stillremains - Hello Poetry

Maybe you’re just terrified that the distance will take over the already empty spaces between your words. Then again, how close are they now? Should’ve never said them in the first place. You kept infixing the wrong meanings into the almost right words and that’s how you ended up here, talking to yourself. Do they mean the same to her as they do to you? How would I know? More like “what would they mean if they didn’t mean anything to you?” Whatever that is, is exactly what they would mean to her. I hate how you always make sense to me yet I’m the one who’s called crazy when I tell people the same stuff that you tell me. Wait, are you crazy? We’ve had that conversation already. Maybe it’s because you don’t say it the way I do. Or they don’t hear it the way YOU do. Remember how you “INFIXX” the wrong meanings into the almost right words? Why would you “INFIXX” my infix? I like that word. No, it’s not a made up word. And I agree. But language is overrated. Everything we’ve ever read is just a different combination of the same twenty-six letters. Wait, why do you always do this? We were talking about her. Let’s talk about her. I like talking about her. Why are you even writing this down? I’m about to post it on the internet. Hellopoetry? This is not even a poem. You could’ve paragraphised it at least. Is that a made up word? ...yes.

0

Apr 9, 2015

Apr 9, 2015 at 5:33 PM UTC

Her at the edge of mindlessness

Maybe you’re just terrified that the distance will take over the already empty spaces between your words. Then again, how close are they now? Should’ve never said them in the first place. You kept infixing the wrong meanings into the almost right words and that’s how you ended up here, talking to yourself. Do they mean the same to her as they do to you? How would I know? More like “what would they mean if they didn’t mean anything to you?” Whatever that is, is exactly what they would mean to her. I hate how you always make sense to me yet I’m the one who’s called crazy when I tell people the same stuff that you tell me. Wait, are you crazy? We’ve had that conversation already. Maybe it’s because you don’t say it the way I do. Or they don’t hear it the way YOU do. Remember how you “INFIXX” the wrong meanings into the almost right words? Why would you “INFIXX” my infix? I like that word. No, it’s not a made up word. And I agree. But language is overrated. Everything we’ve ever read is just a different combination of the same twenty-six letters. Wait, why do you always do this? We were talking about her. Let’s talk about her. I like talking about her. Why are you even writing this down? I’m about to post it on the internet. Hellopoetry? This is not even a poem. You could’ve paragraphised it at least. Is that a made up word? ...yes.

1

Does your knife still remember the taste of my blood?

0

Apr 9, 2015

Apr 9, 2015 at 10:44 AM UTC

Backstabbed

Does your knife still remember the taste of my blood?

1

Hands tied Blind folded And in pain He sat there As she explained Explained to him The rules of the game *“Every day I’ll cut off one of your fingers, And you’ll count back From one thousand by sevens.”* Going through her drawer Of clampers and tweezers and scissors She said “Now let us, rehearse?” She took out one of her knives And oh so calmly Chopped off one of his fingers Asked “What’s one thousand minus seven?” He couldn’t hear her over his own scream She asked again “What’s one thousand minus seven?” “Nine hundred…nine hundred and ninety three.” *“Good! It isn’t that hard you see? Now I’ll be back tomorrow Oh, and this is just an experiment In ten days, we’ll see what you become.”* He sat there crying in agony Wishing tomorrow never comes But it did, and he counted “Nine hundred eighty six.” *“Do you know why I’m making you count? It’s a trick. I’ll tell you about it in the end. Don’t bother trying to figure it out, you won’t. So just keep counting till then.”* Days went by And he was counting “Nine seventy nine.” “Nine seventy two.” As he was screaming and shouting He lost all hope of freedom At “Nine sixty five.” Now the only freedom for him, was to die. After ten long days He finally knew what it was about At “Nine hundred and thirty.” She finally let it out Unashamed as she explained *“You see?” It was all just to keep you sane."*

0

Feb 25, 2015

Feb 25, 2015 at 8:39 AM UTC

“What’s one thousand minus seven?”

