willie-bryant-ii - Hello Poetry

Sometimes I say too much, and my hands tremble and my mind wanders, and I lose my place in the words I stored for you, and sometimes, it's not enough. Sometimes I hide my fear in the spaces between my smiles and frowns hoping the rage doesn't come today, because sometimes, I wear my fear on my sleeve. Sometimes I scream for answers, begging for the aching to subside but then I lose my footing, and accept that sometimes, the questions are enough. Sometimes you make me smile, and for a moment, just for a moment, everything makes sense, though sometimes, I just don't know. Sometimes I hope you love me and all my baggage that still hasn't been lost, no matter how many times I've taken flight and sometimes, I hope it doesn't show. Sometimes I wring my damp thoughts onto paper and watch the lines bleed into the neutral space as though that's where they belong, sometimes I swallow them before they find their way out. Sometimes I scream inside my head, because apparently, screaming out-loud makes people uncomfortable and afraid that you'll ask them for help. And sometimes, most times, I wish you would hear me.

0

Dec 11, 2013

Dec 11, 2013 at 12:30 PM UTC

willie-bryant-ii

Bare With Me, It's Complicated

Sometimes I say too much, and my hands tremble and my mind wanders, and I lose my place in the words I stored for you, and sometimes, it's not enough. Sometimes I hide my fear in the spaces between my smiles and frowns hoping the rage doesn't come today, because sometimes, I wear my fear on my sleeve. Sometimes I scream for answers, begging for the aching to subside but then I lose my footing, and accept that sometimes, the questions are enough. Sometimes you make me smile, and for a moment, just for a moment, everything makes sense, though sometimes, I just don't know. Sometimes I hope you love me and all my baggage that still hasn't been lost, no matter how many times I've taken flight and sometimes, I hope it doesn't show. Sometimes I wring my damp thoughts onto paper and watch the lines bleed into the neutral space as though that's where they belong, sometimes I swallow them before they find their way out. Sometimes I scream inside my head, because apparently, screaming out-loud makes people uncomfortable and afraid that you'll ask them for help. And sometimes, most times, I wish you would hear me.

7

I fear that one day, in between your mouth and God's ears, you'll question if I'm all you hoped I would be. I'll pace the floor, avoiding cracks that resemble your stares and try to patch up wounds, exposed since birth... I'll hope that you notice, maybe even ask why, but I know otherwise. I fear, that on the days when the closest I come to smiling is that little twitch one gets from choking back tears, you won't accept the fact that happiness, is not a coat I wear on cold days.

0

Oct 23, 2013

Oct 23, 2013 at 12:12 PM UTC

willie-bryant-ii

Fear Of Being In The Way

I fear that one day, in between your mouth and God's ears, you'll question if I'm all you hoped I would be. I'll pace the floor, avoiding cracks that resemble your stares and try to patch up wounds, exposed since birth... I'll hope that you notice, maybe even ask why, but I know otherwise. I fear, that on the days when the closest I come to smiling is that little twitch one gets from choking back tears, you won't accept the fact that happiness, is not a coat I wear on cold days.

3

They told me once, of the power of self. I tossed those words around my head till a conclusion surfaced, shipwrecked, strewn across my seas. When I asked you, aching in my speech, was it over, remember what you said? You cried, "I can't be what you need!" And in that very second I realized the only fleeting soul between us, was yours. They told me that moment would come to pass and alas after my rose-colored lenses cracked, snapping me back into my being, there it was before me with the roar of their collective voices thundering in my mind shouting, "save yourself first!"

0

Sep 23, 2013

Sep 23, 2013 at 10:44 AM UTC

willie-bryant-ii

Save Yourself, First

They told me once, of the power of self. I tossed those words around my head till a conclusion surfaced, shipwrecked, strewn across my seas. When I asked you, aching in my speech, was it over, remember what you said? You cried, "I can't be what you need!" And in that very second I realized the only fleeting soul between us, was yours. They told me that moment would come to pass and alas after my rose-colored lenses cracked, snapping me back into my being, there it was before me with the roar of their collective voices thundering in my mind shouting, "save yourself first!"

3

I was once a lucid dream, gleaming in the eyes of your fiction. Now I cling to our remains, remaining scarred. I am aware, that you no longer love me, but are you aware of the weight those words placed on my lungs, stealing my breath, threatening my life? Far be it to shout from roof tops and rejoice in my need to devour your affection, as if it were my last meal, because I never believed in fairy-tales. See, I am aware, you've moved on. But are you aware of the trail of destruction I've left, mowing through the odds and ends searching for remnants, of you?

