would you still stay after the rain?
if the songs we play don't make us dance anymore,
if all the jokes and banter's been told?
would you still stay if the sun comes out?
if our fingertips don't brush off each other like they used to,
if our sentences are not filled by one another?
would you still stay if i told you i wanted you more than what you think
or would you not,
because i'm not what you need?
Aug 7, 2020
Aug 7, 2020 at 1:33 PM UTC
i still continue to write about you,
but no, it's not about how much i love you anymore,
or the way we danced at our bedroom floor,
or how it felt the way we kissed,
no, those are not thoughts to be missed.
i still continue to write about you.
though it's not about how it felt when we first held hands,
or how home was never home without your face at glance,
it's not about how you made me laugh at 2am,
but made me cry at 3pm.
i still continue to write about you.
but it's not about you anymore,
it's about the happiness we shared, the firsts we gave.
the memories we made, the chances we will never take again.
Jul 26, 2020
Jul 26, 2020 at 1:27 AM UTC
each puff i exhale,
with ragged breathe i take,
each one represents the echoes of yesterday,
the screaming,
the pain,
the anger i felt when you got up and said, "i'm done" and i said, "okay".
i inhale the sweet nicotine,
eyes closed,
feeling the melancholic sense that maybe, i shouldn't have let that one go,
exhale the smoke,
the heartache,
the state of denial when that fist hit the dry wall in our room,
the suprise i felt,
when the hands that held me gently,
now left purple bruises on my chest.
i inhale again,
and forgot that the man i once loved,
is the man who'll hurt me in the end.
Jul 26, 2020
Jul 26, 2020 at 1:24 AM UTC
feel how my heart sings for you,
how it's battered and bruised but it still continues to leap at the mere sound of your name.
feel how my heart cries for you,
the day you left, i never felt the same way.
feel how my heart beats for you,
how it takes it's last breathe of the air you breath, the faint smell of honeydew and the sweet pink of your lips forgotten and shoved in it's drawer.
feel how it takes its time to move on,
erasing every bit of the memory you left on its skin until everything is completely gone.
May 9, 2020
May 9, 2020 at 7:22 AM UTC
a new life to live,
with someone whom i love.
though how can i be sure,
of the person i have become?
it's still a battle between selfishness,
and letting go, the good and the bad,
the loved and unloved.
does anyone know what any of these mean?
thoughts are still scrambled,
but there's a new life to live.
the new chapter, the new memories.
a life that shall be well-lived.
May 5, 2020
May 5, 2020 at 11:49 AM UTC
Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.
Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.
Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.
Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.
May 5, 2020
May 5, 2020 at 11:46 AM UTC
we lie awake for the same reasons we fall asleep,
the haunting feeling of the past,
the unsureness of the future,
the unchangeableness of the present,
our eyes remain open and it reminds us of our past mistakes,
the ones we want to change but never will,
it reminds us of what used to be so easy;
living freely.
May 5, 2020
May 5, 2020 at 12:46 AM UTC
i will let my words flow freely,
in the way i will describe you in this poem.
i once thought of a prince,
the one who'll save me from all of this,
but no prince has come, but then i met you.
i felt how wonderful the world is,
just like how disney opens it's movies with the castle,
full of fireworks, and lights, and just everything in between.
that's how much you made me feel.
but i do admit to myself,
you're no prince,
you don't have the biggest castle, or that shiny white horse.
you are though, mine
and i don't regret it a single bit.
Mar 26, 2017
Mar 26, 2017 at 3:17 AM UTC
Stuck between going through,
and going back;
stuck holding somebody else,
and wishing to hold his.
Wanting to love them again,
and wanting to be loved by
someone new;
it's a battle between meddling with
the past
or fighting for the future.
Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 11:03 AM UTC
Poetry
takes on
a life
of its own
and has the inherent
unseen
connection
with all those
willing
to receive it.
To all those
wonderful
kindred spirits
out there
who take the time
to receive
what's in our hearts
and minds
who make us feel
so not
alone
.....
and though
what we say
may not be
profound
we are treated
with value
that we
belong.
Blessings
cj 2016
Sep 16, 2016
Sep 16, 2016 at 1:35 AM UTC