there’s not much to say;
i wish i could hold you close and dear
but at arm’s length, you are far beyond reach
i cannot feel your breath against my neck
i cannot feel your hands around my waist
yet we crave every inch of touch
we crave for each other’s taste
it’s such a tragedy to fall into
a love so fragile and secure
but is it love, lust or loneliness?
or are we merely avoiding the question?
are we drowning,
just for the sake of making one another feel whole?
do these hands and smiles revolve around misguided truths?
are your words cloaked in lies or are mine disputed moves?
i guess we will never know
(n.j.)
Feb 18, 2017
Feb 18, 2017 at 9:24 PM UTC
drifty blazed eyes open the skies
to be carried along currents of floating lullabies
a soul to suspend on teardrops instead of buildings,
clouds instead of windows, embodying birds instead of foreign creatures
---- i shift my exterior and fall into embrace
into the knowledge of good and evil
for i am with Her
(n.j.)
Dec 3, 2016
Dec 3, 2016 at 5:28 AM UTC
rainbow pills and broken filters
tips and pockets filled with wine
breath so bitter, lips so broken
digging nails and brittle smiles
first light viewing with ticking wrists
5 am to smoking hills
bedded greens surround our feet
fading in with the best company
(n.j.)
Nov 30, 2016
Nov 30, 2016 at 4:31 AM UTC
with a weak heart, she smoked a ton
paired with weak lungs and an alcohol craving of ten men
god knows when she'll drink herself to death
"but not today, not tonight", she said to herself
n.j.
Oct 19, 2016
Oct 19, 2016 at 10:24 AM UTC
On a Sunday Morning, past midnight at 2
The curtains danced to the faint blowing of an open window,
Welcoming the soft serenade of a young born season.
Tenderly brushing against the moon-kissed concrete and cemented barriers,
Awake was a soul secluded yet only six inches laid between them.
Surrounded by a hedge of sturdy bookshelves and custom-made decors
The soul watched their towers dominate over their demons,
Certain of the security and what they had to offer.
Needless to say, this was their safest haven,
A place they can call their own.
But there was something reassuring
About the subtlety of the melody that played
On a Sunday, past midnight at 2 in the morning.
The air breathing in life into crisp pages
And knocking gently, elegantly on the tempered surfaces
Although life only played behind a curtain,
Hands that held only books and pens,
Eventually craved for the outside’s blessing
And awake was a soul patiently waiting for its turn.
(n.j.)
Sep 10, 2016
Sep 10, 2016 at 9:51 PM UTC
there is nothing beyond nor over
the sheets remain cold and empty
i am buried under
the tables are rotting
my knees, shivering despite the comfort
but what is comfort when everything is fabricated?
and coated in complete isolation?
(n.j.)
Sep 10, 2016
Sep 10, 2016 at 1:54 PM UTC
i took a route to eastwood
far off the end of a road that does not exist
i took a route
and was enticed by the aroma of growing freedom
kempt and hidden, underneath the soil and concrete
it was numbers away and off the grid
a name, almost too ordinary and typical
of what it offered, i did not know
but the uncertainty was what kept me going
a motivation for my augmenting footsteps
a sense of clarity for my clouded reasons and thoughts
i took a route to eastwood
far off the end and beyond the bustling surface
i took a route
and was enticed by the introverted trees featured alongside the lonely roads
of what it offered, i wasn't sure
but i welcomed the idea of a new beginning with open arms and an open heart
and a certainty for happiness
(n.j.)
Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 7:01 AM UTC
***i've been in a bad headspace for days so i decided to write a poem (untitled #17) but was unable to finish it yet despite feeling low i wanted to distract myself and not dwell on the bad thoughts. i thought i saved the poem as a draft but it turned out i posted it which in return received a lot of likes and a few comments.
so here is the continuation of the poem that i managed to finish during class:***
i woke up with a pain in my chest
a frantic pulse, beating and beating
i feel as though i've reached my end
my once dead now awakened cravings
are all that i have left
there is this hopelessness that refuses to subside
no matter *what i offer or wish to abide
i cling to the funeral my mind
continues to fantasize
because no death is beautiful,
no cover up could disguise such hardships
and crumbling torment we hide*
(n.j.)
Sep 4, 2016
Sep 4, 2016 at 10:03 PM UTC
i woke up with a pain in my chest
a frantic pulse, beating and beating
i feel as though i've reached my end
my once dead now awakened cravings
are all that i have left
there is this hopelessness that refuses to subside
no matter
Sep 2, 2016
Sep 2, 2016 at 7:51 PM UTC
as dusk spreads throughout,
i fall back to admire
not the zippo in hand
but the blazing fire
and the overhead skies
of the aging countryside
i taste the tenderness
of a sweet refrain,
not bitter nor sweet
i taste the yesterday
of the growing grains
and unsung poetry
my vision doesn't falter
for i see what i see
how the trees lean in closely
to the wind's whispers
and the grasping waters,
loving generously
maybe i'm selfish to only admire
to infect my body whilst
plunging in solitude,
waiting for the hours to die
but i am content,
with what i perceive
to diminish is one thing
but this, this is beauty
(n.j.)
Aug 8, 2016
Aug 8, 2016 at 7:16 AM UTC