ella-fields - Hello Poetry

I won't even give you the satisfaction, I won't let you ruin my night It's my ******* right To be happy. It was your mistake Your loss Don't think you can come back around Just to say "hi" **** you. *******

0

Jul 19, 2013

Jul 19, 2013 at 10:49 PM UTC

ella-fields

I won't even.

I won't even give you the satisfaction, I won't let you ruin my night It's my ******* right To be happy. It was your mistake Your loss Don't think you can come back around Just to say "hi" **** you. *******

10

Alabama, you’ve got some bad memories for me. Not because I’ve been there, because I haven’t, Because where he’s from, he lived there with you, you see. He brings me joy and pain and love and hate, And you remind me of him, and it’s nothing against you, really, I try not to discriminate, but it’s really hard, When this boy really broke my heart.

0

Jul 4, 2013

Jul 4, 2013 at 11:27 PM UTC

ella-fields

U.S.Awkward: Alabama

Alabama, you’ve got some bad memories for me. Not because I’ve been there, because I haven’t, Because where he’s from, he lived there with you, you see. He brings me joy and pain and love and hate, And you remind me of him, and it’s nothing against you, really, I try not to discriminate, but it’s really hard, When this boy really broke my heart.

7

I'm happiest when you're here. And I'm devastated when you're not. Wrapped in your arms, I have no fear. I'm home. Without you, I feel cold and alone. Do you feel the same? Does your tongue tingle when you say my name? My stomach ties itself tight. And the butterflies that are trapped begin to fight. I could love you through the night and all day. I wish you could stay. Stay here with me. That would be the dream. You and I, Living the rest of our days, Knowing that there will never be another love like ours.

0

Jul 3, 2013

Jul 3, 2013 at 11:58 PM UTC

ella-fields

Untitled

I'm happiest when you're here. And I'm devastated when you're not. Wrapped in your arms, I have no fear. I'm home. Without you, I feel cold and alone. Do you feel the same? Does your tongue tingle when you say my name? My stomach ties itself tight. And the butterflies that are trapped begin to fight. I could love you through the night and all day. I wish you could stay. Stay here with me. That would be the dream. You and I, Living the rest of our days, Knowing that there will never be another love like ours.

16

is thIs what hell looks like? is this what heaven feels like? and the laSt time i kissed you, it was sad. and the last i Touched you, it was out of spite. he's asking questIons about me, things i don't even know. and your happiness Lovingly attributes to my lame misery. but i don't think i'm realLy not so heartbroken as i may have first thought. i'm a thief of religion, he doesn't beLieve in me after all. a handsome, lonesOme crusader of the high seas. and i trust you'll be leaVing rather soon, like you always do. and i trust you'll be leaving mE rather soon, just like you used to do. my thoughts aren't voiced my prayers left unanswered. he says he can love me. but love who exactly? can he love me more than i loved YOU?

0

Jul 3, 2013

Jul 3, 2013 at 2:22 PM UTC

ella-fields

It's a secret.

is thIs what hell looks like? is this what heaven feels like? and the laSt time i kissed you, it was sad. and the last i Touched you, it was out of spite. he's asking questIons about me, things i don't even know. and your happiness Lovingly attributes to my lame misery. but i don't think i'm realLy not so heartbroken as i may have first thought. i'm a thief of religion, he doesn't beLieve in me after all. a handsome, lonesOme crusader of the high seas. and i trust you'll be leaVing rather soon, like you always do. and i trust you'll be leaving mE rather soon, just like you used to do. my thoughts aren't voiced my prayers left unanswered. he says he can love me. but love who exactly? can he love me more than i loved YOU?

17

So, I wanna try something. I know this is a poetry website, but I have been writing this story. I stopped for many reasons such as being too busy, not inspired, not sure if it was good enough or not, etc. So I wanna post just a part of it, just to see if anyone will like it. Just to see if it's worth it to continue it. It's called The Sweet Pea, Honey Bee Kiss. I tried not to regret the decisions I had made thus far, so the decision to pack my things and leave San Francisco was my own. I said not a word to anyone—not that anyone cared—and left on a rather depressing Wednesday morning. Leaving was not as hard as I thought it would be, rather, it was easier than well...me. There was an empty feeling in my stomach as I left, a sense of worry and depression lingering, but I refused to let the tears fall. So he didn’t turn out the way I wanted him to. That was fine, I suppose.... But who was I kidding? I thought he was the guy...the perfect guy. I didn’t know he could be so cruel, so detached and so...so much like every other **** there was at high school. Not all guys were bad, I knew that I wouldn’t succumb to blaming every breathing human being with a ***** I just knew now that Tristan Booker was an evil son-of-a-bitch and I was a complete idiot for thinking that he could ever like someone like me. Watching him turn his back away from me—away from the possibilities that could eventually be us—it crushed me. I had never felt so alone in a world filled with people—people who may have experienced the same thing I was going through or at least experienced heartache and heartbreak. I felt so emotionless. I couldn't find it in myself to cry, a cry that I so desperately needed, so desperately wanted. I could go my whole life blaming every guy that was a “Tristan”, I could go on with my life and succumb to the whispers and disappointment that pressed itself against me until one day it wouldn’t matter so much anymore. I could fight back; defend the dignity that was left behind and on life-support. But I did what any rational and distressed human being would do: I ran away. I hid in a tower much like how a Disney princess would, but then I remembered Cinderella was never called a ***** I know it's long. Please bear with me and like/comment it honestly. Thank you so much!!

