linesbetweenbreaths - Hello Poetry

I let these birds of feelings out of their rose gold enclosure The way they went out was unexpectedly a thing of grace And everything you did, I miscalculated Was I really brave? Then why am I still wallowing In what I could have done differently But that gloom is quickly fading than how I intend them to I wish for it to stay I want to cry still because in here I found a way, temporarily to keep my issues at bay

0

May 21

May 21, 2026 at 12:36 AM UTC

take a break, just fall

I let these birds of feelings out of their rose gold enclosure The way they went out was unexpectedly a thing of grace And everything you did, I miscalculated Was I really brave? Then why am I still wallowing In what I could have done differently But that gloom is quickly fading than how I intend them to I wish for it to stay I want to cry still because in here I found a way, temporarily to keep my issues at bay

13

Believe me I tried to match his enthusiasm. God, I really tried to Guess I lacked in that department, my apologies beau This is slowly becoming a big inconvenience, don’t want to He knows I’m up to something yet he didn’t let that get in the way Yes, I’d love if we continue this but without ever going forward just stay I could see he’s genuinely trying, though I appreciate the comfort This wasn’t my plan, because I have way too many misdemeanors He can perfectly sense it but what can I say, I am in the motion Five good mornings are better than one and five questions Asking me how my day went, will drown out that unnecessary tone People say I got a thing for authority figures I just find it beguiling for someone to be MORE So I’ll just settle for guys older **** I like it when I win them over I like it when they latch into me like they’re pressured and hopeless Or they’re rejoicing in my youth, funny how they become careless Oh yes. Thirties and they’re thirsting. But then again eventually, I’d never bother They’re good enough to bury that one real deal that I cannot grasp, It’s good for nobody, a mess no one was ready for, a sad canvas Now, gotta try to manipulate my narrative. They chase me, I want that This is the calm. The fun. What the real deal fails to have and ***** me over, somewhat? That is why only his, will never fill me completely Let’s make this several so that I’ll not be lonely I wish I could let you off the hook immediately But not when I’m still getting away from that one real deal Pitstops after pitstops, until I made my mind. Shall we?

0

May 23, 2020

May 23, 2020 at 3:47 AM UTC

Shall We

Believe me I tried to match his enthusiasm. God, I really tried to Guess I lacked in that department, my apologies beau This is slowly becoming a big inconvenience, don’t want to He knows I’m up to something yet he didn’t let that get in the way Yes, I’d love if we continue this but without ever going forward just stay I could see he’s genuinely trying, though I appreciate the comfort This wasn’t my plan, because I have way too many misdemeanors He can perfectly sense it but what can I say, I am in the motion Five good mornings are better than one and five questions Asking me how my day went, will drown out that unnecessary tone People say I got a thing for authority figures I just find it beguiling for someone to be MORE So I’ll just settle for guys older **** I like it when I win them over I like it when they latch into me like they’re pressured and hopeless Or they’re rejoicing in my youth, funny how they become careless Oh yes. Thirties and they’re thirsting. But then again eventually, I’d never bother They’re good enough to bury that one real deal that I cannot grasp, It’s good for nobody, a mess no one was ready for, a sad canvas Now, gotta try to manipulate my narrative. They chase me, I want that This is the calm. The fun. What the real deal fails to have and ***** me over, somewhat? That is why only his, will never fill me completely Let’s make this several so that I’ll not be lonely I wish I could let you off the hook immediately But not when I’m still getting away from that one real deal Pitstops after pitstops, until I made my mind. Shall we?

25

i hate your eyes i hate how evidently they lack sleep i hate the fact that it makes you look cute it makes me sick i hate the way you pronounce words i hate that it echoes when i read my notes i hate your kindness, i hate your smile i hate it when i actually start to try to move past it and make a fresh start then you’re there suddenly leaving a fresh mark i hate that you know i like you and the power it has over me i hate it when you text me just when you feel like it i hate to convince myself every **** time it’s going to be the last because it most certainly feels like it i hate the impatience i feel because i have no right i hate the butterflies because they’re the bad kind i hate that they consume me, rush through me and i lose my focus, severely and (*sighs) i hate that i might like it too i hate that you told me we could form some connection i hate that i believed in it i hate not knowing why all of a sudden there’s a change of tone when last night I could have sworn you shared a delicate, intricate piece of you. why? i hate to swim with questions did i do something wrong, did i overdo it i hate that i don’t know what goes in your mind i hate that once in a while i imagine the possibility but most of all, i hate the fact that you’re just plain nice to everybody and there’s nothing, special in me i hate that i’d have to see you again soon i admit i’m afraid because i hate that what i wrote to you, will still be true i hate that i’d have to pretend all over again it’s daunting to me but it’s going to be just an easy task for you i hate that you’ve become a pretty big chunk in my phase of life and i hate lastly, that i’m just an insignificant detail to you

