dana-taylor - Hello Poetry

I'm starting to forget what your touch feels like and that's something I want to remember long after this eternity. I want to forget how you made me feel inadequate and useless if you weren't touching me. I want to remember the feverish heat of your hungry body wrapping around me as if I could be consumed by the naked desire between us. But all I can remember is the coldness of your latest silent treatment leaving me frozen where I stand like the first ice cube eternally stuck to the bottom of the freezer tray never to be acknowledged as more than an inconvenient nuisance. I want to remember the sound of your earnestly endearing, carefree voice when you sang your silly little songs using names for me that no one else will ever use. I can't forget the thunderous, deafening finality of the last time I watched you close my door and walk away.

0

Apr 27, 2015

Apr 27, 2015 at 2:04 PM UTC

Sing Me a Silly Song

I'm starting to forget what your touch feels like and that's something I want to remember long after this eternity. I want to forget how you made me feel inadequate and useless if you weren't touching me. I want to remember the feverish heat of your hungry body wrapping around me as if I could be consumed by the naked desire between us. But all I can remember is the coldness of your latest silent treatment leaving me frozen where I stand like the first ice cube eternally stuck to the bottom of the freezer tray never to be acknowledged as more than an inconvenient nuisance. I want to remember the sound of your earnestly endearing, carefree voice when you sang your silly little songs using names for me that no one else will ever use. I can't forget the thunderous, deafening finality of the last time I watched you close my door and walk away.

3

I should be bawling my eyes out as I curl up in a little ball of despair under the softness of the red fuzzy blanket that used to be the softness under us. But I'm not. I should be trembling with the relentless red rage that can only come from the sting of the ultimate betrayal that so easily rolls off your forked tongue. But I'm not. I should be taking every fiber of every piece of yourself that you've left here on your clothes and shoes and whatever all that other crap is, and building a bonfire just to see how long it will burn. But I'm not. I should be hating you and vowing that I'll never speak to you again and imagining ways of inflicting any kind of pain on you that might make you feel even a fraction of the pain that you've inflicted on me. But I'm not. I should be deleting your electronic footprints from my phone, my laptop and my heart and retracing my steps back to the predictable but content life that was my life before you came and made unpredictable and discontented seem like the norm. But I'm not. I should promise myself that I'll start all that tomorrow. But I'm not.

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Dec 16, 2014

Dec 16, 2014 at 12:02 AM UTC

I'm Not Under the Red Fuzzy Blanket Yet

I should be bawling my eyes out as I curl up in a little ball of despair under the softness of the red fuzzy blanket that used to be the softness under us. But I'm not. I should be trembling with the relentless red rage that can only come from the sting of the ultimate betrayal that so easily rolls off your forked tongue. But I'm not. I should be taking every fiber of every piece of yourself that you've left here on your clothes and shoes and whatever all that other crap is, and building a bonfire just to see how long it will burn. But I'm not. I should be hating you and vowing that I'll never speak to you again and imagining ways of inflicting any kind of pain on you that might make you feel even a fraction of the pain that you've inflicted on me. But I'm not. I should be deleting your electronic footprints from my phone, my laptop and my heart and retracing my steps back to the predictable but content life that was my life before you came and made unpredictable and discontented seem like the norm. But I'm not. I should promise myself that I'll start all that tomorrow. But I'm not.

6

Doing nothing at all but trying to **** time With my imaginary people, places, and things to see No logic, no order, no reason, or rhyme Just the realization that it's time that's killing me They say time marches on but where's it marching to Stop marching on me and just let me rest Why not just pick me up and take me with you I've given you my all, I gave you my best I never begin these trips by myself But I always end up on this road alone They take the fork to the right while I take the left Struggling again to find my way home Always someone I wish would stay until the end So many unmapped roads I still want to travel Either too far ahead or too far behind I seem to lose sight at the second or third bend Is it me or just my plans that can't help but unravel Is this the end of one trip or the start of another After speeding down this same old winding road It's hard to distinguish one from the other Just show me the road that leads back to my children, my brother, my lover and my mother

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Sep 3, 2014

Sep 3, 2014 at 3:33 PM UTC

Just Another Road Trip

Doing nothing at all but trying to **** time With my imaginary people, places, and things to see No logic, no order, no reason, or rhyme Just the realization that it's time that's killing me They say time marches on but where's it marching to Stop marching on me and just let me rest Why not just pick me up and take me with you I've given you my all, I gave you my best I never begin these trips by myself But I always end up on this road alone They take the fork to the right while I take the left Struggling again to find my way home Always someone I wish would stay until the end So many unmapped roads I still want to travel Either too far ahead or too far behind I seem to lose sight at the second or third bend Is it me or just my plans that can't help but unravel Is this the end of one trip or the start of another After speeding down this same old winding road It's hard to distinguish one from the other Just show me the road that leads back to my children, my brother, my lover and my mother

