samantha-neal - Hello Poetry

The truth is, though; I will always have leftover feelings for you... And you, and you, and you. I put so much of myself into the time I had with you- That when the end came near- I had to leave a piece of myself with you so I'd never have to carry it around with me. And that is why: My mind always wanders back around... At some point, random memories sneak in. At some point, I remember what it felt just lay next to you. At some point, I think back to giggling along to the jokes we told. And each moment I fall all over for you, even if for a few seconds. That is why I will always have leftover feelings for you.

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Jun 5, 2018

Jun 5, 2018 at 1:35 AM UTC

Leftover

The truth is, though; I will always have leftover feelings for you... And you, and you, and you. I put so much of myself into the time I had with you- That when the end came near- I had to leave a piece of myself with you so I'd never have to carry it around with me. And that is why: My mind always wanders back around... At some point, random memories sneak in. At some point, I remember what it felt just lay next to you. At some point, I think back to giggling along to the jokes we told. And each moment I fall all over for you, even if for a few seconds. That is why I will always have leftover feelings for you.

13

It’s not always that I’m reminded of the fun we had Only sometimes when I let myself go Deep into my memories, most have faded away But a few remain Some arguments, lots of jokes and laughs, a few nights in tears And all that’s fine It’s just the less I know of you now the more it all seems faked Is my mind playing another trick on me Or is that just you Again, I fall deep into my memories Why do you block the exit?

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Mar 10, 2018

Mar 10, 2018 at 6:05 PM UTC

Deeper

It’s not always that I’m reminded of the fun we had Only sometimes when I let myself go Deep into my memories, most have faded away But a few remain Some arguments, lots of jokes and laughs, a few nights in tears And all that’s fine It’s just the less I know of you now the more it all seems faked Is my mind playing another trick on me Or is that just you Again, I fall deep into my memories Why do you block the exit?

11

I only write letters to you when the leaves change colors, My mood starts to bend as the winter wind blows in. The gardens are wilting but I'm steadily growing, Rising higher as the sunset comes earlier. Do you think the snow will come this year? Will it feel like home used to? Upwards on the map where winter is a battle between the sun and the moon; Winds chill bones, rattle teeth, and shake hands. Will the paved streets sparkle with ice as the midnight hour creeps across the sky? Think of me when you sit by the bonfires Friends will laugh along and music will dance in the smoke, But will it still feel like fall without me there?

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Oct 13, 2017

Oct 13, 2017 at 7:16 PM UTC

Another Season

I only write letters to you when the leaves change colors, My mood starts to bend as the winter wind blows in. The gardens are wilting but I'm steadily growing, Rising higher as the sunset comes earlier. Do you think the snow will come this year? Will it feel like home used to? Upwards on the map where winter is a battle between the sun and the moon; Winds chill bones, rattle teeth, and shake hands. Will the paved streets sparkle with ice as the midnight hour creeps across the sky? Think of me when you sit by the bonfires Friends will laugh along and music will dance in the smoke, But will it still feel like fall without me there?

12

Nostalgia crashed head on- Its headlights seared into my eyes and blinded me as I drove 80 down the rainy highway. The roads have always been in this same spot, But 3 months ago my stomach didn't flip and flutter as I rounded each corner Every sign didn't glow as bright red as they do right now, And the letters STOP seem to mean something more than a sturdy press on the brakes. These streets look different from behind a steering wheel.. Do I miss sitting on the passenger side, legs crisscrossed on the seat, staring out the window at the stretch of nothing Or do I miss the one who always drove the car- Route memorized, something I could never catch the hang of, I always miss this exit, he never thought twice about which one it was. I wonder if I can race nostalgia past the stop lights, Fly by when it flashes neon green- It's all meant to be left in the past anyways.

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Sep 20, 2017

Sep 20, 2017 at 1:05 AM UTC

Bonnie

Nostalgia crashed head on- Its headlights seared into my eyes and blinded me as I drove 80 down the rainy highway. The roads have always been in this same spot, But 3 months ago my stomach didn't flip and flutter as I rounded each corner Every sign didn't glow as bright red as they do right now, And the letters STOP seem to mean something more than a sturdy press on the brakes. These streets look different from behind a steering wheel.. Do I miss sitting on the passenger side, legs crisscrossed on the seat, staring out the window at the stretch of nothing Or do I miss the one who always drove the car- Route memorized, something I could never catch the hang of, I always miss this exit, he never thought twice about which one it was. I wonder if I can race nostalgia past the stop lights, Fly by when it flashes neon green- It's all meant to be left in the past anyways.

14

I can’t shake the feeling that we are not Finished. Like I’ve been writing a story, but can’t type the Ending. Conversation with you is short, and mostly Halted- By your spacious replying and conversation Unexciting. One part of me wants nothing left to do with you, While another begs you to pick up the phone so I can hear hello. One part of me wants to delete your number and text threads, While another adds an extra heart by your name and changes the pictures. One part of me wants to give the other guy a chance, While another feels guilty since there was no proper ending. Letting go seemed easy while I wrote it all out But then came time to conclude this poem

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Jul 3, 2017

Jul 3, 2017 at 10:10 PM UTC

Closing

I can’t shake the feeling that we are not Finished. Like I’ve been writing a story, but can’t type the Ending. Conversation with you is short, and mostly Halted- By your spacious replying and conversation Unexciting. One part of me wants nothing left to do with you, While another begs you to pick up the phone so I can hear hello. One part of me wants to delete your number and text threads, While another adds an extra heart by your name and changes the pictures. One part of me wants to give the other guy a chance, While another feels guilty since there was no proper ending. Letting go seemed easy while I wrote it all out But then came time to conclude this poem

16

You're never available anymore and plans are cancelled before confirmed I want you around like you were last year But, I've marked my calendar and you're not here. Strange- how you have changed Given 365 days and I'm not sure you're the same. Yes, I'm happy you've grown- sculpted yourself, And there's no denying I've changed too, But you put me on a shelf. Yet, you still hold onto me I'm unsure of what you're going to do We're becoming new people- do you agree I'm keeping a tight hold on something involving you Maybe Let's just cut the connection to start progressing Find where we should be.