0

Jan 13, 2020

Jan 13, 2020 at 1:36 AM UTC

/i hate to observe/

i hate your eyes i hate how evidently they lack sleep i hate the fact that it makes you look cute it makes me sick i hate the way you pronounce words i hate that it echoes when i read my notes i hate your kindness, i hate your smile i hate it when i actually start to try to move past it and make a fresh start then you’re there suddenly leaving a fresh mark i hate that you know i like you and the power it has over me i hate it when you text me just when you feel like it i hate to convince myself every **** time it’s going to be the last because it most certainly feels like it i hate the impatience i feel because i have no right i hate the butterflies because they’re the bad kind i hate that they consume me, rush through me and i lose my focus, severely and (*sighs) i hate that i might like it too i hate that you told me we could form some connection i hate that i believed in it i hate not knowing why all of a sudden there’s a change of tone when last night I could have sworn you shared a delicate, intricate piece of you. why? i hate to swim with questions did i do something wrong, did i overdo it i hate that i don’t know what goes in your mind i hate that once in a while i imagine the possibility but most of all, i hate the fact that you’re just plain nice to everybody and there’s nothing, special in me i hate that i’d have to see you again soon i admit i’m afraid because i hate that what i wrote to you, will still be true i hate that i’d have to pretend all over again it’s daunting to me but it’s going to be just an easy task for you i hate that you’ve become a pretty big chunk in my phase of life and i hate lastly, that i’m just an insignificant detail to you

40

She paused. Again. Hoping to gain another strength before she forces all these wastes out of her. One last sigh before she sticks her two fingers into her throat and let her body pay for all the gluttonous thrills she can’t help with. For having that omnipresent urge win over her and throw her into a feast. That is the absolute worst. Because that’s when waves of regrets come flushing to her. She feels so panicky like the world’s falling apart. And now her eyes is watering with tears, her throat is sore with all the strain it has gone through, her abdominal muscles aching as it repeatedly contracts. She is stuck in this endless cycle of being deprived and depressed, drowning herself in sinful indulgence, feeling a tremendous loss of control, filling her self with unforgiving remorse and finally hurling those horrible monsters she just opened her doors for. But it’s the only key to make her hate herself less when she looks in the mirror. It’s the only convenient solution to experience the stuff she has been dying to taste without harming her goals. Everybody talks about positivity and loving yourself but she lacks the ability to stress how hard it is. She’s at the point in her life where she can not be okay with how her thighs look like wearing jeans, how it’s just as big as her father’s who is taller and more muscular than her, how she gives the best smile she thought she projected in photos and looking more like her whole face is swelling. How she goes crazy terrified of some numbers that increased. She did not know what they said bore far more greater value until those moments. It waved flags right into her face and snapped her into the reality of how hideous she has become. And now she met metamorphosis. Those comparisons that drive her to run fifteen extra minutes to her half-hour routine, that made her enjoy exhausting herself knowing that she will burn more especially with a bit of calories to arm herself. Quite often, she wakes up in the middle of the night, belly’s screaming with gnawing sensations and she can’t deny she is very glad of it because she knows when she steps on it tomorrow morning, more will be lost. It signifies hope is coming and let me tell you, it FUELS her. She has learned that the only way is to make those numbers go down. Those numbers that define her. Those numbers that equal her self-worth. Those goal numbers that she believes when she finally reach, will be the only thing that could give her the ecstasy that she desires. Because with every intake, she felt emptier and with an empty stomach, she sensed fulfilment. Alternating between these two universes she ultimately craves, where in one, she takes absolute joy without ever feeling guilty in finishing her medium rare steak to the bone and the other where she wears herself out hoping to be closer in shedding the unnecessary, excess part of her to the bone.

