These memories are like wounds,
and even though they are old they still feel fresh.
You never said you were sorry,
you never stitched up my gashes,
so every time I am reminded of them,
they start to bleed again.
In flashes I watch them, the memories,
like old-time movies on cinema screens,
in black and white, so monochrome,
the least my mind can do,
at least spare me from the colorful detail.
I am trapped in that theater,
forced to watch through ocean waves,
until a boy comes with a golden key to unlock the doors.
His smile comforts me,
covers up my cuts like bandages.
His voice, my morphine,
makes the pain fade.
But like every medication, the relief wears off,
the boy disappears,
and I am alone again.
Left to wonder when the delicate dressings will rip,
and when the blood will pour down my chest,
infinitely.
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 10:12 PM UTC
cigarettes and guns both have the power to **** you
the difference is some people prefer to die slowly
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 9:40 PM UTC
shout
into the empty abyss
cry
onto a nonexistent shoulder
scream
to the distant shadows
roar
at your lonely pair of ears
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 9:29 PM UTC
when I see a child
walking hand-in-hand
with two parents
when I see seats
filled at a school concert
with two parents
when I see dinner
in front of my friend
with two parents
when I remember that
I am not as lucky as those
with two parents.
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 9:23 PM UTC
Too many people have this mentality that if you talk about your problems, you're weak.
Opening up just means your strong enough to face things that are hard, and fix them.
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 2:43 PM UTC
You inspire me.
The way your words send chills down my spine.
And how your undying love can be felt from across the world.
The way you listen attentively, no matter how meaningless my sentences are.
And how you support me with even the smallest of gestures.
A woman nor a man can inspire me as much as you do.
You, the people of Hello Poetry.
You inspire me.
Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 8:00 PM UTC
Tonight this pen is heavy with all the things I have yet to write.
Stories whose inspiration came long ago.
Poems from memories I can hardly remember.
Essays I have not been assigned.
Lyrics that I tried so hard to rhyme.
Letters filled with words of love and affection.
Tonight this pen is too heavy to write all the things I have yet to write.
Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 7:36 PM UTC
I can hear the shadows whispering.
"Come back, come back." they plead.
I keep my face towards the sun.
I won't go back.
I can feel the shadows tugging.
Pulling on my every emotion, closer, closer.
I keep my face towards the sun.
I won't go back.
I can see the shadows following.
Waiting, waiting, for me to break.
I keep my face towards the sun.
I won't go back.
They will never leave me, and that's okay.
I've learned how to fight it, and I promised myself.
I won't go back.
Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 10:30 PM UTC
underneath your skin is a human
same as me
same as her
same as him
same as us
treat them like it.
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 12:25 AM UTC
we search for freedom from this meaningless life.
liberation from our suffering.
deliverance from the pain that is humankind.
we use home remedies like alcohol,
drugs,
suicide.
we are too busy chasing this imaginary concept,
that we do not realize we, and we alone, create freedom.
we just have to let ourselves be free.
Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 11:44 PM UTC