anthony-2 - Hello Poetry

Her hair may smell like sweet summer rain and her smile always settles weirdly in your stomach, but she is poison. She is a toxic cocktail garnished with cigarette smoke that reminds you of the night you came too close to kissing her. She is unattainable, she is right beside you and yet your fingertips cannot ever quiver hard enough to close the gap between you and her. You crave her so desperately. You would be humbled to fall apart for her. At her feet, you’d make your bed, and there you would stay all alone through the night, dreaming of how she swore she’d come back for you. There you will stay while the dawn filters in through the drapes, while the sharp rays of early morning light are all that is there for you to blame for your tears. She will not come back because boys will be boys, with their tousled hair and heavy brows and all of their hard edges, and she will love them for that. No matter how hard she bleeds before he gives way for her, she will melt into him. She wears your sorrows like a dress gown. You tell her past the knot in your throat that she looks gorgeous. Your palms itch; it takes everything in you to not smooth down the ripples in the fabric around her hips. Her night skin’s being shed by calloused hands within her first hour out at the bar. And in a few hours’ time, she’s battling her hangover with her head in your lap while you comb through the mess of her hair and tell her that she still deserves better. She says she knows that already. What she doesn’t know is that you do, too.

0

anthony-2

Aug 14, 2017

Aug 14, 2017 at 2:17 PM UTC

oliviagemarro

don't fall for her.

Her hair may smell like sweet summer rain and her smile always settles weirdly in your stomach, but she is poison. She is a toxic cocktail garnished with cigarette smoke that reminds you of the night you came too close to kissing her. She is unattainable, she is right beside you and yet your fingertips cannot ever quiver hard enough to close the gap between you and her. You crave her so desperately. You would be humbled to fall apart for her. At her feet, you’d make your bed, and there you would stay all alone through the night, dreaming of how she swore she’d come back for you. There you will stay while the dawn filters in through the drapes, while the sharp rays of early morning light are all that is there for you to blame for your tears. She will not come back because boys will be boys, with their tousled hair and heavy brows and all of their hard edges, and she will love them for that. No matter how hard she bleeds before he gives way for her, she will melt into him. She wears your sorrows like a dress gown. You tell her past the knot in your throat that she looks gorgeous. Your palms itch; it takes everything in you to not smooth down the ripples in the fabric around her hips. Her night skin’s being shed by calloused hands within her first hour out at the bar. And in a few hours’ time, she’s battling her hangover with her head in your lap while you comb through the mess of her hair and tell her that she still deserves better. She says she knows that already. What she doesn’t know is that you do, too.

4

You say I'm running from myself I guess you're right Maybe I am All I know is that the reason I hear my heartbeat so clearly Is because my chest is hollow I am made up of layers Too many layers As if my skin Was preparing to survive Out in dead winter at the South Pole I'm annoying I'm distrustful I'm stubborn And I'm doubtful And secretive Maybe downright manipulative But most of all I'm exhausted Exhausted of the nothingness That I float around in Exhausted of everything That comes and goes Ensuring chaos Exhausted of everything and nothing And all things in between Exhausted of living

0

anthony-2

Aug 14, 2017

Aug 14, 2017 at 2:15 PM UTC

RebelHeart

Exhausted.

You say I'm running from myself I guess you're right Maybe I am All I know is that the reason I hear my heartbeat so clearly Is because my chest is hollow I am made up of layers Too many layers As if my skin Was preparing to survive Out in dead winter at the South Pole I'm annoying I'm distrustful I'm stubborn And I'm doubtful And secretive Maybe downright manipulative But most of all I'm exhausted Exhausted of the nothingness That I float around in Exhausted of everything That comes and goes Ensuring chaos Exhausted of everything and nothing And all things in between Exhausted of living

27

Don't go far off, not even for a day Don't go far off, not even for a day, Because I don't know how to say it - a day is long And I will be waiting for you, as in An empty station when the trains are Parked off somewhere else, asleep. Don't leave me, even for an hour, because then The little drops of anguish will all run together, The smoke that roams looking for a home will drift Into me, choking my lost heart. Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve On the beach, may your eyelids never flutter Into the empty distance. Don't LEAVE me for A second, my dearest, because in that moment you'll Have gone so far I'll wander mazily Over all the earth, asking, will you Come back? Will you leave me here, dying?

0

anthony-2

Aug 14, 2017

Aug 14, 2017 at 11:33 AM UTC

Pablo Neruda

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair

Don't go far off, not even for a day Don't go far off, not even for a day, Because I don't know how to say it - a day is long And I will be waiting for you, as in An empty station when the trains are Parked off somewhere else, asleep. Don't leave me, even for an hour, because then The little drops of anguish will all run together, The smoke that roams looking for a home will drift Into me, choking my lost heart. Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve On the beach, may your eyelids never flutter Into the empty distance. Don't LEAVE me for A second, my dearest, because in that moment you'll Have gone so far I'll wander mazily Over all the earth, asking, will you Come back? Will you leave me here, dying?

17