addisonjonas - Hello Poetry

I don't always feel like our love is equal. I lie awake at night staring at the photos on my wall replaying our last phone call like a broken record or tripping on something waiting for the fall. We're so many miles apart I feel like I'm going crazy sometimes I think back to the start when our love was deep and less disrupted by misspoken words or quiet daggers from a half-broken heart. It seems like the sky is swallowing me whole waiting for the time to pass by, until I see you again and our conversation can be more than just a meaningless exchange of air- because I know that you care. I sort of get scared because sometimes you're hot other days you're cold and we both get upset. I just hope you'll still be there and that you won't give up when the "going gets tough." i'll still love you when times are rough.

0

May 20, 2018

May 20, 2018 at 11:56 PM UTC

addisonjonas

i'll still-

I don't always feel like our love is equal. I lie awake at night staring at the photos on my wall replaying our last phone call like a broken record or tripping on something waiting for the fall. We're so many miles apart I feel like I'm going crazy sometimes I think back to the start when our love was deep and less disrupted by misspoken words or quiet daggers from a half-broken heart. It seems like the sky is swallowing me whole waiting for the time to pass by, until I see you again and our conversation can be more than just a meaningless exchange of air- because I know that you care. I sort of get scared because sometimes you're hot other days you're cold and we both get upset. I just hope you'll still be there and that you won't give up when the "going gets tough." i'll still love you when times are rough.

31

why are we back to only ‘sometimes’ sometimes saying you miss me, maybe answering the phone when I call or sometimes calling me gorgeous am I still gorgeous? or am I just not as important because ‘sometimes’ is only sometimes, and I guess I am only on your mind ever so often.

0

Apr 12, 2018

Apr 12, 2018 at 12:56 AM UTC

addisonjonas

only 'sometimes'

why are we back to only ‘sometimes’ sometimes saying you miss me, maybe answering the phone when I call or sometimes calling me gorgeous am I still gorgeous? or am I just not as important because ‘sometimes’ is only sometimes, and I guess I am only on your mind ever so often.

12

You were a silhouette made of the finest blood and bones. The way you slouch your shoulders Like you’re too discomfited to show your own figure. Meticulous in the way you pull tobacco from the pouch You place it in the paper, and lick it shut. The cigarette is gripped softly by your extended fingers, Slowly drifting up to your lips. You held it so closely, Caressing it with delicate fingertips And raising it to your mouth with such poise. You walked outside, Light. Inhale. You smoked your cigarette With grace and charm- Almost sexually, in fact, as if you knew I was watching. You didn’t. Before stomping it out, You looked through the window. Seeing me, just barely seeing you So much so you made my own lungs hurt.

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Mar 14, 2018

Mar 14, 2018 at 10:36 PM UTC

addisonjonas

Smoke Signals

You were a silhouette made of the finest blood and bones. The way you slouch your shoulders Like you’re too discomfited to show your own figure. Meticulous in the way you pull tobacco from the pouch You place it in the paper, and lick it shut. The cigarette is gripped softly by your extended fingers, Slowly drifting up to your lips. You held it so closely, Caressing it with delicate fingertips And raising it to your mouth with such poise. You walked outside, Light. Inhale. You smoked your cigarette With grace and charm- Almost sexually, in fact, as if you knew I was watching. You didn’t. Before stomping it out, You looked through the window. Seeing me, just barely seeing you So much so you made my own lungs hurt.

20

Watching You Not watching me. Your eyes like glass I can almost spot my own reflection. The taste of You leaves A bitter burn on my tongue- Like poison, or spoiled milk. But For some reason That poison tastes as sweet as peaches And You Feel as good as Paradise. It is just too bad That all I am left with are memories and a sunburn.

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Mar 13, 2018

Mar 13, 2018 at 9:27 PM UTC

addisonjonas

Paradise

Watching You Not watching me. Your eyes like glass I can almost spot my own reflection. The taste of You leaves A bitter burn on my tongue- Like poison, or spoiled milk. But For some reason That poison tastes as sweet as peaches And You Feel as good as Paradise. It is just too bad That all I am left with are memories and a sunburn.

16

A father’s love is supposed to be Your first real relationship with a man. You trust him and cherish him Unconditionally, and he nurtures you As he tends to your sorrows. He makes you laugh and cry All at the same time, and you find yourself saying I love you More often than just once. He holds you late at night When you’re troubled or uneasy, And he is the first thing you see in the morning light. A father’s love was my first relationship With a man. And while he nurtured me and cherished Me, and made me laugh and cry all at the same time, He also broke me. He was my first heartache, The way you feel your lungs Break. When you can’t breathe and you want to suffocate. When your lover flees even after Begging him to stay. Adolescent boy or middle aged man, they always leave and Shatter your soul All the same. But The thing is, Adolescent boys don’t know any better. A father’s love is supposed to be nothing less than Your first real relationship. I just felt sorry for my mother, Who married a child instead of a man.

