jessica-bullion - Hello Poetry

My insides are cracking little by little Day by day And as each day passes I have a thousand words in my mind But nothing to say Why do I want to spend time with you When you are always seeking out space I don't understand this mismatch And my faith in us is slipping from its place The beginning was endless And my heart never stayed on beat Now that phase is surely over And my hollowness reaches from heart to feet I don't know what you want And I'm too scared to ask again I don't want to be without you But being with you isn't telling me anything.

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Dec 6, 2015

Dec 6, 2015 at 2:43 PM UTC

cracks.

My insides are cracking little by little Day by day And as each day passes I have a thousand words in my mind But nothing to say Why do I want to spend time with you When you are always seeking out space I don't understand this mismatch And my faith in us is slipping from its place The beginning was endless And my heart never stayed on beat Now that phase is surely over And my hollowness reaches from heart to feet I don't know what you want And I'm too scared to ask again I don't want to be without you But being with you isn't telling me anything.

17

Vague and curiosity strike the audience Of the author of such a cryptic message The writer has everything to say but doesn't choose to say it You will stop and consider the message's possible true meaning Like one needing "to cut off her dead ends" when one posts a picture Of a haircut Or one saying "she now knows how it feels" And her reading it, she does. But these cryptic messages bring out the creativity in all our hearts How can we contort or twist those messages to get its true meaning We wonder and consider and wonder that one says something so poetic, so beautiful Yet poetry and a cryptic messages share something Poetry breaks a heart of the reader and leaves them wondering how A cryptic message does the same Except the reader wonders and considers if it really is meant for them... Or someone else A cryptic message holds so much power And the truth that the author refuses to share A poem takes an idea and allows its roots to grow in an infinite way that creates a stir in the readers mind So really, a poem is just like a cryptic message.

0

Dec 6, 2015

Dec 6, 2015 at 2:30 PM UTC

Just like a Cryptic Message

Vague and curiosity strike the audience Of the author of such a cryptic message The writer has everything to say but doesn't choose to say it You will stop and consider the message's possible true meaning Like one needing "to cut off her dead ends" when one posts a picture Of a haircut Or one saying "she now knows how it feels" And her reading it, she does. But these cryptic messages bring out the creativity in all our hearts How can we contort or twist those messages to get its true meaning We wonder and consider and wonder that one says something so poetic, so beautiful Yet poetry and a cryptic messages share something Poetry breaks a heart of the reader and leaves them wondering how A cryptic message does the same Except the reader wonders and considers if it really is meant for them... Or someone else A cryptic message holds so much power And the truth that the author refuses to share A poem takes an idea and allows its roots to grow in an infinite way that creates a stir in the readers mind So really, a poem is just like a cryptic message.

20

She said, "It would be a pleasure to walk on glass." Always exhausted by the outcome She saw in the mirror those few days "I'm stronger without you, no? Without a leech. ******* away my love. My freedom. My feminism. My drive. Why must he allow me to feel this weak?" She didn't see the light anymore She wanted to walk with her chin up and optimism for the rest of the week. But no. No could she walk when he seemed to completely given up Everything. She was weak. She didn't want him anymore. She wanted to breathe her own air. Think Her own thoughts. Speak Her own words. Do What she wanted to do. No more guilt. No more misunderstandings. Just her. And God. And her newly born to-do list for Selfish She.

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Apr 2, 2014

Apr 2, 2014 at 9:39 AM UTC

Selfish She

She said, "It would be a pleasure to walk on glass." Always exhausted by the outcome She saw in the mirror those few days "I'm stronger without you, no? Without a leech. ******* away my love. My freedom. My feminism. My drive. Why must he allow me to feel this weak?" She didn't see the light anymore She wanted to walk with her chin up and optimism for the rest of the week. But no. No could she walk when he seemed to completely given up Everything. She was weak. She didn't want him anymore. She wanted to breathe her own air. Think Her own thoughts. Speak Her own words. Do What she wanted to do. No more guilt. No more misunderstandings. Just her. And God. And her newly born to-do list for Selfish She.

24

Physical and mental pain Relentless and anguishing But what about mental pain Pain unseen Bubbles. Bubbles. Finally boils over It's one concept to be damaged by mental suffrage But how about being the one who commits the act Onto a lover? Stranger? Friend? Lover is worst. The pain onto a lover is equivalent to a stranger tenfold Tossing a grenade straight to a healthy selfless heart. The lovers heart. And then you. Isolated. In a corner. Being told in one ear you did it Yet another ear says is that really what YOU YOURSELF wanted? Pain comes and goes in abundance How to deal? The theory of talking it out is one Yet the only one who can help is the one you shoved a knife into You ask yourself--speaking to them... Would this twist the knife? Maybe do yourself a favor and just shut the **** up and experience your consequences. They did. Falling in and out with you.

0

Mar 21, 2014

Mar 21, 2014 at 2:10 PM UTC

at war.

