ady - Hello Poetry

I’m a ravenous, lonely beast, Forked tongue and gnashing teeth. His heart stuck down my throat; A lamb that’s taken a (the) bite out of the wolf.

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Dec 22, 2025

Dec 22, 2025 at 5:00 AM UTC

A snippet of me III

I’m a ravenous, lonely beast, Forked tongue and gnashing teeth. His heart stuck down my throat; A lamb that’s taken a (the) bite out of the wolf.

4

And I just think of all the hurt we’ve done to each other. However, small- Like grains of sand, eventually accumulating An hourglass. Clumping together, sandcastles on stormy beaches. And how, at some point, All those small grains will outweigh the love We have for each other. How it will weigh us down, Sink or abandon ship. I think of how, despite knowing this; Knowing us, in and out, Around and inside, I can’t do much but observe the impending wreckage. Beached and bleached on sandy shores, Our bloated love out to see. Bury us in the mantle of the sand, in the floor bed of the sea. We fail because of our love, not because of our lack of.

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Dec 9, 2024

Dec 9, 2024 at 3:00 AM UTC

Beached things

And I just think of all the hurt we’ve done to each other. However, small- Like grains of sand, eventually accumulating An hourglass. Clumping together, sandcastles on stormy beaches. And how, at some point, All those small grains will outweigh the love We have for each other. How it will weigh us down, Sink or abandon ship. I think of how, despite knowing this; Knowing us, in and out, Around and inside, I can’t do much but observe the impending wreckage. Beached and bleached on sandy shores, Our bloated love out to see. Bury us in the mantle of the sand, in the floor bed of the sea. We fail because of our love, not because of our lack of.

20

what was i supposed to be? imploded stardust, floating aimlessly across the universe expanding, never minding cruelty escaping, dissipating, evaporating, but i can't be nothing if i was something, laws of conservation of energy rejecting my lack of preservation. i want liquid gold inside my veins, ruptured mind, kaleidoscope bones creaking in the night. i'm lost, florescent daylight cold and grim, fabricated and burning my retinas an eight hour parable trying, to stay afloat but coming home and wishing dark behind eyelids; burnt. what was i supposed to be? sunshine reflected on flowers warm and liquid, amber in the windows dripping, pain immersed in honey making the best out of a leak flowing endlessly through the tap, my kitchen sink old but practical. i was supposed to be me, whatever that may be.

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Jan 5, 2020

Jan 5, 2020 at 11:20 PM UTC

whatever this might be

what was i supposed to be? imploded stardust, floating aimlessly across the universe expanding, never minding cruelty escaping, dissipating, evaporating, but i can't be nothing if i was something, laws of conservation of energy rejecting my lack of preservation. i want liquid gold inside my veins, ruptured mind, kaleidoscope bones creaking in the night. i'm lost, florescent daylight cold and grim, fabricated and burning my retinas an eight hour parable trying, to stay afloat but coming home and wishing dark behind eyelids; burnt. what was i supposed to be? sunshine reflected on flowers warm and liquid, amber in the windows dripping, pain immersed in honey making the best out of a leak flowing endlessly through the tap, my kitchen sink old but practical. i was supposed to be me, whatever that may be.

25

when do we stop playing games with love? when do we let our cotton candy hearts be dissolved by a wet, sour tongue when do we allow ourselves to be vulnerable without anything in return? that's there's strenght in fragility and ferocity in salty tears; when do we stop lying to ourselves and settle for a love that doesn't burn our souls?

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Nov 26, 2018

Nov 26, 2018 at 3:12 AM UTC

of lies we tell ourselves

when do we stop playing games with love? when do we let our cotton candy hearts be dissolved by a wet, sour tongue when do we allow ourselves to be vulnerable without anything in return? that's there's strenght in fragility and ferocity in salty tears; when do we stop lying to ourselves and settle for a love that doesn't burn our souls?