21

How do you know when enough is enough I can't take anymore, I'm just not that tough I've tried to be all that you said I should be But that didn't leave room for me just to be me I'm losing my grip on all that I know One little slip and I'll go down with the flow Hanging on any tighter just makes it more tense I don't know how much longer I can straddle this fence There's only two ways now for this ride to go Neither of which I'm particularly fond So I patiently sit here but frantically row Rowing in circles on this dark, boggy pond Will someone please stop and throw me a line Can't anyone see that I'm about to drown Don't you understand that I'm running out of time Will it finally be enough when I'm all the way down

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Sep 3, 2014

Sep 3, 2014 at 3:05 PM UTC

Rowing in Circles

How do you know when enough is enough I can't take anymore, I'm just not that tough I've tried to be all that you said I should be But that didn't leave room for me just to be me I'm losing my grip on all that I know One little slip and I'll go down with the flow Hanging on any tighter just makes it more tense I don't know how much longer I can straddle this fence There's only two ways now for this ride to go Neither of which I'm particularly fond So I patiently sit here but frantically row Rowing in circles on this dark, boggy pond Will someone please stop and throw me a line Can't anyone see that I'm about to drown Don't you understand that I'm running out of time Will it finally be enough when I'm all the way down

16

You rushed in like a quarterback carrying the ball Like a rookie I fell for the fake play Hook, line, and sinker, I foolishly bought it all It seemed like a game that started out fair Fans all abuzz claiming "This is our year!" Now the bleachers stand empty, not a soul left to cheer Nothing left but to turn off the stadium lights On a field that was once so hopeful and bright Off to the locker rooms both teams retreat One to lick their wounds as the other celebrates the championship repeat In glory you'll go on to play for more teams While this career-ending injury is killing my dreams

0

Sep 3, 2014

Sep 3, 2014 at 2:50 PM UTC

The Quarterback Sneak

You rushed in like a quarterback carrying the ball Like a rookie I fell for the fake play Hook, line, and sinker, I foolishly bought it all It seemed like a game that started out fair Fans all abuzz claiming "This is our year!" Now the bleachers stand empty, not a soul left to cheer Nothing left but to turn off the stadium lights On a field that was once so hopeful and bright Off to the locker rooms both teams retreat One to lick their wounds as the other celebrates the championship repeat In glory you'll go on to play for more teams While this career-ending injury is killing my dreams

12

Like a naked tree in winter, I wait for the sunshine of spring Existing but not flourishing Living but not growing Vulnerable but standing tall Finally his sunlight appears and my withered branches reach for it Trying to soak up all the sun at once Finally his refreshing rain appears to quench my thirst If you watch closely you can see my rejuvenation from the inside out And then fall comes I know it's coming, he has to go again And winter sets in Leaving me naked and vulnerable I can only stand where I was placed I can't go to him Only he can bring the changing of the seasons to me My day is like the never-ending changing of the seasons Fall, I know he's leaving soon Winter, that cold few moments when I realize he's gone Spring, I hope he brings me sunshine and renewal Summer, his sun appears and brightens my face

0

Sep 3, 2014

Sep 3, 2014 at 1:15 PM UTC

A Year in the Life of a Tree

Like a naked tree in winter, I wait for the sunshine of spring Existing but not flourishing Living but not growing Vulnerable but standing tall Finally his sunlight appears and my withered branches reach for it Trying to soak up all the sun at once Finally his refreshing rain appears to quench my thirst If you watch closely you can see my rejuvenation from the inside out And then fall comes I know it's coming, he has to go again And winter sets in Leaving me naked and vulnerable I can only stand where I was placed I can't go to him Only he can bring the changing of the seasons to me My day is like the never-ending changing of the seasons Fall, I know he's leaving soon Winter, that cold few moments when I realize he's gone Spring, I hope he brings me sunshine and renewal Summer, his sun appears and brightens my face

20

The last thing I ever expected He asked me to be his girlfriend I said yes Do either of us know how to be a girlfriend and a boyfriend Or does that even matter I'm a secret of the night He sneaks out of someplace after dark to sneak into me He sneaks out of me at daylight and sneaks back to someplace else How long will I or can I be a secret of the night That's a secret he keeps from me

