md - Hello Poetry

it was not beautiful, the way he broke my heart. it was not gentle, or lovely, or romantic. it was a monday morning screaming battle, it was the feeling of words jabbing into my soul. he left without a goodbye, I spewed hate without remorse. it was not beautiful, loving him. I tore down my body for a sake of well-being I never really established. I left home and never came back. he poured the gasoline, laughed as I lit the match, "baby, keep me warm."

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May 21, 2018

May 21, 2018 at 1:19 PM UTC

md

the verge of eighteen

it was not beautiful, the way he broke my heart. it was not gentle, or lovely, or romantic. it was a monday morning screaming battle, it was the feeling of words jabbing into my soul. he left without a goodbye, I spewed hate without remorse. it was not beautiful, loving him. I tore down my body for a sake of well-being I never really established. I left home and never came back. he poured the gasoline, laughed as I lit the match, "baby, keep me warm."

17

when our two tragedies met, we created a storm. it was you and me against the world, but eventually there was nothing left to tear down besides each other. what's a hurricane without the wind? I let you engulf me.

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May 21, 2018

May 21, 2018 at 1:15 PM UTC

md

category five

when our two tragedies met, we created a storm. it was you and me against the world, but eventually there was nothing left to tear down besides each other. what's a hurricane without the wind? I let you engulf me.

7

it's much easier to appear unphased than to admit that the walls i put up inside my being have morphed into open windows am i still vulnerable if it's only internal? looking at you sparks an unsettling amount of familiarity inside me and i know if i allow myself to fall prisoner to these urges - if i don't refuse these emotions that keep surfacing, i will end up creating yet another home out of a person who has no room for a permanent resident.

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Apr 26, 2018

Apr 26, 2018 at 11:19 PM UTC

md

"you're never serious about anything"

it's much easier to appear unphased than to admit that the walls i put up inside my being have morphed into open windows am i still vulnerable if it's only internal? looking at you sparks an unsettling amount of familiarity inside me and i know if i allow myself to fall prisoner to these urges - if i don't refuse these emotions that keep surfacing, i will end up creating yet another home out of a person who has no room for a permanent resident.

8

If I was to be honest about the person I am I'd walk around with a neon sign, "I'll love you because I can't love myself. I'll love you until I find better reasons to suffer." It's a sadomasochism complex. It's a toxicity I've grown acquired to.

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Nov 11, 2017

Nov 11, 2017 at 9:28 PM UTC

md

maybe we weren't in love, but the way we manipulated each other could've fooled anyone

If I was to be honest about the person I am I'd walk around with a neon sign, "I'll love you because I can't love myself. I'll love you until I find better reasons to suffer." It's a sadomasochism complex. It's a toxicity I've grown acquired to.

5

he was the first apartment you get after moving out of your parents'. it was your home, but not really. it was comforting, but it wasn't familiar. sometimes i miss the way he smelled when i had my lips pressed against his neck. sometimes i drink until i forget the name of the cologne he wore.

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Nov 9, 2017

Nov 9, 2017 at 10:52 PM UTC

md

i moved back to my parents house.

he was the first apartment you get after moving out of your parents'. it was your home, but not really. it was comforting, but it wasn't familiar. sometimes i miss the way he smelled when i had my lips pressed against his neck. sometimes i drink until i forget the name of the cologne he wore.

5

I gave you every piece of me - Every sliver of my soul that I spent years working on, You now own. I thought you would take care of me But I can see the person I used to be Collecting dust on the shelves of your heart And I cannot do anything but stare And wish so badly that I could take it back, Take all of it back. I don't just want the broken pieces of me. I want every stupid kiss, Every pointless argument, Every hour Minute Second That was wasted on you.

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Sep 4, 2017

Sep 4, 2017 at 2:55 PM UTC

md

m.b.

I gave you every piece of me - Every sliver of my soul that I spent years working on, You now own. I thought you would take care of me But I can see the person I used to be Collecting dust on the shelves of your heart And I cannot do anything but stare And wish so badly that I could take it back, Take all of it back. I don't just want the broken pieces of me. I want every stupid kiss, Every pointless argument, Every hour Minute Second That was wasted on you.

16

your drunken lips, my ***** tongue remind me what it’s like to feel whole - when there’s not a gaping void in my chest. tell me i’m beautiful only this time, you mean it.

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Mar 26, 2017

Mar 26, 2017 at 9:18 PM UTC

md

Phoenix

your drunken lips, my ***** tongue remind me what it’s like to feel whole - when there’s not a gaping void in my chest. tell me i’m beautiful only this time, you mean it.

6

I remember the first time I truly saw her. My eyes fixated on the curve of her lips and the gentle flow of her red hair. I prayed to a god I was not sure existed because I needed to keep this girl around. The green in her eyes reminded me of the time I took too many pills and saw an angel. I'm lucky to have a piece of heaven in my arms.

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Sep 27, 2016

Sep 27, 2016 at 11:42 AM UTC

md

Ready for My Forever

I remember the first time I truly saw her. My eyes fixated on the curve of her lips and the gentle flow of her red hair. I prayed to a god I was not sure existed because I needed to keep this girl around. The green in her eyes reminded me of the time I took too many pills and saw an angel. I'm lucky to have a piece of heaven in my arms.

5

This is the kind of feeling that is best described in stores from successful authors and movies starring famous actors. I don't have the capacity in my vocabulary to expand my thoughts beyond the words, "I love her," And I mean it, I really love her. I am looking at her in awe because freckles are something I never knew I could fall for. I used to believe in pain as the muse for all artwork, But I'm writing today because I've never felt more at home. There has been a shift in my heart and I'm no longer afraid of this person I'm becoming. I am growing into the shape of someone filled with love.

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Sep 27, 2016

Sep 27, 2016 at 11:36 AM UTC

md

I Love Her

This is the kind of feeling that is best described in stores from successful authors and movies starring famous actors. I don't have the capacity in my vocabulary to expand my thoughts beyond the words, "I love her," And I mean it, I really love her. I am looking at her in awe because freckles are something I never knew I could fall for. I used to believe in pain as the muse for all artwork, But I'm writing today because I've never felt more at home. There has been a shift in my heart and I'm no longer afraid of this person I'm becoming. I am growing into the shape of someone filled with love.

8

"Does it ever stop hurting?" No, I'm afraid not. Broken frames of deteriorating people Walk along the side of the road Praying for someone to crash their car Into the hollowness of their chest And we breathe the same air as everyone else Oxygen in, Carbon dioxide out, But we know it's different Nothing we exhale will ever have a soft touch On the earth People walk, We stomp There's a seeking inside our souls For something irrevocable But people are known for their fleeting As we are known for our sorrow "Does it ever stop hurting?" No, The bleeding will never end.

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Aug 31, 2016

Aug 31, 2016 at 4:34 AM UTC

md

we are light years ahead of everyone else and we promise to shake this earth to its core

"Does it ever stop hurting?" No, I'm afraid not. Broken frames of deteriorating people Walk along the side of the road Praying for someone to crash their car Into the hollowness of their chest And we breathe the same air as everyone else Oxygen in, Carbon dioxide out, But we know it's different Nothing we exhale will ever have a soft touch On the earth People walk, We stomp There's a seeking inside our souls For something irrevocable But people are known for their fleeting As we are known for our sorrow "Does it ever stop hurting?" No, The bleeding will never end.

21