beez2 - Hello Poetry

The water runs cold. My skin prickled with ice, bumpy and damp. Ill stand here, waiting. Letting this freeze run circles in my veins. Hugging my arteries in its frigid arms. The water is cold, Trickling thick streams down my back. Damp and alone. One of us will die here In this unwelcoming bite of December. And it will not be you, no, never you. I will die in this place. Cold, damp, and alone.

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Nov 11, 2025

Nov 11, 2025 at 3:24 PM UTC

My time of dying

The water runs cold. My skin prickled with ice, bumpy and damp. Ill stand here, waiting. Letting this freeze run circles in my veins. Hugging my arteries in its frigid arms. The water is cold, Trickling thick streams down my back. Damp and alone. One of us will die here In this unwelcoming bite of December. And it will not be you, no, never you. I will die in this place. Cold, damp, and alone.

14

Your name falls from my lips in hushed silence. A sacred prayer, whispered over and over against the throbbing pulse in your neck. A confessional hosted in the dark of your room. The sins of our lives tangling within each others bodies, Joining us together. The swallowing of each others essence, Leaps and bounds made in faith. A sacrifice of ourselves, leaving the most pure on the others lips. My body is your temple, in which you worship my every waking movement. And your name will become my gospel, a vow to be unwavering in the mass that is our bond.

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Nov 8, 2025

Nov 8, 2025 at 5:52 PM UTC

The Worship of Another

Your name falls from my lips in hushed silence. A sacred prayer, whispered over and over against the throbbing pulse in your neck. A confessional hosted in the dark of your room. The sins of our lives tangling within each others bodies, Joining us together. The swallowing of each others essence, Leaps and bounds made in faith. A sacrifice of ourselves, leaving the most pure on the others lips. My body is your temple, in which you worship my every waking movement. And your name will become my gospel, a vow to be unwavering in the mass that is our bond.

10

I find myself in mourning most days. The sun shines through my blinds like a cruel joke, the clouds float by with eased practice. I speak to my ceiling of my hopes, my dreams, my wishes. I tell it about what I wanted us to be, how I wanted us to last a lifetime. There is never an answer, not really. But as I sit, speaking to the stark white paint. An unfamiliar feeling rises within my chest. Something painted like hope, warm and soft. Why wait to feel the same emotions again when you can go on and feel new things youve never felt before. Maybe the suns warmth wont feel so cruel, anymore.

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Nov 7, 2025

Nov 7, 2025 at 3:39 PM UTC

The mourning

I find myself in mourning most days. The sun shines through my blinds like a cruel joke, the clouds float by with eased practice. I speak to my ceiling of my hopes, my dreams, my wishes. I tell it about what I wanted us to be, how I wanted us to last a lifetime. There is never an answer, not really. But as I sit, speaking to the stark white paint. An unfamiliar feeling rises within my chest. Something painted like hope, warm and soft. Why wait to feel the same emotions again when you can go on and feel new things youve never felt before. Maybe the suns warmth wont feel so cruel, anymore.

13

We may not have matching tattoos, or glimmering rings. We may not have a creation of our own DNA, or a law bound sacred oath. But your name is etched upon my blood cells. Our love, permanently scarred onto my skin. The secrets I will carry, forever stuck in a thick layer. The scar of you, I will always carry.

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Nov 7, 2025

Nov 7, 2025 at 11:33 AM UTC

The scar from your exhaust

We may not have matching tattoos, or glimmering rings. We may not have a creation of our own DNA, or a law bound sacred oath. But your name is etched upon my blood cells. Our love, permanently scarred onto my skin. The secrets I will carry, forever stuck in a thick layer. The scar of you, I will always carry.

8

There are certain songs that bring in the flood of memories. Times where the stars shone beautifully, but not as beautiful as me. Times where the waves clapped against the shore in perfect harmony, but not as perfect as my voice. These songs, these memories, these compliments. They rest in the curve of my ribcage, in the ***** of my cheeks, in the smooth skin covering my shoulders. They sit, untouched and unfaded. Until these songs play. Until this settlement is disturbed from its peaceful slumber. And all of a sudden Im back under the stars, At the shore of the beach, At the waterfall we swore would flood. Im still here, always. As long as the song plays.

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Nov 5, 2025

Nov 5, 2025 at 1:19 PM UTC

First Date Conversations

There are certain songs that bring in the flood of memories. Times where the stars shone beautifully, but not as beautiful as me. Times where the waves clapped against the shore in perfect harmony, but not as perfect as my voice. These songs, these memories, these compliments. They rest in the curve of my ribcage, in the ***** of my cheeks, in the smooth skin covering my shoulders. They sit, untouched and unfaded. Until these songs play. Until this settlement is disturbed from its peaceful slumber. And all of a sudden Im back under the stars, At the shore of the beach, At the waterfall we swore would flood. Im still here, always. As long as the song plays.

16

The candles atop my cake sparkled tonight. They listened carefully as my thoughts and prayers traveled through their wicks and turned into a heated blaze. A burning thirst. My whispered silence was suffocating. The flames dwindling and flickering under the weight of it all. The stifling burden of a birthday wish, that will go ungranted. I piled my hopes and dreams onto those flickering flames. Shoving my desire and longing into their wax, forcing it down. I know it is bad luck to speak of your wishes after youve made them, but tonight I will. Deep within those candles and the smoke that followed, there was a whispered prayer. One for you. One for us. A wish for you to come back.

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Oct 18, 2025

Oct 18, 2025 at 1:07 AM UTC

My Birthday Wish.

The candles atop my cake sparkled tonight. They listened carefully as my thoughts and prayers traveled through their wicks and turned into a heated blaze. A burning thirst. My whispered silence was suffocating. The flames dwindling and flickering under the weight of it all. The stifling burden of a birthday wish, that will go ungranted. I piled my hopes and dreams onto those flickering flames. Shoving my desire and longing into their wax, forcing it down. I know it is bad luck to speak of your wishes after youve made them, but tonight I will. Deep within those candles and the smoke that followed, there was a whispered prayer. One for you. One for us. A wish for you to come back.

15

The love I have for you will have to wither and rot alongside my body. Nothing will ever rip this feeling from me, not even the act of leaving. You are my final, forever. Unfortunately.

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Sep 27, 2025

Sep 27, 2025 at 11:13 AM UTC

He left again and my chest hurts

The love I have for you will have to wither and rot alongside my body. Nothing will ever rip this feeling from me, not even the act of leaving. You are my final, forever. Unfortunately.

4

I can lay awake at night, screaming for salvation. Pleading with a lord that has never once lent me a helping hand. I can pray, I can hope, I can wish. God has never been my savior. He watched me suffer in silence and still he never spoke. My skin burns, and im scared he may be my only chance. Pitiful God. Pitiful me.

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Apr 24, 2025

Apr 24, 2025 at 9:42 PM UTC

God has never been my savior

I can lay awake at night, screaming for salvation. Pleading with a lord that has never once lent me a helping hand. I can pray, I can hope, I can wish. God has never been my savior. He watched me suffer in silence and still he never spoke. My skin burns, and im scared he may be my only chance. Pitiful God. Pitiful me.

8

Your absence grows stronger with each passing day. My heart aches.

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Apr 21, 2025

Apr 21, 2025 at 12:48 AM UTC

The knowledge of a missing piece.