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haley-kerr
haley-kerr
American I discovered the beauty of poetry in middle school, and I turned to writing as a way to sort out my thoughts and feelings when I felt lost, confused, or unsure about different facets of my life. / When I was 14, I discovered spoken word poetry, the art of performance poetry. / I fell in love. / I became inspired. / When I write, I offer a portion of myself for the world to keep. My poetry allows one to inch into my mind and my heart and understand things as I know them to be true. / Feel free to take a look; maybe you'll feel me too. / Much love <3
Poems2
Followers6
Words268
At the thought of you with her my cheeks burn red, And instead of confronting you, I write about it in my orange Journal.  I imagine her yellow Hair tangled in your fingers.  I feel myself turning green; It’s not mature; I know, but it keeps me from being blue When I think about our love that was once so perfectly violet. I write to her: Does he give you a single violet Too?  He always said it meant more than a dozen red Roses.  You will know if it’s true when you look in his baby blue Eyes.  I write this in my orange Journal.  She might have fallen for it too if she was a little more green Or if she spent an afternoon skipping under the yellow Sun of summer.  We grew together under that yellow Sun, and I still have that violet, Gray now, with its brown stem, once green, Tucked away between pages I haven’t read In years in my orange Journal because it still reminds me of the way the wind blew Your locks out of your crystal blue Eyes.  Do you play with her yellow Hair like you played with mine?  I’m writing to him now in my orange Journal.  I don’t bring up the violet. I’m seeing red. I’m not myself when I wear jealousy’s green. I’m mean when I’m drenched in green. But baby, it’s nothing compared to the emptiness of blue That compels me to reread every note I’ve already read A thousand times before, that urges me to dig up the Yellow Submarine music video we made.  We laughed so hard our faces turned violet. I think it’s time now to close my orange Journal.  I must put away my orange Journal and move on.  I was alive and green With you but, violet Love only lasts for the season.  I’ll find another set of blue Eyes, and you’ll get lost in yellow Hair, just to forget about each other’s red Lips.  I’ll let my orange journal collect dust because I know the next one will pick me up now that you blew Me down. I’m a little less green since the trees have changed their colors. I find comfort knowing yellow Highlights fade come winter while the violet will get lost in the pages, but I’ll stay warm with my new love, burning red.
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Jan 21, 2013
Jan 21, 2013 at 1:49 PM UTC
haley-kerr
Color Me in Love
At the thought of you with her my cheeks burn red, And instead of confronting you, I write about it in my orange Journal.  I imagine her yellow Hair tangled in your fingers.  I feel myself turning green; It’s not mature; I know, but it keeps me from being blue When I think about our love that was once so perfectly violet. I write to her: Does he give you a single violet Too?  He always said it meant more than a dozen red Roses.  You will know if it’s true when you look in his baby blue Eyes.  I write this in my orange Journal.  She might have fallen for it too if she was a little more green Or if she spent an afternoon skipping under the yellow Sun of summer.  We grew together under that yellow Sun, and I still have that violet, Gray now, with its brown stem, once green, Tucked away between pages I haven’t read In years in my orange Journal because it still reminds me of the way the wind blew Your locks out of your crystal blue Eyes.  Do you play with her yellow Hair like you played with mine?  I’m writing to him now in my orange Journal.  I don’t bring up the violet. I’m seeing red. I’m not myself when I wear jealousy’s green. I’m mean when I’m drenched in green. But baby, it’s nothing compared to the emptiness of blue That compels me to reread every note I’ve already read A thousand times before, that urges me to dig up the Yellow Submarine music video we made.  We laughed so hard our faces turned violet. I think it’s time now to close my orange Journal.  I must put away my orange Journal and move on.  I was alive and green With you but, violet Love only lasts for the season.  I’ll find another set of blue Eyes, and you’ll get lost in yellow Hair, just to forget about each other’s red Lips.  I’ll let my orange journal collect dust because I know the next one will pick me up now that you blew Me down. I’m a little less green since the trees have changed their colors. I find comfort knowing yellow Highlights fade come winter while the violet will get lost in the pages, but I’ll stay warm with my new love, burning red.
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39
Dear Mercy Girl, I know the nights when the tears come in silent screams But the screaming music should block out everything I am the pins and needles in your fingertips, held captive underneath your thighs As they itch to grasp the cold metal That cuts hot Opening your skin like a present on a random day That isn’t your birthday But that doesn’t faze you Because you’ll collect smiles where you can find them I know the fireworks in your chest The tearing of muscle and tissue but I promise your heart is okay I am the knot that forms in your throat You swallow me but I’ll just grow in the pit of your stomach… Let yourself write tearless words of someday, one day inspiration, Vindication that you feel I know the emptiness, The emotionless façade Broken by the deafening muteness of your cries for help You’re helpless, Hopeless, but hoping For anything Except the numbness that envelops you. And I know the numbness That keeps you cold as you open yourself Hot Blue burns red, But didn’t you know feeling isn’t your friend? I am the stairs screaming in protest under the sudden weight of your mother coming to check on you Because you are loved. Hide your knife, the only weapon you need tonight is that smile Promising you love her too. I know the nights when the sound of your own breathing is too much noise So I become your heartbeat Feel me remind you that you’re still alive. Because I feel everything. And I feel you. So when you need to talk about nothingness, let me be there. You don’t need to wrap yourself in long sleeves and your scarred arms, Share with me your troubles. You’re too young and alive to be dying alone. -A friend.
0
Jan 21, 2013
Jan 21, 2013 at 1:36 PM UTC
haley-kerr
I Know Mercy Girl
Dear Mercy Girl, I know the nights when the tears come in silent screams But the screaming music should block out everything I am the pins and needles in your fingertips, held captive underneath your thighs As they itch to grasp the cold metal That cuts hot Opening your skin like a present on a random day That isn’t your birthday But that doesn’t faze you Because you’ll collect smiles where you can find them I know the fireworks in your chest The tearing of muscle and tissue but I promise your heart is okay I am the knot that forms in your throat You swallow me but I’ll just grow in the pit of your stomach… Let yourself write tearless words of someday, one day inspiration, Vindication that you feel I know the emptiness, The emotionless façade Broken by the deafening muteness of your cries for help You’re helpless, Hopeless, but hoping For anything Except the numbness that envelops you. And I know the numbness That keeps you cold as you open yourself Hot Blue burns red, But didn’t you know feeling isn’t your friend? I am the stairs screaming in protest under the sudden weight of your mother coming to check on you Because you are loved. Hide your knife, the only weapon you need tonight is that smile Promising you love her too. I know the nights when the sound of your own breathing is too much noise So I become your heartbeat Feel me remind you that you’re still alive. Because I feel everything. And I feel you. So when you need to talk about nothingness, let me be there. You don’t need to wrap yourself in long sleeves and your scarred arms, Share with me your troubles. You’re too young and alive to be dying alone. -A friend.
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