jhennesy - Hello Poetry

Sometimes I talk about you like you're away on a trip and you're coming back. Throwing you into casual conversations as if the people I was conversing with felt everything you make me feel. Pretending they understand the depths of my heart and how deep you've fallen into it. But not even I understand the intensity that is you. Like gravity you pull me back and hold me down. Trapping me in an illusion of a story never told and never to be told but forever read in my head. A never ending dialogue between love and loss, let go and hold on. A love story. A tragically beautiful love story.

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jhennesy

Apr 9, 2014

Apr 9, 2014 at 10:29 PM UTC

kevin-t-norman

A Love Story

Sometimes I talk about you like you're away on a trip and you're coming back. Throwing you into casual conversations as if the people I was conversing with felt everything you make me feel. Pretending they understand the depths of my heart and how deep you've fallen into it. But not even I understand the intensity that is you. Like gravity you pull me back and hold me down. Trapping me in an illusion of a story never told and never to be told but forever read in my head. A never ending dialogue between love and loss, let go and hold on. A love story. A tragically beautiful love story.

11

If I wrote suicide note... It wouldn't be a love letter If I wrote a suicide note Would you be in it Would it sadden your conviction Would you be my hopeful light that made me leave with a smile If you read the note Would tear ducts flow Would you caring make a difference Woul I be pushed aside or would it be more delibrate If I wrote a suicide note Do you think I would end it Would life crush me to the point Thyat I would morlly want to end it When you read it and the truth spilled out Could it make or brake your attention My hateful restitution My loving resolution What would be the reason Today or tomorrow If you wrote a suicide note Would i be in it or make the difference Have you ever thought every consequential second me just exsisting or emotions thick as resin Would you cry knowing I did. The guilt would it **** you that I lived and you weren't around to care or do anything about it. If you were there and tried as hard as you could and love me with warmth and not responsibility as I would you. I left it in the note as my best and worst

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jhennesy

Apr 9, 2014

Apr 9, 2014 at 10:17 PM UTC

Muegen1nk

Writing from a suicide

If I wrote suicide note... It wouldn't be a love letter If I wrote a suicide note Would you be in it Would it sadden your conviction Would you be my hopeful light that made me leave with a smile If you read the note Would tear ducts flow Would you caring make a difference Woul I be pushed aside or would it be more delibrate If I wrote a suicide note Do you think I would end it Would life crush me to the point Thyat I would morlly want to end it When you read it and the truth spilled out Could it make or brake your attention My hateful restitution My loving resolution What would be the reason Today or tomorrow If you wrote a suicide note Would i be in it or make the difference Have you ever thought every consequential second me just exsisting or emotions thick as resin Would you cry knowing I did. The guilt would it **** you that I lived and you weren't around to care or do anything about it. If you were there and tried as hard as you could and love me with warmth and not responsibility as I would you. I left it in the note as my best and worst

24

Creating Scandel for the sake of love The more the drama festers the harder I fall into you. Into your arms Into your kisses Into a passion that has been buried by disappointing connections With you I just want to be Become lost in eachother for a while Not let the distraction of harsh words and past mistakes overcome what has evolved between us It is real but undefined It exists in the belief of what could be We both carry broken hearts and insecurities Are we strong enough to trust? Questions seem endless and certainly unanswered But through the very thick haze of doubt we see each other clearly and smile There seem to be an unspoken understanding that we may just have fooled them all

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Feb 10, 2014

Feb 10, 2014 at 10:04 AM UTC

jhennesy

The Spell

Creating Scandel for the sake of love The more the drama festers the harder I fall into you. Into your arms Into your kisses Into a passion that has been buried by disappointing connections With you I just want to be Become lost in eachother for a while Not let the distraction of harsh words and past mistakes overcome what has evolved between us It is real but undefined It exists in the belief of what could be We both carry broken hearts and insecurities Are we strong enough to trust? Questions seem endless and certainly unanswered But through the very thick haze of doubt we see each other clearly and smile There seem to be an unspoken understanding that we may just have fooled them all

17

What do I take with me as I walk out that perverbal door? The butterflies I have kept hidden in my hope. My disintegrating resilience, slowly chipped away by your verbal thrashings and controlled blaming. The hijacking of emotions. I pack away what remains of my self esteem. Delicately wrap the shattered pieces of my truth. To be replenished and reconstructed with sober eyes and a revived mind. I ask for the lessons yet to be learned. And the love yet to be unconditional. Left behind is my forgiveness without expectation. My resentments without guilt. My shame without implication. I no longer need them to define me. My apology is next to the many things left unsaid. A silent acknowlegment of my regrets and carelessness. We can each take the memories that remind us of a happier time. When ignorance was euphoric and accepted. Floating above reality in a kismet of our own creation. Finally, we can each lovingly share the life-force that has made it all worth something.

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Feb 7, 2014

Feb 7, 2014 at 9:17 AM UTC

jhennesy

The Division Of Marital Assets

What do I take with me as I walk out that perverbal door? The butterflies I have kept hidden in my hope. My disintegrating resilience, slowly chipped away by your verbal thrashings and controlled blaming. The hijacking of emotions. I pack away what remains of my self esteem. Delicately wrap the shattered pieces of my truth. To be replenished and reconstructed with sober eyes and a revived mind. I ask for the lessons yet to be learned. And the love yet to be unconditional. Left behind is my forgiveness without expectation. My resentments without guilt. My shame without implication. I no longer need them to define me. My apology is next to the many things left unsaid. A silent acknowlegment of my regrets and carelessness. We can each take the memories that remind us of a happier time. When ignorance was euphoric and accepted. Floating above reality in a kismet of our own creation. Finally, we can each lovingly share the life-force that has made it all worth something.

20

I am getting ready for the calm. relief from the rampant and unwavering thoughts that **** my mind. self doubt clinging to my awakening like an incurable disease. I am getting ready for the artificial happiness to relent surrcome to unforced laughter and genuine smiles. I am getting ready for desire locked in the cellar of my shame along with so many other things I am getting ready for hope the warmth of it washing over me engulfing, cleansing bringing with it the unblinding sunlight I am getting ready for you my Beloved

0

Feb 2, 2014

Feb 2, 2014 at 7:56 PM UTC

jhennesy

My Beloved

I am getting ready for the calm. relief from the rampant and unwavering thoughts that **** my mind. self doubt clinging to my awakening like an incurable disease. I am getting ready for the artificial happiness to relent surrcome to unforced laughter and genuine smiles. I am getting ready for desire locked in the cellar of my shame along with so many other things I am getting ready for hope the warmth of it washing over me engulfing, cleansing bringing with it the unblinding sunlight I am getting ready for you my Beloved

14

Searching for my strength in my own self pity has left we weak of spirit and depleated of hope. I am at a depilating stand still. To pause is to fail. To rest creates guilt. By losing my sense of self, I have lost my truth. My instincts have been reduced to a whimper.

0

Jan 19, 2014

Jan 19, 2014 at 6:57 PM UTC

jhennesy

selfish

Searching for my strength in my own self pity has left we weak of spirit and depleated of hope. I am at a depilating stand still. To pause is to fail. To rest creates guilt. By losing my sense of self, I have lost my truth. My instincts have been reduced to a whimper.

7