iffahnabilah - Hello Poetry

I stopped writing, because i realized my words left no impact. That when you look them up in the dictionary, you couldn't find their meanings. I stopped because, i didn't want to face my problems. That re-writing my thoughts cuts deeper than my wounds. That's when i learn how to run away from them. But it distanced me further from the alphabets, i could no longer sting them together without stuttering. My words always stumble out of my mouth clumsily, under heavy breaths, i guess that's why they never made it into your head. But sometimes, i leave the emotions behind my words and let them float in stale air, i guess that's why they never stayed in your head long enough. (FAH)

0

Jul 29, 2015

Jul 29, 2015 at 3:24 PM UTC

iffahnabilah

i stopped writing

I stopped writing, because i realized my words left no impact. That when you look them up in the dictionary, you couldn't find their meanings. I stopped because, i didn't want to face my problems. That re-writing my thoughts cuts deeper than my wounds. That's when i learn how to run away from them. But it distanced me further from the alphabets, i could no longer sting them together without stuttering. My words always stumble out of my mouth clumsily, under heavy breaths, i guess that's why they never made it into your head. But sometimes, i leave the emotions behind my words and let them float in stale air, i guess that's why they never stayed in your head long enough. (FAH)

18

I'm sorry my mouth is lethal When I'm angry. I spit venom to avoid poisoning myself. I hope you understand. Maybe it's just me, Missing you. (Fah)

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Apr 1, 2015

Apr 1, 2015 at 12:37 PM UTC

iffahnabilah

Idek

I'm sorry my mouth is lethal When I'm angry. I spit venom to avoid poisoning myself. I hope you understand. Maybe it's just me, Missing you. (Fah)

7

And I had to walk away I was just hoping at least he noticed I didn't run

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iffahnabilah

Mar 14, 2015

Mar 14, 2015 at 6:55 AM UTC

writtenbyleigh

Would that make it any better?

And I had to walk away I was just hoping at least he noticed I didn't run

2

I hate the fact that I can come up with stories for people who never lived, Or a poem about things that happened when I was a kid, But I can't figure out how to remember the quadratic equation, And nothing good comes out of my power of persuasion. I have no idea what comes out of having a creative mind, But not being able to do complicated math in record time. I hate that I would rather spend hours coming up with a metaphor to describe the panic I feel, Than learn things that are supposed to help me make enough money to pay for even one daily meal. I spent more time trying to write this, Than I ever would trying to understand functions and statistics. But writing ****** poetry isn't going to help me, When I don't even have the slightest idea what I want to be.

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iffahnabilah

Feb 25, 2015

Feb 25, 2015 at 9:14 PM UTC

gaypetals

My future feels like torture

I hate the fact that I can come up with stories for people who never lived, Or a poem about things that happened when I was a kid, But I can't figure out how to remember the quadratic equation, And nothing good comes out of my power of persuasion. I have no idea what comes out of having a creative mind, But not being able to do complicated math in record time. I hate that I would rather spend hours coming up with a metaphor to describe the panic I feel, Than learn things that are supposed to help me make enough money to pay for even one daily meal. I spent more time trying to write this, Than I ever would trying to understand functions and statistics. But writing ****** poetry isn't going to help me, When I don't even have the slightest idea what I want to be.

12

When you're silent, anybody can write your story. Your silence becomes their interpretation. Arrogant face. Cigarette in-between pursed lips. Glaring eyes. Place your assumptions. Little did you know, it's a mask. Her silence is barricade from showing the most integral part of herself. Her silence, is filled with pain of yesterday's unnoticeable wounds on her hips. Her silence, one day will be forever.

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Feb 25, 2015

Feb 25, 2015 at 9:10 PM UTC

iffahnabilah

silent.

When you're silent, anybody can write your story. Your silence becomes their interpretation. Arrogant face. Cigarette in-between pursed lips. Glaring eyes. Place your assumptions. Little did you know, it's a mask. Her silence is barricade from showing the most integral part of herself. Her silence, is filled with pain of yesterday's unnoticeable wounds on her hips. Her silence, one day will be forever.