Hands tied Blind folded And in pain He sat there As she explained Explained to him The rules of the game *“Every day I’ll cut off one of your fingers, And you’ll count back From one thousand by sevens.”* Going through her drawer Of clampers and tweezers and scissors She said “Now let us, rehearse?” She took out one of her knives And oh so calmly Chopped off one of his fingers Asked “What’s one thousand minus seven?” He couldn’t hear her over his own scream She asked again “What’s one thousand minus seven?” “Nine hundred…nine hundred and ninety three.” *“Good! It isn’t that hard you see? Now I’ll be back tomorrow Oh, and this is just an experiment In ten days, we’ll see what you become.”* He sat there crying in agony Wishing tomorrow never comes But it did, and he counted “Nine hundred eighty six.” *“Do you know why I’m making you count? It’s a trick. I’ll tell you about it in the end. Don’t bother trying to figure it out, you won’t. So just keep counting till then.”* Days went by And he was counting “Nine seventy nine.” “Nine seventy two.” As he was screaming and shouting He lost all hope of freedom At “Nine sixty five.” Now the only freedom for him, was to die. After ten long days He finally knew what it was about At “Nine hundred and thirty.” She finally let it out Unashamed as she explained *“You see?” It was all just to keep you sane."*

49

Hot coffee Cigarette buts Sugar cubes Plastic cups Lay there Beside us As - I got high on her lips She - ran her fingers through my hair Left - me more alive than ever. We were breathing As slow as we could Hoping to slow Time down with us Hoping to be There forever As - long as we stayed She - forgot about the world Left - me more loved than ever.

0

Feb 22, 2015

Feb 22, 2015 at 10:21 PM UTC

As She Left

Hot coffee Cigarette buts Sugar cubes Plastic cups Lay there Beside us As - I got high on her lips She - ran her fingers through my hair Left - me more alive than ever. We were breathing As slow as we could Hoping to slow Time down with us Hoping to be There forever As - long as we stayed She - forgot about the world Left - me more loved than ever.

18

"Its just a room." She scribbles her secrets on the walls And piles up her whinings on the floor "Its off limits." But somehow he always finds a way in Every **** time "Nothing much to see here." But he doesn't leave No matter how boringly stuffed it gets "Its not even real." But with the two of them in there It feels more real than reality itself.

0

Feb 7, 2015

Feb 7, 2015 at 2:56 PM UTC

She says

"Its just a room." She scribbles her secrets on the walls And piles up her whinings on the floor "Its off limits." But somehow he always finds a way in Every **** time "Nothing much to see here." But he doesn't leave No matter how boringly stuffed it gets "Its not even real." But with the two of them in there It feels more real than reality itself.

12

*I just realized that all I write about is you.*

0

Jan 8, 2015

Jan 8, 2015 at 4:55 AM UTC

Untitled

*I just realized that all I write about is you.*

2

But all that comes out is a snippet of verse.

0

Jan 3, 2015

Jan 3, 2015 at 7:55 AM UTC

So much to say (10w)

But all that comes out is a snippet of verse.

1

I'll be there As the hours drift away Cherishing the time we spent together Forever and always And I’ll care Ceasing eternity every second Whispering your name in my prayers Forever and always I’ll believe Even through the dead days That there is a part of me That’s going to be in love with you

0

Jan 2, 2015

Jan 2, 2015 at 4:52 PM UTC

Forever and always

I'll be there As the hours drift away Cherishing the time we spent together Forever and always And I’ll care Ceasing eternity every second Whispering your name in my prayers Forever and always I’ll believe Even through the dead days That there is a part of me That’s going to be in love with you

12

*Can you please turn out the lights when you go?*

0

Mar 18, 2014

Mar 18, 2014 at 5:31 PM UTC

I won't ask you to stay but...

*Can you please turn out the lights when you go?*

10

Not your name Not your nationality Below all the fame Below the unreality Deep down Who are you? Forget your license Forget your authorization Forget your conveyance Forget every legal documentation Now tell me Who are you? Deep down in the dark room of your empty soul Deep down below your average conscience There are only the things you put there yourself All your unused options And the unanswered questions like 'Who are you?' Deep down below There are only feelings All your feelings That you chose to confine But it really doesn't matter who you are deep down Because nobody carries around a shovel all the time.

0

Mar 12, 2014

Mar 12, 2014 at 3:38 PM UTC

Who are you?

Not your name Not your nationality Below all the fame Below the unreality Deep down Who are you? Forget your license Forget your authorization Forget your conveyance Forget every legal documentation Now tell me Who are you? Deep down in the dark room of your empty soul Deep down below your average conscience There are only the things you put there yourself All your unused options And the unanswered questions like 'Who are you?' Deep down below There are only feelings All your feelings That you chose to confine But it really doesn't matter who you are deep down Because nobody carries around a shovel all the time.

24