giyannaloman - Hello Poetry

what slowly keeps growing every day, other than a desire that never sees the light of day? perhaps regret: threaded to spine and breath, softly spoken, yet prickier than death. the memory of a voice never held, and still echoing when I pray. the weight of things we never say deeply planted, roots crawling in quiet dismay. the ache that traces those nights folded between my thighs... a phantom heat beneath the silk, curls like smoke, but tastes like milk.

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Sep 22, 2025

Sep 22, 2025 at 3:09 AM UTC

The Epitome of Want

what slowly keeps growing every day, other than a desire that never sees the light of day? perhaps regret: threaded to spine and breath, softly spoken, yet prickier than death. the memory of a voice never held, and still echoing when I pray. the weight of things we never say deeply planted, roots crawling in quiet dismay. the ache that traces those nights folded between my thighs... a phantom heat beneath the silk, curls like smoke, but tastes like milk.

12

One blow of the wind is a mirror that doesn’t reflect, the other a glass sky waiting to shatter. Somewhere between the two, I float— not falling, just remembering how light once fractured into the warmth of your voice.

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Aug 15, 2025

Aug 15, 2025 at 9:02 AM UTC

Sky Memory

One blow of the wind is a mirror that doesn’t reflect, the other a glass sky waiting to shatter. Somewhere between the two, I float— not falling, just remembering how light once fractured into the warmth of your voice.

10

I cry, but— not all day and not every day. Joy fleets, though not all day and not every day. You haunt me—ever so often, but not all day and not every day. I fight and love, not all day and not every day. Her words sting, but not all day and not every day. I care for myself, however not all day, not every day. He becomes my shadow, although not all day, and not every day. The pain evaporates not all day, but fading every day. They dismiss me—that's fine, I rise without them, every day. I hold me kinder, a little more—every day. Somehow, the light finds me! My soul unbroken my gratitude deepens. The sun shines, not all day, but every day. I am blessed, all day, and every day.

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Aug 15, 2025

Aug 15, 2025 at 9:00 AM UTC

Not All Day, Not Every Day

I cry, but— not all day and not every day. Joy fleets, though not all day and not every day. You haunt me—ever so often, but not all day and not every day. I fight and love, not all day and not every day. Her words sting, but not all day and not every day. I care for myself, however not all day, not every day. He becomes my shadow, although not all day, and not every day. The pain evaporates not all day, but fading every day. They dismiss me—that's fine, I rise without them, every day. I hold me kinder, a little more—every day. Somehow, the light finds me! My soul unbroken my gratitude deepens. The sun shines, not all day, but every day. I am blessed, all day, and every day.

28

I once dreamt the mountain could speak— it called me by every name I've forgotten, braided moonlight into my throat, and left dew behind my tongue as proof I was ever kissed by something ancient. Now, when I weep, my tears birth a headwater stream. It flowed in red though the dream spun black and white the green leaves formed my suit, and the rolling stones my shoes as if gravity led me— and the valley summoned me home.

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Jul 4, 2025

Jul 4, 2025 at 1:07 PM UTC

Nature's Mirror

I once dreamt the mountain could speak— it called me by every name I've forgotten, braided moonlight into my throat, and left dew behind my tongue as proof I was ever kissed by something ancient. Now, when I weep, my tears birth a headwater stream. It flowed in red though the dream spun black and white the green leaves formed my suit, and the rolling stones my shoes as if gravity led me— and the valley summoned me home.

13

I swore I’d never fall in love. If I did, I lied it's just a crush, careless, I don't go crazy of it at all. I swore it would never stick But my heart now ticks with thoughts of you, and I've been sick with you ever since. A limerence is fleeting, they say. But loud as a debt unpaid. If ten years isn’t long, then what’s this fever? Why in my ribs your voice lingers? YOU— closer than my own pulse. Without you, I forget how to beat. If I’ve been sharper since you came, if I wake alert, cautious, if you’ve carved me into something better— then fine. Let it lie. Let it sneak in, let it crush me alive. I’ll keep pretending I don’t know its name.

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Jun 9, 2025

Jun 9, 2025 at 10:29 AM UTC

Limerence

I swore I’d never fall in love. If I did, I lied it's just a crush, careless, I don't go crazy of it at all. I swore it would never stick But my heart now ticks with thoughts of you, and I've been sick with you ever since. A limerence is fleeting, they say. But loud as a debt unpaid. If ten years isn’t long, then what’s this fever? Why in my ribs your voice lingers? YOU— closer than my own pulse. Without you, I forget how to beat. If I’ve been sharper since you came, if I wake alert, cautious, if you’ve carved me into something better— then fine. Let it lie. Let it sneak in, let it crush me alive. I’ll keep pretending I don’t know its name.

26

Oh, to be alone, to be complete, to touch the hush among the stars— not lost, not found, not obsolete, just held within that flashing spark. And so, the feeling carved its name in breaths, in bones, in sleepless nights— an untamed hunger, destined to remain, a calling softly hums and hard to fight.