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Jul 3, 2017

Jul 3, 2017 at 9:58 PM UTC

Unpublished Too Long

You're never available anymore and plans are cancelled before confirmed I want you around like you were last year But, I've marked my calendar and you're not here. Strange- how you have changed Given 365 days and I'm not sure you're the same. Yes, I'm happy you've grown- sculpted yourself, And there's no denying I've changed too, But you put me on a shelf. Yet, you still hold onto me I'm unsure of what you're going to do We're becoming new people- do you agree I'm keeping a tight hold on something involving you Maybe Let's just cut the connection to start progressing Find where we should be.

16

I'm lost in the city But I'm taking my time The streets keep talking to me They're asking how everyone can spend so much time looking down and straight ahead When a whole world grows rapidly above them Buildings grow into the stars A new styled solar system They dance among the clouds Wisping fluffs of greys and whites When I look, I know that I want to be where it all connects I am gliding down hills I am fumbling through crosswalks I am slipping past street signs because I can't keep my feet on the ground and my head from that new world

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Mar 29, 2017

Mar 29, 2017 at 11:31 PM UTC

DTX

I'm lost in the city But I'm taking my time The streets keep talking to me They're asking how everyone can spend so much time looking down and straight ahead When a whole world grows rapidly above them Buildings grow into the stars A new styled solar system They dance among the clouds Wisping fluffs of greys and whites When I look, I know that I want to be where it all connects I am gliding down hills I am fumbling through crosswalks I am slipping past street signs because I can't keep my feet on the ground and my head from that new world

14

do you remember sitting on the trampoline deep into the night hours unknown but the moon told us his story used the stars as his main characters and the sun as his lover do you remember counting blades of grass watching the patch of dirt grow larger as you pulled each peice of green seperate from the earth but got sad when i yanked the dandelion from the ground and tossed it into the driveway do you remember how cold the lake water was on my hands and how the trees seemed to have more of a conversation than we did although the park bench was fine in the moment your friends couch was where i felt we should stay and in the morning i couldnt remember the silence from before do you remember feeling like there was no end coming fast without reason feeling like each day could be something new for us feeling like you did on drunken nights laying on that small mattress do you remember feeling

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Mar 25, 2017

Mar 25, 2017 at 2:50 PM UTC

is it nostalgia or something else

do you remember sitting on the trampoline deep into the night hours unknown but the moon told us his story used the stars as his main characters and the sun as his lover do you remember counting blades of grass watching the patch of dirt grow larger as you pulled each peice of green seperate from the earth but got sad when i yanked the dandelion from the ground and tossed it into the driveway do you remember how cold the lake water was on my hands and how the trees seemed to have more of a conversation than we did although the park bench was fine in the moment your friends couch was where i felt we should stay and in the morning i couldnt remember the silence from before do you remember feeling like there was no end coming fast without reason feeling like each day could be something new for us feeling like you did on drunken nights laying on that small mattress do you remember feeling

23

I miss last summer And mattresses on the floor And empty liquor bottles And coming back for more. I miss the beginning How strange it might have seemed That the adventures I now look back on Now sit on my mind like fuzzy dreams. Your car was way too hot for me Most rides were windows down Can’t forget falling asleep in your passenger seat Whenever you drove around. Each day was nothing different Laying on that trampoline became routine But that’s what I loved the most Like in a movie, we played the scenes. I miss last summer And a room without a door And a front porch covered in people With the one that I adored.

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Mar 8, 2017

Mar 8, 2017 at 10:47 PM UTC

June

I miss last summer And mattresses on the floor And empty liquor bottles And coming back for more. I miss the beginning How strange it might have seemed That the adventures I now look back on Now sit on my mind like fuzzy dreams. Your car was way too hot for me Most rides were windows down Can’t forget falling asleep in your passenger seat Whenever you drove around. Each day was nothing different Laying on that trampoline became routine But that’s what I loved the most Like in a movie, we played the scenes. I miss last summer And a room without a door And a front porch covered in people With the one that I adored.

20

I had a dream I was in your bed Painting pictures at 3 pm We weren't together But I was still there Comfortable in the friendship we still have left You came home Started painting too We finished up Cleaned our brushes And made plans to start picture two Next weekend, then the next I nice rotation A series of paintings.

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Mar 6, 2017

Mar 6, 2017 at 2:29 PM UTC

Watercolors

I had a dream I was in your bed Painting pictures at 3 pm We weren't together But I was still there Comfortable in the friendship we still have left You came home Started painting too We finished up Cleaned our brushes And made plans to start picture two Next weekend, then the next I nice rotation A series of paintings.

14