underthesheets - Hello Poetry

I would rather you I would rather us Than people, than places, than things Than my world or yours My words against yours I would rather us Us always, I would rather you Just you, just us and possibly nothing, everything and all in between I would rather it'd be us Here, now choose me Come home if I'm worthy of such Please come home Come back to us

0

Nov 8, 2022

Nov 8, 2022 at 11:12 AM UTC

underthesheets

us

I would rather you I would rather us Than people, than places, than things Than my world or yours My words against yours I would rather us Us always, I would rather you Just you, just us and possibly nothing, everything and all in between I would rather it'd be us Here, now choose me Come home if I'm worthy of such Please come home Come back to us

14

How do I tell you, save me? How do I say it without words? How do I manage without drowning; Without me consuming you No one ever bothered to listen So I learned to suffer silently Everything eating away everything I had to be strong because no one else would But for now, would you? Be strong for me? Will I ask you to fight battles I grew weary of fighting? Will you still be with me then?

0

Jul 4, 2022

Jul 4, 2022 at 12:36 AM UTC

underthesheets

Underwaters

How do I tell you, save me? How do I say it without words? How do I manage without drowning; Without me consuming you No one ever bothered to listen So I learned to suffer silently Everything eating away everything I had to be strong because no one else would But for now, would you? Be strong for me? Will I ask you to fight battles I grew weary of fighting? Will you still be with me then?

12

It moves above us still The sky a mass of blue Masked by hovering whites It moves above us still As we run, as we walk, as we kiss, as we jump As we cry, as we lie Sometimes darker, but ever constant – blue It floats above oblivious though seeing It waits for us, prays for us, laughs at us Till it touches us, it moves above us.

0

Oct 10, 2021

Oct 10, 2021 at 2:42 AM UTC

underthesheets

Sky

It moves above us still The sky a mass of blue Masked by hovering whites It moves above us still As we run, as we walk, as we kiss, as we jump As we cry, as we lie Sometimes darker, but ever constant – blue It floats above oblivious though seeing It waits for us, prays for us, laughs at us Till it touches us, it moves above us.

10

Out beyond the border lies my lover He waits, inviting, miles over under streetlights He hides singing in the shadows In low grunts and silent hymns I seek my lover; I dive deep and deeper Out there lies freedom Below the dark cloak illuminated by the business it encompasses Built with stones, roads, homes, people Walking, talking, mad and kind Here is freedom packaged in suits It struts in hand in hand harmony with commodity Out there, there's wailing Youthful faces rising from noise, sweat, smoke and glee Here is a place of endless wonder Packed with the unknown and the unremembered Here they shout, kick, dance, laugh, fight We find our corners, our friends, our highs and escape We are found by blind touches, caution, surrender, and strangers Out there is an undiscovered plain Across the river, my lover's secret lying in dirt and mud Here lights shine less bright Here a son cries in hunger Here a mother cries of pity Here a father cries in isolation He puffs, scavenge, runs, click-bang! Here there is a hunger Of poverty hidden in silence My lover behind concrete, metal, wood I am kissed in narrow streets and gifted security I've touched my lover, over, between, and under All his parts and places The stink of his skin clings to mine As we lie, finally together, I am home He is home, both cool and warm As dawn approaches, my lover leaves, occupied Here is day Romanticized by the searching smoke of crafted beans and mindless denial clanking I cannot see my lover amidst the light He has retreated to his shadows impatient for the night Until we meet, I am left with these sheets Our shapes dancing through moonlight, laughter, and sleep Out there lies reality One hand slaps unto another A ding-cring-dong Run!

