greyhat - Hello Poetry

i will place an onyx stone inside my chest swaddle my skull in soft cotton no longer to be disturbed by the hallucinations of the soul forevermore...

0

Aug 13, 2023

Aug 13, 2023 at 6:25 PM UTC

impact

i will place an onyx stone inside my chest swaddle my skull in soft cotton no longer to be disturbed by the hallucinations of the soul forevermore...

4

here we go again the feeling of not feeling the music without melody the poem without metre it all swims in my head devoid of emotion these stanzas, those paragraphs, those conversations, that knowledge they swirl and they shimmer but where has the tone gone those non-verbal shades just evaporate like water dickens, tolkien, tolstoy, plath mozart, sheeran, queen, presley van gogh, hirst, dalí, ito nothing but noise when your heart isn't in it now down some pills write it down go to sleep and repeat this tomorrow.

0

May 21, 2022

May 21, 2022 at 5:12 PM UTC

the plateau

here we go again the feeling of not feeling the music without melody the poem without metre it all swims in my head devoid of emotion these stanzas, those paragraphs, those conversations, that knowledge they swirl and they shimmer but where has the tone gone those non-verbal shades just evaporate like water dickens, tolkien, tolstoy, plath mozart, sheeran, queen, presley van gogh, hirst, dalí, ito nothing but noise when your heart isn't in it now down some pills write it down go to sleep and repeat this tomorrow.

16

will i be remembered? humbly i offer this forget-me-not keep it in your back pocket

0

Sep 9, 2020

Sep 9, 2020 at 8:30 PM UTC

on god?

will i be remembered? humbly i offer this forget-me-not keep it in your back pocket

3

the past is fading the future is grey i am condemned to live in the present slogging away exhausted too cowardly to pass on

0

Mar 29, 2020

Mar 29, 2020 at 10:34 PM UTC

limbo

the past is fading the future is grey i am condemned to live in the present slogging away exhausted too cowardly to pass on

6

we met at a gas station but our spark set the whole world on fire and after i was scorched and spent you doused yourself and slinked away like water

0

Dec 10, 2019

Dec 10, 2019 at 9:51 PM UTC

petrol bomb

we met at a gas station but our spark set the whole world on fire and after i was scorched and spent you doused yourself and slinked away like water

6

And there it is. The vengeance. Bubbling, broiling, red-hot rage buried below the surface. It feels like magma in the pit of my stomach. It bursts and breaks, a tsunami encompassing my Isle. No longer can I separate the self from the sea. No longer can I keep my head above the magma. No longer can I breathe my precious, stoic oxygen. It rears its ugly head and I, perhaps missing the monster, dive willingly, confidently into it. I hope you think of my lips when you kiss hers. I hope you see my chestnut brown in her sapphire blues. I hope you moan my name every time she tastes your nectar. Choke.

0

Mar 23, 2019

Mar 23, 2019 at 12:39 AM UTC

Drive off those bridges you've burned

And there it is. The vengeance. Bubbling, broiling, red-hot rage buried below the surface. It feels like magma in the pit of my stomach. It bursts and breaks, a tsunami encompassing my Isle. No longer can I separate the self from the sea. No longer can I keep my head above the magma. No longer can I breathe my precious, stoic oxygen. It rears its ugly head and I, perhaps missing the monster, dive willingly, confidently into it. I hope you think of my lips when you kiss hers. I hope you see my chestnut brown in her sapphire blues. I hope you moan my name every time she tastes your nectar. Choke.

8

I like to write in free verse, And my poems don't have much rhythm I don't know iambic pentameter And I don't really think about structure I change my metre rapidly Because I like to throw people off in Hopes that It'll make them think about What the words mean Instead of about the restrictions I often decide not to rhyme my words Because "love, my pure dove" is less genuine Than "love is my poison" Or "love is my jailer". I know I won't get high grades for my art, And I know I won't be very famous But I don't care about likes or biographies I care about writing my truth.

0

Mar 17, 2019

Mar 17, 2019 at 9:51 AM UTC

Free verse *****

I like to write in free verse, And my poems don't have much rhythm I don't know iambic pentameter And I don't really think about structure I change my metre rapidly Because I like to throw people off in Hopes that It'll make them think about What the words mean Instead of about the restrictions I often decide not to rhyme my words Because "love, my pure dove" is less genuine Than "love is my poison" Or "love is my jailer". I know I won't get high grades for my art, And I know I won't be very famous But I don't care about likes or biographies I care about writing my truth.

18

Dearest Skye, Hello. We haven't spoken in a long time. Forgive me. I isolate too much. I've been sick. I'm still sick. I'm going to be sick for a while. But that's okay. I have hope that it won't last forever. Eventually I'll find something that works. One day I'll leave this self-imposed quarantine. I apologise. I'm oversharing again. You always told me I did that too much. How have you been? Did you get that degree? Have you travelled to Japan like you said you would? Did you learn to play the drums? Have you fixed your relationship with your parents? Did you finally forgive them? Have you kept in contact with your sisters? Your school friends? And have you solidified your identity? It's hard. The hardest challenge I've ever faced. If I can't do it, you must. Or else you will be miserable for the rest of your life. But you must not close yourself off like before. You don't have to hide your emotions. To master them, you have to let them consume you and then climb out of the abyss. You're strong. You can do it. I believe in you. Write back to me. Let me know if you're happy. I hope, for both of our sakes, that you are. Sincerely, Skye.

0

Jan 6, 2019

Jan 6, 2019 at 10:02 PM UTC

Message in a bottle

Dearest Skye, Hello. We haven't spoken in a long time. Forgive me. I isolate too much. I've been sick. I'm still sick. I'm going to be sick for a while. But that's okay. I have hope that it won't last forever. Eventually I'll find something that works. One day I'll leave this self-imposed quarantine. I apologise. I'm oversharing again. You always told me I did that too much. How have you been? Did you get that degree? Have you travelled to Japan like you said you would? Did you learn to play the drums? Have you fixed your relationship with your parents? Did you finally forgive them? Have you kept in contact with your sisters? Your school friends? And have you solidified your identity? It's hard. The hardest challenge I've ever faced. If I can't do it, you must. Or else you will be miserable for the rest of your life. But you must not close yourself off like before. You don't have to hide your emotions. To master them, you have to let them consume you and then climb out of the abyss. You're strong. You can do it. I believe in you. Write back to me. Let me know if you're happy. I hope, for both of our sakes, that you are. Sincerely, Skye.

15

thaw my soul, moonshine tease the fervor from my veins ignite my spent wick

0

Nov 24, 2018

Nov 24, 2018 at 9:24 PM UTC

ice age, ver. 2