*When I met you, you were struggling to pick up
The broken pieces of you she had left scattered all over the place.
You were bruised and scarred and I wanted to hold you and kiss the pain away.
You looked at me and I knew what you felt; I was you once when he tore me apart, I’ve walked the same road you're on.
I know the wild beasts that live there, I've made my peace with them.
You'll meet them too. I know it scares you and
I want to ease your mind, tell you it gets better,
but I know I have to let you figure that out for yourself.
Because that's how you grow,
That's how you become stronger,
That's how you heal.
I can't fix you, and I'm sorry for that,
You are your own saviour.
I'll swallow my feelings for now because this is about you and you only.
This is about you finding the light at the end of the tunnel.
And I won't ask you to walk faster because I'm way ahead of you on this road.
Instead, I'll wait here with open arms.
When you find yourself, you can find me.
When you're ready for it, you can walk with me.*
Feb 5, 2017
Feb 5, 2017 at 4:26 AM UTC
Do you ever think of me on rainy days?
about how I used to tell you
that you reminded me of the latter?
about how the pitter patter of the raindrops,
sounded just like the tears you wiped away?
Sometimes I sit in a coffeeshop and inhale the aroma,
and I swear I see your shadow in the rain.
—J.N
Feb 3, 2017
Feb 3, 2017 at 11:40 AM UTC
Someone once told me
that butterflies only live for a year
so could you tell the ones you left in my stomach
that they've overstayed their welcome?
After you left, I catch myself running my fingers
over the things you touched the most.
I just want to feel the warmth of your fingertips.
I just want to know if the sound of my heartbeat
still sounds like windchimes to you.
—J.N
Feb 2, 2017
Feb 2, 2017 at 8:18 AM UTC
my heart you cant know
between my story and yours, my love
lies an ocean majesticly wide
—J.N
Jan 16, 2017
Jan 16, 2017 at 10:01 PM UTC
You are not the judgement people make of you
Nor are you your supposed flaws
You are not entitled to believe you can't,
Just because they said you couldn't.
You are not the servant,
Of the demons that envelop
Your entire being at 3:45am in
The morning.
Instead
You are the little things in life
That make you happy.
You are a beautiful Sunday morning.
You are the way your eyes sparkle
With happiness when you read a good poem.
You are the chirping of birds at 9am.
You are everything great.
But most importantly,
You are YOU
-JN
Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 6:47 AM UTC
I was young,
and quite possibly foolish enough
to think that love was
a beautiful stroll
in a flower-filled garden.
Little did I know
that the one thing I deemed beautiful
would eventually destroy me.
-J.N
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 11:50 AM UTC
kissing you was like swerving into oncoming traffic
i can never tell if i am more haunted by empty picture frames or the ashes of their contents
you taught me that the saying "pick your battles" meant not answering when love was at the door
sometimes when i drink whiskey i swear i can hear your voice in the creases of my bedsheets & i sleep on the floor
i still catch myself running my hands over things you touched the most, looking for the echoes of your fingertips
i practice things i'll never say to you
i remember the day you told me you didn't like poetry, how "everything's already been said" & how "nothing meaningful can be captured without being cliche" you know, i don't miss you like the sun and moon, i do not miss you like tide bent waves crashing on the shoreline, i miss you like a chernobyl swingset misses children
rumor has it that drowning is a lot like coming home, that drinking bleach can **** the butterflies in your stomach
for your love of cigarettes, i would have been an ashtray
this halloween i want to dress up as the you when you loved yourself and show up on your doorstep
i never understood what you meant when you said i was an instrument, back when you would cup your hands around my chest and breathe through the holes in my heart, i still wonder if the sounds i made remind you of wind chimes
i never paid much attention to abandoned buildings until i became one
in my dreams all the flowers smell like your perfume
i am the only person who has ever wished for the same snowflake to fall twice
if i could go back, and rewrite the definition of audacity, it would be how when we lost the bet of love, you said "we never shook on it"
i love you, if the feeling is not mutual, please pretend this was a poem
the only apology i want from you, is to have you repeat the names of children we will never have in your parents living room until they *****
we are the same person if you find yourself up at 4am dry heaving promises, or if you are kept awake by the laughter of those who've abandoned you
nobody ever told you that goodbyes taste like the back of stamps
sometimes i'm convinced that the only reason we hug, is so you can check my back for exit wounds
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 10:41 AM UTC
i sat a few tables
across you in the school cafeteria
and stared longingly at your dear face,
that's all that i've been doing
since the first time i encountered you
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 10:34 AM UTC
i do not need a reason
for my sadness,
it's just encrypted inside of me.
theres is no light at the end of my tunnel
and maybe there never will be.
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 3:07 PM UTC
i wanted to write about the sea
but ended up jotting down things
about you and me
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 3:03 PM UTC