0

Sep 28, 2021

Sep 28, 2021 at 4:10 AM UTC

underthesheets

Affair

Out beyond the border lies my lover He waits, inviting, miles over under streetlights He hides singing in the shadows In low grunts and silent hymns I seek my lover; I dive deep and deeper Out there lies freedom Below the dark cloak illuminated by the business it encompasses Built with stones, roads, homes, people Walking, talking, mad and kind Here is freedom packaged in suits It struts in hand in hand harmony with commodity Out there, there's wailing Youthful faces rising from noise, sweat, smoke and glee Here is a place of endless wonder Packed with the unknown and the unremembered Here they shout, kick, dance, laugh, fight We find our corners, our friends, our highs and escape We are found by blind touches, caution, surrender, and strangers Out there is an undiscovered plain Across the river, my lover's secret lying in dirt and mud Here lights shine less bright Here a son cries in hunger Here a mother cries of pity Here a father cries in isolation He puffs, scavenge, runs, click-bang! Here there is a hunger Of poverty hidden in silence My lover behind concrete, metal, wood I am kissed in narrow streets and gifted security I've touched my lover, over, between, and under All his parts and places The stink of his skin clings to mine As we lie, finally together, I am home He is home, both cool and warm As dawn approaches, my lover leaves, occupied Here is day Romanticized by the searching smoke of crafted beans and mindless denial clanking I cannot see my lover amidst the light He has retreated to his shadows impatient for the night Until we meet, I am left with these sheets Our shapes dancing through moonlight, laughter, and sleep Out there lies reality One hand slaps unto another A ding-cring-dong Run!

47

There it was again, the feeling lifted. For a while it felt like the bell jar was closing. It’s like being stuck in a loop without knowing how you got there, and you try to break free but it’s your body and mind that fails you. You’re stuck there on the floor, and it’s quicksand. Sometimes the weight is lifted by laughter, sometimes by a walk, a show, a song, a shower; sometimes it takes a day, sometimes a week, most of the times, more. The battle is also a loop. And when you finally find clarity, it dawns on you, like the first sunlight after days of storm. It is hopeful. When everything is loud, all I long for is the quiet corner. But I fear my thoughts, I don’t visit them frequently, they tend to be too loud, too intense, and once I face them, they need time to simmer, to cool down. I have avoided romance, denied myself even the thought of it, turned it down and told the world it’s unessential. I’ve worked and waited on my conditions. Love was an award, and I had to pass all the tests, all the levels, no matter how hard and high I made them. When I grew tired, I purged myself of it - I didn’t need it anyways. Not because I was afraid of how I looked, but because I was afraid of what lay underneath and beyond. I was afraid of failing my standards as well as theirs, I was afraid of my precious walls shattering, I was afraid of eyes and whispering, of my emotions, of what I could do, of who I could hurt, and many other things I’ve conjured into my mind. I am different like this; lock me up and one day I’d stop longing for freedom. Then it would seem that the only world I know was the one created for me, created in four corners, confined in gold. I would accept this, and much less because I have been dirt many many times before. I tell myself, I was lower then, I did it then, I could do it again. When I was my best, fear made me cut off my wings to stay grounded. I kept thinking then, maybe I should’ve flown down rather than disabling myself. Rested for a while, maybe. This is why there’s quicksand, because now I am walking, now I am crawling. Wingless, it would take much longer, but it‘s the journey, they say, it’s the fight. In wars the one who does not advance still protects, right? I’ll take guard. I’ll move forward. In denying myself of the world, I have also denied the world of me.

0

Aug 31, 2021

Aug 31, 2021 at 1:56 PM UTC

underthesheets

The Last of August

There it was again, the feeling lifted. For a while it felt like the bell jar was closing. It’s like being stuck in a loop without knowing how you got there, and you try to break free but it’s your body and mind that fails you. You’re stuck there on the floor, and it’s quicksand. Sometimes the weight is lifted by laughter, sometimes by a walk, a show, a song, a shower; sometimes it takes a day, sometimes a week, most of the times, more. The battle is also a loop. And when you finally find clarity, it dawns on you, like the first sunlight after days of storm. It is hopeful. When everything is loud, all I long for is the quiet corner. But I fear my thoughts, I don’t visit them frequently, they tend to be too loud, too intense, and once I face them, they need time to simmer, to cool down. I have avoided romance, denied myself even the thought of it, turned it down and told the world it’s unessential. I’ve worked and waited on my conditions. Love was an award, and I had to pass all the tests, all the levels, no matter how hard and high I made them. When I grew tired, I purged myself of it - I didn’t need it anyways. Not because I was afraid of how I looked, but because I was afraid of what lay underneath and beyond. I was afraid of failing my standards as well as theirs, I was afraid of my precious walls shattering, I was afraid of eyes and whispering, of my emotions, of what I could do, of who I could hurt, and many other things I’ve conjured into my mind. I am different like this; lock me up and one day I’d stop longing for freedom. Then it would seem that the only world I know was the one created for me, created in four corners, confined in gold. I would accept this, and much less because I have been dirt many many times before. I tell myself, I was lower then, I did it then, I could do it again. When I was my best, fear made me cut off my wings to stay grounded. I kept thinking then, maybe I should’ve flown down rather than disabling myself. Rested for a while, maybe. This is why there’s quicksand, because now I am walking, now I am crawling. Wingless, it would take much longer, but it‘s the journey, they say, it’s the fight. In wars the one who does not advance still protects, right? I’ll take guard. I’ll move forward. In denying myself of the world, I have also denied the world of me.