0

May 30, 2019

May 30, 2019 at 5:30 AM UTC

The Purge

She paused. Again. Hoping to gain another strength before she forces all these wastes out of her. One last sigh before she sticks her two fingers into her throat and let her body pay for all the gluttonous thrills she can’t help with. For having that omnipresent urge win over her and throw her into a feast. That is the absolute worst. Because that’s when waves of regrets come flushing to her. She feels so panicky like the world’s falling apart. And now her eyes is watering with tears, her throat is sore with all the strain it has gone through, her abdominal muscles aching as it repeatedly contracts. She is stuck in this endless cycle of being deprived and depressed, drowning herself in sinful indulgence, feeling a tremendous loss of control, filling her self with unforgiving remorse and finally hurling those horrible monsters she just opened her doors for. But it’s the only key to make her hate herself less when she looks in the mirror. It’s the only convenient solution to experience the stuff she has been dying to taste without harming her goals. Everybody talks about positivity and loving yourself but she lacks the ability to stress how hard it is. She’s at the point in her life where she can not be okay with how her thighs look like wearing jeans, how it’s just as big as her father’s who is taller and more muscular than her, how she gives the best smile she thought she projected in photos and looking more like her whole face is swelling. How she goes crazy terrified of some numbers that increased. She did not know what they said bore far more greater value until those moments. It waved flags right into her face and snapped her into the reality of how hideous she has become. And now she met metamorphosis. Those comparisons that drive her to run fifteen extra minutes to her half-hour routine, that made her enjoy exhausting herself knowing that she will burn more especially with a bit of calories to arm herself. Quite often, she wakes up in the middle of the night, belly’s screaming with gnawing sensations and she can’t deny she is very glad of it because she knows when she steps on it tomorrow morning, more will be lost. It signifies hope is coming and let me tell you, it FUELS her. She has learned that the only way is to make those numbers go down. Those numbers that define her. Those numbers that equal her self-worth. Those goal numbers that she believes when she finally reach, will be the only thing that could give her the ecstasy that she desires. Because with every intake, she felt emptier and with an empty stomach, she sensed fulfilment. Alternating between these two universes she ultimately craves, where in one, she takes absolute joy without ever feeling guilty in finishing her medium rare steak to the bone and the other where she wears herself out hoping to be closer in shedding the unnecessary, excess part of her to the bone.

1

really? a bit of a stumble? no. to speak of that she’s missing, now that’s an accurate blow yet an understatement begging could you do better than that, mate? listen, it’s a deep audible breathing the inadequacies painfully adequate visions maimed, blindly wandering a kind of pretty something she sought called for distraction from degrading thoughts what once was a careful fancy plan in a swift stroke, now it’s coming undone her walls echoed the how’s and why’s pouring the frustration in that thing she sought yet it proved to be a more frustrating cry sweet candies and spoiled foods all for naught in those small pulses of validation she felt longer vibrations of self-pity linger praying ****** hopes of forgetting as she knelt someday the kind she needs may He bring her what she aims starts to decay blisters and battles where her loyalty lay drills and ceremonies and flying planes remains untouched, but still aspired everyday

0

Nov 24, 2018

Nov 24, 2018 at 9:17 PM UTC

courting the martial

really? a bit of a stumble? no. to speak of that she’s missing, now that’s an accurate blow yet an understatement begging could you do better than that, mate? listen, it’s a deep audible breathing the inadequacies painfully adequate visions maimed, blindly wandering a kind of pretty something she sought called for distraction from degrading thoughts what once was a careful fancy plan in a swift stroke, now it’s coming undone her walls echoed the how’s and why’s pouring the frustration in that thing she sought yet it proved to be a more frustrating cry sweet candies and spoiled foods all for naught in those small pulses of validation she felt longer vibrations of self-pity linger praying ****** hopes of forgetting as she knelt someday the kind she needs may He bring her what she aims starts to decay blisters and battles where her loyalty lay drills and ceremonies and flying planes remains untouched, but still aspired everyday

24

1. I never would have thought your whole existence could carry much significance in my life. There you were, standing, introducing yourself in fifth grade while I sat interested looking at you. 2. Have i ever told you that you are a great big ******* sunshine. Your good-mornings remind me a bright day ahead and boy you even make late night-talking so LIT my eyes are glowing yeah (from the brightness of the screen apparently) 3. You're a Virgo. I'm a Gemini. They've always told that earth signs do not always get along really well, with us, signs of the air element. And here we are proving them wrong. We're so much opposites yet we're more like magnets. 4. You wholeheartedly accepted my rainbows, supported me in every way and made my mess seem less of a storm. 5. Imagine lying down on flower fields at 6am. Listen to ****** hiphop songs. Think of the word wonderful. Watch a movie abundant of corny punchlines. That's being with you is like. 6. Together, we become investigators, actions analysts and psychological advisers when it comes to the people we like. Offering impressions and psychic predictions just so we could be sure we're hitting the right track. 7. You're the apple to my pie, you're the straw to my berry. You're the dirt in my eye. You're the Tom to my Jerry. 8. Fall down seven times. Stand up EIGHT. No matter how petty or serious our fights are, we're gonna mend it my best mate. 9. I am your biggest fan. Just like that. 10. Lastly, I know you're never into poetry and **** yet I made you one just like how I can't comprehend how you create art pieces so beautifully or just draw a single line so spectacularly. I'm always in awe. You give me glee.