0

Sep 3, 2014

Sep 3, 2014 at 1:03 PM UTC

I'm a Secret

The last thing I ever expected He asked me to be his girlfriend I said yes Do either of us know how to be a girlfriend and a boyfriend Or does that even matter I'm a secret of the night He sneaks out of someplace after dark to sneak into me He sneaks out of me at daylight and sneaks back to someplace else How long will I or can I be a secret of the night That's a secret he keeps from me

10

The hardest part of my day Watching him get up, get dressed, and go He says he'll be back I want to believe him I really want to believe him I hate that I really want to believe him So far he's always come back The best part of my day Will he ever not have to get up, get dressed, and go I hope so Is he selling me a beautiful pack of lies I hope not What will it be like when he doesn't have to go Even more exciting than it is now I hope so For now though The second hardest part of my day Wondering if he'll be back

0

Sep 3, 2014

Sep 3, 2014 at 12:55 PM UTC

Will He Be Back

The hardest part of my day Watching him get up, get dressed, and go He says he'll be back I want to believe him I really want to believe him I hate that I really want to believe him So far he's always come back The best part of my day Will he ever not have to get up, get dressed, and go I hope so Is he selling me a beautiful pack of lies I hope not What will it be like when he doesn't have to go Even more exciting than it is now I hope so For now though The second hardest part of my day Wondering if he'll be back

18

Words can't express the emptiness that is hopelessness. It's something that you wouldn't wish upon your worst enemy's worst enemy. Wait, your worst enemy's worst enemy would probably be a really good friend to have. Then you could sit around together and plot ways to **** with your common enemy's head. Like sneaking into their house every day and emptying all the bottles of shampoo. Not the conditioner. Not the body wash or shower gel. Just the shampoo. Every day. Every bottle. No matter how many bottles they buy to replace the ones you've wasted. All the shampoo gone. Just gone. Every day. Try and imagine what lengths they would go to trying to find out what happened to all the **** shampoo. Four empty bottles sitting right where they'd been placed when they were full, now without a drop of hope of being able to wash, rinse, and repeat. No hope of being able to lather up and wash away the built-up residue of the day's grimy, polluted, filth infested air breathed out by the uncaring populous that attached itself from the follicle to the unsplit end of every perfectly thick and just right wavy hair on your worst enemy's head. Maybe they'll lose sleep over it and then have dark rings around the bulbous bags under their usually twinkling and happy hazel eyes for a day or two. All the time just wondering what in the hell happened to all the **** shampoo. Anyway, if you can't find the words to express hopelessness, at least maybe you can find someone with a common enemy to sit around with and think of ways to try and fill the emptiness.

0

Aug 23, 2014

Aug 23, 2014 at 10:56 PM UTC

Common Enemy

Words can't express the emptiness that is hopelessness. It's something that you wouldn't wish upon your worst enemy's worst enemy. Wait, your worst enemy's worst enemy would probably be a really good friend to have. Then you could sit around together and plot ways to **** with your common enemy's head. Like sneaking into their house every day and emptying all the bottles of shampoo. Not the conditioner. Not the body wash or shower gel. Just the shampoo. Every day. Every bottle. No matter how many bottles they buy to replace the ones you've wasted. All the shampoo gone. Just gone. Every day. Try and imagine what lengths they would go to trying to find out what happened to all the **** shampoo. Four empty bottles sitting right where they'd been placed when they were full, now without a drop of hope of being able to wash, rinse, and repeat. No hope of being able to lather up and wash away the built-up residue of the day's grimy, polluted, filth infested air breathed out by the uncaring populous that attached itself from the follicle to the unsplit end of every perfectly thick and just right wavy hair on your worst enemy's head. Maybe they'll lose sleep over it and then have dark rings around the bulbous bags under their usually twinkling and happy hazel eyes for a day or two. All the time just wondering what in the hell happened to all the **** shampoo. Anyway, if you can't find the words to express hopelessness, at least maybe you can find someone with a common enemy to sit around with and think of ways to try and fill the emptiness.

7

You take me by the hand and lead me to the edge of ecstasy. But you don't just push me over. That would be too easy. You convince me to j u m p with the promise that you'll be there to catch me. By the time I crash to the ground you're l o n g gone.

0

Aug 23, 2014

Aug 23, 2014 at 9:20 AM UTC

Edge of Ecstasy

You take me by the hand and lead me to the edge of ecstasy. But you don't just push me over. That would be too easy. You convince me to j u m p with the promise that you'll be there to catch me. By the time I crash to the ground you're l o n g gone.

13