0

Jun 18, 2013

Jun 18, 2013 at 11:16 PM UTC

ella-fields

Just a Test

So, I wanna try something. I know this is a poetry website, but I have been writing this story. I stopped for many reasons such as being too busy, not inspired, not sure if it was good enough or not, etc. So I wanna post just a part of it, just to see if anyone will like it. Just to see if it's worth it to continue it. It's called The Sweet Pea, Honey Bee Kiss. I tried not to regret the decisions I had made thus far, so the decision to pack my things and leave San Francisco was my own. I said not a word to anyone—not that anyone cared—and left on a rather depressing Wednesday morning. Leaving was not as hard as I thought it would be, rather, it was easier than well...me. There was an empty feeling in my stomach as I left, a sense of worry and depression lingering, but I refused to let the tears fall. So he didn’t turn out the way I wanted him to. That was fine, I suppose.... But who was I kidding? I thought he was the guy...the perfect guy. I didn’t know he could be so cruel, so detached and so...so much like every other **** there was at high school. Not all guys were bad, I knew that I wouldn’t succumb to blaming every breathing human being with a ***** I just knew now that Tristan Booker was an evil son-of-a-bitch and I was a complete idiot for thinking that he could ever like someone like me. Watching him turn his back away from me—away from the possibilities that could eventually be us—it crushed me. I had never felt so alone in a world filled with people—people who may have experienced the same thing I was going through or at least experienced heartache and heartbreak. I felt so emotionless. I couldn't find it in myself to cry, a cry that I so desperately needed, so desperately wanted. I could go my whole life blaming every guy that was a “Tristan”, I could go on with my life and succumb to the whispers and disappointment that pressed itself against me until one day it wouldn’t matter so much anymore. I could fight back; defend the dignity that was left behind and on life-support. But I did what any rational and distressed human being would do: I ran away. I hid in a tower much like how a Disney princess would, but then I remembered Cinderella was never called a ***** I know it's long. Please bear with me and like/comment it honestly. Thank you so much!!

6

She's so thin. She's so nice. She could really light up a room with that grin. Her blue eyes sparkle when she cries. Her hair is like silk, woven, from a spider of golden. And her skin is soft and pure like milk. I'm not jealous. Far from it, actually. I have no reason to be. I'm thin. I'm nice. My laugh can fill a room, it's so loud, and I'm not afraid to fight. My hair is red and gold and brown. She's blond and beautiful. That's just who she is. So I shouldn't be jealous. And I'm not. It's just, I'm surrounded by blond and beautiful, the brunette feels out of place. When those Blond and Beautiful shine so bright, It hurts my eyes and I hide my face. I'm the odd man out. But that's okay. Cause I'm Brunette and Beautiful, Or so I assume.

0

Jun 17, 2013

Jun 17, 2013 at 10:33 PM UTC

ella-fields

Blond and Beautiful

She's so thin. She's so nice. She could really light up a room with that grin. Her blue eyes sparkle when she cries. Her hair is like silk, woven, from a spider of golden. And her skin is soft and pure like milk. I'm not jealous. Far from it, actually. I have no reason to be. I'm thin. I'm nice. My laugh can fill a room, it's so loud, and I'm not afraid to fight. My hair is red and gold and brown. She's blond and beautiful. That's just who she is. So I shouldn't be jealous. And I'm not. It's just, I'm surrounded by blond and beautiful, the brunette feels out of place. When those Blond and Beautiful shine so bright, It hurts my eyes and I hide my face. I'm the odd man out. But that's okay. Cause I'm Brunette and Beautiful, Or so I assume.

28

i must have been a real bother. a real pain in the-- ask me a question about who you were, what your dreams and goals and accomplishments were made of. i knew what you were made of. you were 70% hydrogen, 28% helium, .1% carbon dioxide, .95768524% stellar, and the remaining .94231476% is something i haven't even discovered yet. you shine so bright, people go blind, your radiation is so toxic, people die. baby, you're a star. and i'm a girl staring out her window, wishing upon a star, wishing upon you, and my demands are so heavy you begin to fall. like a firefly, caught in a jar. i want you to sing for me, dance for me, shine bright for me. fight harder. cry harder. try harder. try! try for me! please? .... i must have been so terrible. just thinking about it now. i've realized how horrible is must of been. i hear it in your voice now. i see it in the way you walk. don't fight anymore. don't cry anymore. don't try anymore. you don't have to try anymore. she'll try for you. she'll cry for you. and i'm glad for you. forget me, will you? don't think of me. don't remember us, and what we used to be. don't try anymore. because you don't have to. remember to shine bright. like you usually do.