7

But if you do, if you happen to see my shadow when you close your eyes Will you hear my call, will you remember my laughter Clear enough to miss me, strong enough to seek me If I am lost, will you come save me If all my ellaborate pieces shatter, stuck in between the further Disappear with me I was brave, I was bold, now I am crippled And all I have are words, and echoes, and wind, and light The wind carries the echoes of my words Listen, leave and find a life worth living Bask in the light, buring until we're both ashes Carried over by our wind, echoed all over Everything all at once, and nothing altogether

0

Apr 15, 2021

Apr 15, 2021 at 4:34 AM UTC

underthesheets

Call

But if you do, if you happen to see my shadow when you close your eyes Will you hear my call, will you remember my laughter Clear enough to miss me, strong enough to seek me If I am lost, will you come save me If all my ellaborate pieces shatter, stuck in between the further Disappear with me I was brave, I was bold, now I am crippled And all I have are words, and echoes, and wind, and light The wind carries the echoes of my words Listen, leave and find a life worth living Bask in the light, buring until we're both ashes Carried over by our wind, echoed all over Everything all at once, and nothing altogether

13

I desire to leave, to disppear, to slip quietly into the night On the last bus out, to the last possible stop Discreetly removing the trail as I go And with it every memory I left behind When the sun rises, so will they And there'd be nothing left of me No clothes, no books, no wall marks No face, no voice, no tingle of a touch I was there, now I am here Burn everything old and get lost in the new

0

Apr 13, 2021

Apr 13, 2021 at 11:53 PM UTC

underthesheets

Leave

I desire to leave, to disppear, to slip quietly into the night On the last bus out, to the last possible stop Discreetly removing the trail as I go And with it every memory I left behind When the sun rises, so will they And there'd be nothing left of me No clothes, no books, no wall marks No face, no voice, no tingle of a touch I was there, now I am here Burn everything old and get lost in the new

10

The miles we walk the paths we take the stories we share the sisters we gain along the way

0

Mar 11, 2021

Mar 11, 2021 at 10:52 PM UTC

underthesheets

Walk with sisters

The miles we walk the paths we take the stories we share the sisters we gain along the way

4

But you have to live life! Sometimes I am overwhelmed of how much life we can live How many laughters and smiles we can share How much joy we can bring This world, no matter how unfortunate, will always have something good In the little things, the way we wake up, make our coffee, share a ride with stragers in the bus, the way we know we are much closer to home at dusk, the city lights, how we struggle with our keys in anticipation of rest, and how we close our eyes for a well deserved break All innately good, aways on the verge of great And how magical that its all within us to make it so

0

Mar 10, 2021

Mar 10, 2021 at 9:17 PM UTC

underthesheets

Daily

But you have to live life! Sometimes I am overwhelmed of how much life we can live How many laughters and smiles we can share How much joy we can bring This world, no matter how unfortunate, will always have something good In the little things, the way we wake up, make our coffee, share a ride with stragers in the bus, the way we know we are much closer to home at dusk, the city lights, how we struggle with our keys in anticipation of rest, and how we close our eyes for a well deserved break All innately good, aways on the verge of great And how magical that its all within us to make it so

8

When did we start living our lives by numbers Who gave us the permission to measure ourselves in ones and zeros With tables, charts, sheets, graphs When did we learn to tie our worth in our struggle and fatigue Why is our beauty and opinion in tapped fingers Where should we go? Where do we start? Within.

0

Feb 24, 2021

Feb 24, 2021 at 3:24 AM UTC

underthesheets

Within

When did we start living our lives by numbers Who gave us the permission to measure ourselves in ones and zeros With tables, charts, sheets, graphs When did we learn to tie our worth in our struggle and fatigue Why is our beauty and opinion in tapped fingers Where should we go? Where do we start? Within.

7