nostalgiakills - Hello Poetry

I remember late nights. and golden trees by streetlights. Your hand was warm, but your breath was not. Everything was new. I was ready to explore with you. A summer later, torn photos and missed calls. We promised forever but you surrendered. I don't notice the streetlights anymore and it's too cold to walk at night. but if you called, I'd be on the next flight.

0

Dec 9, 2020

Dec 9, 2020 at 8:33 PM UTC

nostalgiakills

Six

I remember late nights. and golden trees by streetlights. Your hand was warm, but your breath was not. Everything was new. I was ready to explore with you. A summer later, torn photos and missed calls. We promised forever but you surrendered. I don't notice the streetlights anymore and it's too cold to walk at night. but if you called, I'd be on the next flight.

14

My head filled with broken fantasies of a life once lived and a love since forgotten. My fingers dancing among these keys wishing to not wipe any more tears. My hair, dark and unruly, clinging to my scalp and praying for permanence upon my head. My stomach, looking so heavy and full, but feeling so empty. My nails, bitten down till blood; wondering if the polish will protect them from my nerves. It's a broken body, but mine. It is a temple crushed by time and nature. Not worthy of worship, not even by it's own god.

0

Nov 17, 2020

Nov 17, 2020 at 2:55 AM UTC

nostalgiakills

five.

My head filled with broken fantasies of a life once lived and a love since forgotten. My fingers dancing among these keys wishing to not wipe any more tears. My hair, dark and unruly, clinging to my scalp and praying for permanence upon my head. My stomach, looking so heavy and full, but feeling so empty. My nails, bitten down till blood; wondering if the polish will protect them from my nerves. It's a broken body, but mine. It is a temple crushed by time and nature. Not worthy of worship, not even by it's own god.

8

Oh, lovely kintsugi, How ugly I feel when you've broken me. I'm shattered glass; Useless and troublesome. No use cleaning me up; I'd only draw blood. And here you come, with all your golden laquer, making me feel whole again. How beautiful I feel when you've fixed me. Oh, how it makes me wish I could forget that you're the one holding the hammer.

0

Nov 17, 2020

Nov 17, 2020 at 2:42 AM UTC

nostalgiakills

four.

Oh, lovely kintsugi, How ugly I feel when you've broken me. I'm shattered glass; Useless and troublesome. No use cleaning me up; I'd only draw blood. And here you come, with all your golden laquer, making me feel whole again. How beautiful I feel when you've fixed me. Oh, how it makes me wish I could forget that you're the one holding the hammer.

11

Why is there a time limit to hurting? Why can't I cry anymore? At what point did I go from pitied to pathetic? When did everyone move out of the house and leave me to rot with the skeletons in the closet?

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Nov 13, 2020

Nov 13, 2020 at 8:05 PM UTC

nostalgiakills

three.

Why is there a time limit to hurting? Why can't I cry anymore? At what point did I go from pitied to pathetic? When did everyone move out of the house and leave me to rot with the skeletons in the closet?

4

if tomorrow is our last day can it be as beautiful as the forever you once promised me?

0

Nov 10, 2020

Nov 10, 2020 at 12:13 AM UTC

nostalgiakills

two.

if tomorrow is our last day can it be as beautiful as the forever you once promised me?

3

I'm drowning. Bubbles escape my mouth and my hands try to catch them. As if I could shove them back down my throat. Not to breathe, but to let out one last scream. If I wanted to breathe, I'd grab the life ring flailing above me.

0

Nov 9, 2020

Nov 9, 2020 at 7:54 PM UTC

nostalgiakills

one.

I'm drowning. Bubbles escape my mouth and my hands try to catch them. As if I could shove them back down my throat. Not to breathe, but to let out one last scream. If I wanted to breathe, I'd grab the life ring flailing above me.

5