0

Jun 7, 2013

Jun 7, 2013 at 10:54 PM UTC

ella-fields

try.

i must have been a real bother. a real pain in the-- ask me a question about who you were, what your dreams and goals and accomplishments were made of. i knew what you were made of. you were 70% hydrogen, 28% helium, .1% carbon dioxide, .95768524% stellar, and the remaining .94231476% is something i haven't even discovered yet. you shine so bright, people go blind, your radiation is so toxic, people die. baby, you're a star. and i'm a girl staring out her window, wishing upon a star, wishing upon you, and my demands are so heavy you begin to fall. like a firefly, caught in a jar. i want you to sing for me, dance for me, shine bright for me. fight harder. cry harder. try harder. try! try for me! please? .... i must have been so terrible. just thinking about it now. i've realized how horrible is must of been. i hear it in your voice now. i see it in the way you walk. don't fight anymore. don't cry anymore. don't try anymore. you don't have to try anymore. she'll try for you. she'll cry for you. and i'm glad for you. forget me, will you? don't think of me. don't remember us, and what we used to be. don't try anymore. because you don't have to. remember to shine bright. like you usually do.

40

Remember the war. You remember the war of 1994? When you struggled with yourself, And left your dreams in a jar on a shelf Collecting dust and grime Stuck in a corner in the back on the right. Remember when you fought yourself? Trying to decide whether or not you needed help. Trying to decide who you loved more You or him, the terrible war of 1994. Remember the war Blood and gore Spread across your face like war paint And you screamed out your battle cry For hours on until day became night His words like bullets hitting your chest Spitting out nails to conquer what was left Both sides tried their best To win something that was never really addressed Blackmailing each other with things that were never confessed. What a mess, The war of 1994.

0

Jun 7, 2013

Jun 7, 2013 at 10:32 PM UTC

ella-fields

War

Remember the war. You remember the war of 1994? When you struggled with yourself, And left your dreams in a jar on a shelf Collecting dust and grime Stuck in a corner in the back on the right. Remember when you fought yourself? Trying to decide whether or not you needed help. Trying to decide who you loved more You or him, the terrible war of 1994. Remember the war Blood and gore Spread across your face like war paint And you screamed out your battle cry For hours on until day became night His words like bullets hitting your chest Spitting out nails to conquer what was left Both sides tried their best To win something that was never really addressed Blackmailing each other with things that were never confessed. What a mess, The war of 1994.

23

Lazy Waves Sunny Dazes The Sight Of You Still Amazes-- God, You're Amazing. You're Crazy, You Big Baby, Those Nights Are Hazy Of Snow Cones And Karate Kid And Sitting On Your Roof Alone Hide And Go Seek In The Dark Tagging Your Car While You Were With The Boys Talking And Crying For Hours With The Car On Park But That's What It's All About, It's Where We Go Or What We Do, Whether We're Quiet Or Loud It's About How Much Love We Have Or How Many Times We Fight Count All The Laughs And The Sleepless Summertime Nights Cause In The End, When This Is All Said And Done And We're No Longer Lovers, No Longer Friends, And Winter Comes, That's All I'll Have To Remember You By, All Those Summertime Nights.

0

May 28, 2013

May 28, 2013 at 10:31 PM UTC

ella-fields

Summertime Nights

Lazy Waves Sunny Dazes The Sight Of You Still Amazes-- God, You're Amazing. You're Crazy, You Big Baby, Those Nights Are Hazy Of Snow Cones And Karate Kid And Sitting On Your Roof Alone Hide And Go Seek In The Dark Tagging Your Car While You Were With The Boys Talking And Crying For Hours With The Car On Park But That's What It's All About, It's Where We Go Or What We Do, Whether We're Quiet Or Loud It's About How Much Love We Have Or How Many Times We Fight Count All The Laughs And The Sleepless Summertime Nights Cause In The End, When This Is All Said And Done And We're No Longer Lovers, No Longer Friends, And Winter Comes, That's All I'll Have To Remember You By, All Those Summertime Nights.

27

Oh Dear God, Holy Deity, My Virginity, I Lost In The Back Seat Of Forever I Was On The Ninth Cloud Back Flat On My Suede Couch With The Volume Down Low, Watching Some Cartoon Show, We Were Kids Back Then. Fifteen, With Large Dreams, Our Future Looking Bright Baby, It Just Felt Right On that Night December Eleventh, Didja Even Mean It, Darling? These Old Salt Wounds Are Scarring.

0

May 28, 2013

May 28, 2013 at 10:13 PM UTC

ella-fields

My Virginity

Oh Dear God, Holy Deity, My Virginity, I Lost In The Back Seat Of Forever I Was On The Ninth Cloud Back Flat On My Suede Couch With The Volume Down Low, Watching Some Cartoon Show, We Were Kids Back Then. Fifteen, With Large Dreams, Our Future Looking Bright Baby, It Just Felt Right On that Night December Eleventh, Didja Even Mean It, Darling? These Old Salt Wounds Are Scarring.

17