Physical and mental pain Relentless and anguishing But what about mental pain Pain unseen Bubbles. Bubbles. Finally boils over It's one concept to be damaged by mental suffrage But how about being the one who commits the act Onto a lover? Stranger? Friend? Lover is worst. The pain onto a lover is equivalent to a stranger tenfold Tossing a grenade straight to a healthy selfless heart. The lovers heart. And then you. Isolated. In a corner. Being told in one ear you did it Yet another ear says is that really what YOU YOURSELF wanted? Pain comes and goes in abundance How to deal? The theory of talking it out is one Yet the only one who can help is the one you shoved a knife into You ask yourself--speaking to them... Would this twist the knife? Maybe do yourself a favor and just shut the **** up and experience your consequences. They did. Falling in and out with you.

20

Wanting the experience to be gone Yet understanding why it happened I remind myself every knights night has its dawn While my heart remains flattened All of a sudden my body became a statue She wanted this to be my punishment What was done is done and fighting back has no value After all, I was her baby but then became contorted and bent My father enters the room and picks up on the familiar scent I sob and shake while holding my tender body Evil laughs after she has inflicted both physical and mental torment Hope exits and fear embodies Alone angry and afraid How does a temper reach that level of rage? Piecing together what was torn apart from a trusting blade I quietly fight my demons inside this donated cage.

0

Dec 6, 2013

Dec 6, 2013 at 12:32 PM UTC

Donated Cage.

Wanting the experience to be gone Yet understanding why it happened I remind myself every knights night has its dawn While my heart remains flattened All of a sudden my body became a statue She wanted this to be my punishment What was done is done and fighting back has no value After all, I was her baby but then became contorted and bent My father enters the room and picks up on the familiar scent I sob and shake while holding my tender body Evil laughs after she has inflicted both physical and mental torment Hope exits and fear embodies Alone angry and afraid How does a temper reach that level of rage? Piecing together what was torn apart from a trusting blade I quietly fight my demons inside this donated cage.

16

Was it easy for you? At first it was hell- then I was free My hell has arrived Your absence was the present past Why did you do this How couldn't you listen to the death of us? I'm now taking blame We've all at times been devils advocate I can't take this space Welcome to the suffrage you ignored Suffrage is improper Being lovers when I felt merely friendship? I love you Loved is proper. Effort? Care? Eliminated. I can't handle this solitude Yes you can. Grow alone. I did--without you. Apart? We're certainly not one anymore I was stupid baby That's not why I'm here; to debate Then why did you show To fully implement meaning to an end.

0

Dec 6, 2013

Dec 6, 2013 at 12:31 PM UTC

Forgotten.

Was it easy for you? At first it was hell- then I was free My hell has arrived Your absence was the present past Why did you do this How couldn't you listen to the death of us? I'm now taking blame We've all at times been devils advocate I can't take this space Welcome to the suffrage you ignored Suffrage is improper Being lovers when I felt merely friendship? I love you Loved is proper. Effort? Care? Eliminated. I can't handle this solitude Yes you can. Grow alone. I did--without you. Apart? We're certainly not one anymore I was stupid baby That's not why I'm here; to debate Then why did you show To fully implement meaning to an end.

22

Throwing up will make you beautiful After all, beauty is pain Waxing every square inch of your human body Squeezing into those Spanx to hide your smallest flaws Your daughter, she needs help with her eating disorder There's no beauty in that. Strictly pain. Or telling your 20 year old best friend everyday for 6 years a size 3 isn't anywhere neat fat Having the same conversation with a 10 year old girl: is that any more beautiful? No. Forget that beauty isn't painful A mother experiencing excruciating pain yet forgetting it all when she holds her child for the first time Death of a man with terminal illness--all the pain built up to the soul finally at ease The battered woman seeking courage to break free and begin new life Actual emphasis to "beauty is pain" is one who pushes through the undesired struggle-- beauty is the reward Remember that beauty can be painful What's beautiful in your life?

0

Dec 5, 2013

Dec 5, 2013 at 3:24 PM UTC

Beauty isn't that Painful

Throwing up will make you beautiful After all, beauty is pain Waxing every square inch of your human body Squeezing into those Spanx to hide your smallest flaws Your daughter, she needs help with her eating disorder There's no beauty in that. Strictly pain. Or telling your 20 year old best friend everyday for 6 years a size 3 isn't anywhere neat fat Having the same conversation with a 10 year old girl: is that any more beautiful? No. Forget that beauty isn't painful A mother experiencing excruciating pain yet forgetting it all when she holds her child for the first time Death of a man with terminal illness--all the pain built up to the soul finally at ease The battered woman seeking courage to break free and begin new life Actual emphasis to "beauty is pain" is one who pushes through the undesired struggle-- beauty is the reward Remember that beauty can be painful What's beautiful in your life?

15