20, 2018 at 11:38 PM UTC

Relate

I let my fingers take a stroll along her back, as I can not walk in her shoes. I listen intently to her flow of words as to pay my dues. My fingers end at her waist grasping her and turning her face to face. I calm her with simple words, “you’re safe, we are in the same place.”

5