0

Aug 21, 2017

Aug 21, 2017 at 7:12 AM UTC

An Account on Why You Are My Most Favorite Person in the World

1. I never would have thought your whole existence could carry much significance in my life. There you were, standing, introducing yourself in fifth grade while I sat interested looking at you. 2. Have i ever told you that you are a great big ******* sunshine. Your good-mornings remind me a bright day ahead and boy you even make late night-talking so LIT my eyes are glowing yeah (from the brightness of the screen apparently) 3. You're a Virgo. I'm a Gemini. They've always told that earth signs do not always get along really well, with us, signs of the air element. And here we are proving them wrong. We're so much opposites yet we're more like magnets. 4. You wholeheartedly accepted my rainbows, supported me in every way and made my mess seem less of a storm. 5. Imagine lying down on flower fields at 6am. Listen to ****** hiphop songs. Think of the word wonderful. Watch a movie abundant of corny punchlines. That's being with you is like. 6. Together, we become investigators, actions analysts and psychological advisers when it comes to the people we like. Offering impressions and psychic predictions just so we could be sure we're hitting the right track. 7. You're the apple to my pie, you're the straw to my berry. You're the dirt in my eye. You're the Tom to my Jerry. 8. Fall down seven times. Stand up EIGHT. No matter how petty or serious our fights are, we're gonna mend it my best mate. 9. I am your biggest fan. Just like that. 10. Lastly, I know you're never into poetry and **** yet I made you one just like how I can't comprehend how you create art pieces so beautifully or just draw a single line so spectacularly. I'm always in awe. You give me glee.

10

I tried to pluck some strings Listened as hard as I could Stared at the song written before me Yet the lyrics don't mean a thing as I stood Cowering behind these bars I built These melodies I've worked so hard to fake So that I, myself, can lose in it, believe in it A vibrato my soul needs to make I grieve for the lost times, for a wrong pitch Into many delusions, I sink, I sink, I sink It's hard to make something out from pieces We sang all of the chaos it made in chorus "Seem" fuels a very powerful belief It's real, spoken in hushed tones Yet when I try to form some harmony out of it It's very evident, the tunes don't exist at all Time ticks and it still keeps me guessing Even the world couldn't comprehend a thing And so all the notes died unprivileged from the truth We'll never learn what's real. Will we?

0

May 28, 2017

May 28, 2017 at 7:33 AM UTC

Musick of All The Beats Yo

I tried to pluck some strings Listened as hard as I could Stared at the song written before me Yet the lyrics don't mean a thing as I stood Cowering behind these bars I built These melodies I've worked so hard to fake So that I, myself, can lose in it, believe in it A vibrato my soul needs to make I grieve for the lost times, for a wrong pitch Into many delusions, I sink, I sink, I sink It's hard to make something out from pieces We sang all of the chaos it made in chorus "Seem" fuels a very powerful belief It's real, spoken in hushed tones Yet when I try to form some harmony out of it It's very evident, the tunes don't exist at all Time ticks and it still keeps me guessing Even the world couldn't comprehend a thing And so all the notes died unprivileged from the truth We'll never learn what's real. Will we?

20

We both like red He's captured by its vibrance While she dwells on its gloom Truth is I love maroon We both look good in it Yet your sight belongs to another He let a wide smile and she does too While I stare in peace, holding myself together

0

Mar 23, 2017

Mar 23, 2017 at 6:59 AM UTC

Rouge

We both like red He's captured by its vibrance While she dwells on its gloom Truth is I love maroon We both look good in it Yet your sight belongs to another He let a wide smile and she does too While I stare in peace, holding myself together

8

She's beauty, she's rage An end to patriarchy Such a labyrinth

0

Feb 12, 2017

Feb 12, 2017 at 12:16 AM UTC

Cold Fire

She's beauty, she's rage An end to patriarchy Such a labyrinth

3

you share a splendid resemblance with enigma and i guess no matter how insane i try, i am just not the alan turing to crack your code you are impossible and unfortunately, i'll always be playing the imitation game trying to win this great war with myself

0

Jan 13, 2017

Jan 13, 2017 at 7:06 AM UTC

but who ever loved ordinary

you share a splendid resemblance with enigma and i guess no matter how insane i try, i am just not the alan turing to crack your code you are impossible and unfortunately, i'll always be playing the imitation game trying to win this great war with myself

3