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Jun 6, 2025

Jun 6, 2025 at 3:33 AM UTC

The Wolf to The Stars

Oh, to be alone, to be complete, to touch the hush among the stars— not lost, not found, not obsolete, just held within that flashing spark. And so, the feeling carved its name in breaths, in bones, in sleepless nights— an untamed hunger, destined to remain, a calling softly hums and hard to fight.

8

What storms quietly in that beautiful head? Something flares through the eyes, too proud to beg. Something exudes, fierce and elegant, it glows, it reigns—magnificent. Confidence that floods, leaves no trace, then shatters my soul in its silent embrace. Bear in mind the distance between us cruel and vast it aches, destroys the trust Must every hope just crumble into dust? From the start we were deemed unjust, ink like injuries, hearts crushed, our names written deep in plot rust.

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Jun 3, 2025

Jun 3, 2025 at 8:44 PM UTC

Us

What storms quietly in that beautiful head? Something flares through the eyes, too proud to beg. Something exudes, fierce and elegant, it glows, it reigns—magnificent. Confidence that floods, leaves no trace, then shatters my soul in its silent embrace. Bear in mind the distance between us cruel and vast it aches, destroys the trust Must every hope just crumble into dust? From the start we were deemed unjust, ink like injuries, hearts crushed, our names written deep in plot rust.

12

"This is what I get for listening too much." You're impossible to please— a fortress with no key. Tell me, how does it feel to be besieged? You don't just resist love, you resent it. Always. Strong on the outside, a mask everyone admires… But have you ever leaned in, just once, to breathe the warmth you crave? The kind of ease you cherish in dreams?

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Jun 1, 2025

Jun 1, 2025 at 9:29 AM UTC

Weighty

"This is what I get for listening too much." You're impossible to please— a fortress with no key. Tell me, how does it feel to be besieged? You don't just resist love, you resent it. Always. Strong on the outside, a mask everyone admires… But have you ever leaned in, just once, to breathe the warmth you crave? The kind of ease you cherish in dreams?

11

I wear sin like a second skin. You bite your tongue, but still give in. I taste like ruin of sins within Piece by piece—one sip, then you'd forget where I begin. People preach, say I’m unclean Their fingers burn when I peep on the screen. I let them beg, kiss their throats. Triple the layers of my rouge coats. Your vows collapse, you’re down on my lap. You want me? Say it raw! Stare in awe—at the grip of my claws. Choke on my name, then come back for more. You hate what you crave. I'm always an open door of the sweet strokes you dream and adore, a wound dressed in gold and aches to the core. Faithful as you pray, but you pray in my bed, calling me ***** while I cradle your head. Over and over, your soul would shred Over the devouring of me as your daily bread.

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May 11, 2025

May 11, 2025 at 11:06 AM UTC

Modern Day Jezebel

I wear sin like a second skin. You bite your tongue, but still give in. I taste like ruin of sins within Piece by piece—one sip, then you'd forget where I begin. People preach, say I’m unclean Their fingers burn when I peep on the screen. I let them beg, kiss their throats. Triple the layers of my rouge coats. Your vows collapse, you’re down on my lap. You want me? Say it raw! Stare in awe—at the grip of my claws. Choke on my name, then come back for more. You hate what you crave. I'm always an open door of the sweet strokes you dream and adore, a wound dressed in gold and aches to the core. Faithful as you pray, but you pray in my bed, calling me ***** while I cradle your head. Over and over, your soul would shred Over the devouring of me as your daily bread.

20

Lived quite a life No expectations Happiness is overrated Joy is needed, but where is it He would battle life in ways others couldn't see nor be New beats are always demanded A melody is needed, he is it Good isn't good enough Spoiled and you're forgotten The waves wash away the traces in the flat sand Not much sunlight, just a cold yesterday afternoon that struggles to welcome the night and darkness appears too soon (He's so naïve. It will come) Only he knows if he's lost or where to be found yet he's the cold yesterday afternoon that fights to stay warm He's too naïve, a soul in the storm a desire to shift and reborn yet bound by fate, rough and torn he lives to play and perform.

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Apr 19, 2025

Apr 19, 2025 at 2:19 AM UTC

The Musician

Lived quite a life No expectations Happiness is overrated Joy is needed, but where is it He would battle life in ways others couldn't see nor be New beats are always demanded A melody is needed, he is it Good isn't good enough Spoiled and you're forgotten The waves wash away the traces in the flat sand Not much sunlight, just a cold yesterday afternoon that struggles to welcome the night and darkness appears too soon (He's so naïve. It will come) Only he knows if he's lost or where to be found yet he's the cold yesterday afternoon that fights to stay warm He's too naïve, a soul in the storm a desire to shift and reborn yet bound by fate, rough and torn he lives to play and perform.

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