9

we become stories, i've never had a first love; but i've ****** had one night stands and morning goodbye's told myself love is chemical love fades and never comes back. Love's a reaction, at the right or wrong time; we lie, we lay next to our selves, we seek to feel a hole in, to make ourselve fill in a mold that everyone's talked about but; what is love but imperfect. Filled with some lies, with some hatred with some humanity. I love, but I'll never be whole and never a hole; I'm complete yet wanting to be less lonely.

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Nov 26, 2018

Nov 26, 2018 at 12:34 AM UTC

who am I? if not a lover

we become stories, i've never had a first love; but i've ****** had one night stands and morning goodbye's told myself love is chemical love fades and never comes back. Love's a reaction, at the right or wrong time; we lie, we lay next to our selves, we seek to feel a hole in, to make ourselve fill in a mold that everyone's talked about but; what is love but imperfect. Filled with some lies, with some hatred with some humanity. I love, but I'll never be whole and never a hole; I'm complete yet wanting to be less lonely.

21

She’s tried to write so many times before but can’t. Sits down on the chair, fingers static over the keyboard. Where they were once electric with the flow of motion and words, they rest like the awkward break in a conversation. She thinks it’s so hard to write when you’re happy, loved the despair and feeling numb, used them like gas for a one way vehicle with only a crash for a destination. She loved her sadness too much that now that she’s happy words have betrayed her. What can she tell a world that relishes in the darkness of emotions, in the pain, the heartbreak, the despair, the sadness, the loneliness and the isolation when she herself thrived in the pessimism. How can you water a flower that nurtured itself in misery?

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Sep 24, 2018

Sep 24, 2018 at 8:41 PM UTC

the hypocrite (short narrative)

She’s tried to write so many times before but can’t. Sits down on the chair, fingers static over the keyboard. Where they were once electric with the flow of motion and words, they rest like the awkward break in a conversation. She thinks it’s so hard to write when you’re happy, loved the despair and feeling numb, used them like gas for a one way vehicle with only a crash for a destination. She loved her sadness too much that now that she’s happy words have betrayed her. What can she tell a world that relishes in the darkness of emotions, in the pain, the heartbreak, the despair, the sadness, the loneliness and the isolation when she herself thrived in the pessimism. How can you water a flower that nurtured itself in misery?

4

he kisses purple onto my skin and i let him because he says it’s love. between my blue skin and his red lips, we make color bloom, i say i love him too; maybe this time it will be true. love won’t save us, but it can make us better.

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Jun 19, 2018

Jun 19, 2018 at 10:31 PM UTC

a work in progress

he kisses purple onto my skin and i let him because he says it’s love. between my blue skin and his red lips, we make color bloom, i say i love him too; maybe this time it will be true. love won’t save us, but it can make us better.

8

I stopped believing in god because I couldn't hear him, because each night I prayed I felt foolish when no one answered, because I couldn't see the evidence of him but his absence. But I realize, that religion is faith trusting, blind and sometimes deaf faith is the blind leading the blind. I stopped believing in god because I found people. because, I could reach out and be held, because I could close my eyes and feel their presence, because I could talk and finally be heard. I put my faith in the cracks of their hands and even if they lied it didn't seem to matter, they could hurt me and I could hurt them; we could be mutually destructive and yet create something beautiful together. I belive in people and sometimes they believe in me.

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May 11, 2018

May 11, 2018 at 3:12 PM UTC

accepted prayers, resigned wishes

I stopped believing in god because I couldn't hear him, because each night I prayed I felt foolish when no one answered, because I couldn't see the evidence of him but his absence. But I realize, that religion is faith trusting, blind and sometimes deaf faith is the blind leading the blind. I stopped believing in god because I found people. because, I could reach out and be held, because I could close my eyes and feel their presence, because I could talk and finally be heard. I put my faith in the cracks of their hands and even if they lied it didn't seem to matter, they could hurt me and I could hurt them; we could be mutually destructive and yet create something beautiful together. I belive in people and sometimes they believe in me.

16

i don't deal with my problems; i bury them in my yard and in my haste forget that weeds grow without the need of water.

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Apr 17, 2018

Apr 17, 2018 at 10:18 PM UTC

things i'd like to get through