15

I've spent countless hours Searching for myself in bottles And scraping the bottom Hoping that I may be found there I've spent countless hours Searching for myself in medication And swallowing the hardest of pills Seeking refuge in the numbness I've spent countless hours Searching for myself in people And cleaning myself after the lust Just feeling more lost than before I've spent countless hours Talking others down from suicide And hating every reassuring word That comes out of my lying mouth I've spent countless hours Staring at myself in the mirror And working on my smiles and laughs So that they seem real and authentic And I've spent countless hours Regretting all these hours wasted

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iffahnabilah

Feb 25, 2015

Feb 25, 2015 at 10:57 AM UTC

Xyns

Hours

I've spent countless hours Searching for myself in bottles And scraping the bottom Hoping that I may be found there I've spent countless hours Searching for myself in medication And swallowing the hardest of pills Seeking refuge in the numbness I've spent countless hours Searching for myself in people And cleaning myself after the lust Just feeling more lost than before I've spent countless hours Talking others down from suicide And hating every reassuring word That comes out of my lying mouth I've spent countless hours Staring at myself in the mirror And working on my smiles and laughs So that they seem real and authentic And I've spent countless hours Regretting all these hours wasted

22

When your tears just flow without hesitance Or when someone asks why you look so sad but nothing's on your mind And it seems that your existence wants to stop existing itself But you just don't know anymore And you don't know how to answer anyone or yourself about how you really feel All you know is sometimes you feel high When you feel down

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iffahnabilah

Feb 19, 2015

Feb 19, 2015 at 11:45 PM UTC

lunar-love

it's the high of feeling down

When your tears just flow without hesitance Or when someone asks why you look so sad but nothing's on your mind And it seems that your existence wants to stop existing itself But you just don't know anymore And you don't know how to answer anyone or yourself about how you really feel All you know is sometimes you feel high When you feel down

7

*We are what we are, And we are nothing more, But what if what we are, Is just what I was looking for?*

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iffahnabilah

Feb 19, 2015

Feb 19, 2015 at 11:43 PM UTC

urmilaj

We Are, Are We?

*We are what we are, And we are nothing more, But what if what we are, Is just what I was looking for?*

4

Dear Me, You ask only others if your work is good, you never actually trust in your own judgment. People have told you your writing is beautiful, so why don't you believe them? It must be the same reason you don't find yourself beautiful, because when you read your work or look in the mirror you wish it were different. For others to enjoy something even more the maker should be confident, so why aren't you? I hear you telling people who love you, you have no worth. I hear you telling yourself in the mirror you hate what you see. I hear you crying at night because of all the hate you hold for yourself. I hear you sitting in your bed gouging your heart out every night because you wish to be different. I've wrote to tell you to stop! When you do this you're hurting me the most, for I am the only one who's tortured by these sounds, for I am the only one forced to hear them everyday. Please stop, for you are killing me! I don't want to suffer anymore...... Please, I can't take this pain much longer. I know you're stronger than this! So please, please....... Please......just stop.

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iffahnabilah

Feb 13, 2015

Feb 13, 2015 at 2:01 PM UTC

the-lonely-remnants

Dear Me

Dear Me, You ask only others if your work is good, you never actually trust in your own judgment. People have told you your writing is beautiful, so why don't you believe them? It must be the same reason you don't find yourself beautiful, because when you read your work or look in the mirror you wish it were different. For others to enjoy something even more the maker should be confident, so why aren't you? I hear you telling people who love you, you have no worth. I hear you telling yourself in the mirror you hate what you see. I hear you crying at night because of all the hate you hold for yourself. I hear you sitting in your bed gouging your heart out every night because you wish to be different. I've wrote to tell you to stop! When you do this you're hurting me the most, for I am the only one who's tortured by these sounds, for I am the only one forced to hear them everyday. Please stop, for you are killing me! I don't want to suffer anymore...... Please, I can't take this pain much longer. I know you're stronger than this! So please, please....... Please......just stop.

2