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Mar 13, 2018

Mar 13, 2018 at 9:25 PM UTC

addisonjonas

-From your Daughter

A father’s love is supposed to be Your first real relationship with a man. You trust him and cherish him Unconditionally, and he nurtures you As he tends to your sorrows. He makes you laugh and cry All at the same time, and you find yourself saying I love you More often than just once. He holds you late at night When you’re troubled or uneasy, And he is the first thing you see in the morning light. A father’s love was my first relationship With a man. And while he nurtured me and cherished Me, and made me laugh and cry all at the same time, He also broke me. He was my first heartache, The way you feel your lungs Break. When you can’t breathe and you want to suffocate. When your lover flees even after Begging him to stay. Adolescent boy or middle aged man, they always leave and Shatter your soul All the same. But The thing is, Adolescent boys don’t know any better. A father’s love is supposed to be nothing less than Your first real relationship. I just felt sorry for my mother, Who married a child instead of a man.

32

It is 1:03 in the morning Even though it does not really feel like morning At all. I’m writing in your book, you see Awake longing for You. The words escaping me Like liquid gasoline, patiently waiting For a fantasizing flame Once I crawl into bed And start moaning your name, that’s it I can’t get you out of my head. Until I finish I have goosebumps covering my thighs Even though, I must say Your hand still feels much better Than mine.

0

Mar 13, 2018

Mar 13, 2018 at 9:23 PM UTC

addisonjonas

(I miss U / Touch)

It is 1:03 in the morning Even though it does not really feel like morning At all. I’m writing in your book, you see Awake longing for You. The words escaping me Like liquid gasoline, patiently waiting For a fantasizing flame Once I crawl into bed And start moaning your name, that’s it I can’t get you out of my head. Until I finish I have goosebumps covering my thighs Even though, I must say Your hand still feels much better Than mine.

15

I don’t think I’ve ever written Of you before. You were so easy to push left Feelings as fleeting as your Fascination for me. Not much of a fighter, Are you? It was easy For you to watch me walk away Not like you had much reason to stay, Anyway. I hope the warm weather is treating you Well, because when the snow falls here I sometimes think of that year Back in high school when it snowed Every single day. Two thousand one hundred and Ninety days around the sun Well spent It’s just unfortunate that our love Never made much of a dent in the grand scheme Of your life. I just hope you know That I tried. I swear that I tried.

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Mar 13, 2018

Mar 13, 2018 at 9:21 PM UTC

addisonjonas

Two Thousand One Hundred and Ninety

I don’t think I’ve ever written Of you before. You were so easy to push left Feelings as fleeting as your Fascination for me. Not much of a fighter, Are you? It was easy For you to watch me walk away Not like you had much reason to stay, Anyway. I hope the warm weather is treating you Well, because when the snow falls here I sometimes think of that year Back in high school when it snowed Every single day. Two thousand one hundred and Ninety days around the sun Well spent It’s just unfortunate that our love Never made much of a dent in the grand scheme Of your life. I just hope you know That I tried. I swear that I tried.

23

Frost began to form along The windows As the sun sang its song, it told the moon goodnight And the sky fell dark. The fluorescent-lit hallways became bleak As the evening passed by. I sat outside her room with my head in my hands My entire body sank into the floor And I tried to wipe my face dry. I watched as shapes and shadows came In and out of that bedroom door Even still I wasn’t ready to see what I came there for. I gained the courage to stand, trying my best And as I walked into the room I felt more tears Roll down my face and past my neck way down to my chest. She sat there with a glow just waiting for me, happy As can be. At the time My hair was long and tangled Reaching all the way down my back Compiled into a knotted mess. So I sat And let her play the role she was so longing to play. I told her I would stay. I removed a comb from her bedside drawer Just tell me if this hurts you, ok? Okay. – as she ran the bristles Through my mangled blonde strands. Ironic, because she did not have much hair at all. I let her stroke the back of my head with her wearied hands. I stayed for a while, Until the nurse came in and told me It was time to leave.

0

Mar 13, 2018

Mar 13, 2018 at 9:19 PM UTC

addisonjonas

For a while.

Frost began to form along The windows As the sun sang its song, it told the moon goodnight And the sky fell dark. The fluorescent-lit hallways became bleak As the evening passed by. I sat outside her room with my head in my hands My entire body sank into the floor And I tried to wipe my face dry. I watched as shapes and shadows came In and out of that bedroom door Even still I wasn’t ready to see what I came there for. I gained the courage to stand, trying my best And as I walked into the room I felt more tears Roll down my face and past my neck way down to my chest. She sat there with a glow just waiting for me, happy As can be. At the time My hair was long and tangled Reaching all the way down my back Compiled into a knotted mess. So I sat And let her play the role she was so longing to play. I told her I would stay. I removed a comb from her bedside drawer Just tell me if this hurts you, ok? Okay. – as she ran the bristles Through my mangled blonde strands. Ironic, because she did not have much hair at all. I let her stroke the back of my head with her wearied hands. I stayed for a while, Until the nurse came in and told me It was time to leave.

33

Skin like golden dew In the midst of a Shoreditch summer. Your lips like Milk & Honey, Let me have a taste of that. Transfixed with The way you say my name With that language I haven’t heard Before. Breakfast in bed. In the morning Chet Baker, Hit play. And tell me Soul of mine How do you do That thing where you draw The Art of Happiness In my mind With those eyes?

0

Mar 13, 2018

Mar 13, 2018 at 9:16 PM UTC

addisonjonas

The Central Line

Skin like golden dew In the midst of a Shoreditch summer. Your lips like Milk & Honey, Let me have a taste of that. Transfixed with The way you say my name With that language I haven’t heard Before. Breakfast in bed. In the morning Chet Baker, Hit play. And tell me Soul of mine How do you do That thing where you draw The Art of Happiness In my mind With those eyes?

21