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Sep 19, 2013

Sep 19, 2013 at 12:35 AM UTC

willie-bryant-ii

Remnants Of You

I was once a lucid dream, gleaming in the eyes of your fiction. Now I cling to our remains, remaining scarred. I am aware, that you no longer love me, but are you aware of the weight those words placed on my lungs, stealing my breath, threatening my life? Far be it to shout from roof tops and rejoice in my need to devour your affection, as if it were my last meal, because I never believed in fairy-tales. See, I am aware, you've moved on. But are you aware of the trail of destruction I've left, mowing through the odds and ends searching for remnants, of you?

5

I felt like a black rose, trampled beneath the gravel of the world, oxygen cut off, vines suffocating. Fear in my heart of the last step, and then I felt nothing.

0

Sep 19, 2013

Sep 19, 2013 at 12:32 AM UTC

willie-bryant-ii

And I Felt Nothing

I felt like a black rose, trampled beneath the gravel of the world, oxygen cut off, vines suffocating. Fear in my heart of the last step, and then I felt nothing.

1

I just want to escape, flee these street lights of a borrowed city I could never call "Home" and lose myself once more in the trap of searching. Fate leaning on mislead dreams could only hope to be more serene... Nevertheless be patient, I may let you dwell in my existence for a while longer. If only to feel content that much longer, haunted by the nightmare of my proverbs never being more than soliloquies.

0

Sep 19, 2013

Sep 19, 2013 at 12:30 AM UTC

willie-bryant-ii

Flee, Just Not Yet

I just want to escape, flee these street lights of a borrowed city I could never call "Home" and lose myself once more in the trap of searching. Fate leaning on mislead dreams could only hope to be more serene... Nevertheless be patient, I may let you dwell in my existence for a while longer. If only to feel content that much longer, haunted by the nightmare of my proverbs never being more than soliloquies.

1

"If you can handle the truth... I'll tell you everything you want to know" I trembled as those cold words tumbled from her lips like ice from a shattered glass. Then I struggled to speak, grasped the air for arguments that I'd held onto for this very moment. But all I found was a sharp pain in my chest, reminiscent of the one she left as a goodbye.

0

Sep 13, 2013

Sep 13, 2013 at 12:46 PM UTC

willie-bryant-ii

Letting Go

"If you can handle the truth... I'll tell you everything you want to know" I trembled as those cold words tumbled from her lips like ice from a shattered glass. Then I struggled to speak, grasped the air for arguments that I'd held onto for this very moment. But all I found was a sharp pain in my chest, reminiscent of the one she left as a goodbye.

1

Last time I saw you, I looked away as though I didn't notice. You kept walking, Hiding your emotions, Counting your steps. We pretended, the love we once shared, never left our lips.

0

Sep 10, 2013

Sep 10, 2013 at 8:21 PM UTC

willie-bryant-ii

March, We Pretended To Forget

Last time I saw you, I looked away as though I didn't notice. You kept walking, Hiding your emotions, Counting your steps. We pretended, the love we once shared, never left our lips.

9

Today I told myself that I'd write down all the things I could never tell you. Put them in an envelope on the top shelf of the wardrobe, next to the window that entertained my self loathing. Till a sudden iron taste of blood coated my taste buds, as I bit down on my lips forcing myself to keep those words from escaping their prison.

0

Sep 10, 2013

Sep 10, 2013 at 8:18 PM UTC

willie-bryant-ii

March, No One Said It'd Be Easy

Today I told myself that I'd write down all the things I could never tell you. Put them in an envelope on the top shelf of the wardrobe, next to the window that entertained my self loathing. Till a sudden iron taste of blood coated my taste buds, as I bit down on my lips forcing myself to keep those words from escaping their prison.

3

I could tell you, on lonely nights I lay awake. Trying to remember the way your hair felt against my arm, as you slept on my chest. But I'd rather pretend the reason I'm laying alone, is because someone who won't break their promise is laying awake, waiting for the same thing. I could tell you, that I miss the way you had to stand on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on my crown. But I'd rather pretend that every one of those kisses, wasn't a prelude to the wounds you left.

0

Sep 10, 2013

Sep 10, 2013 at 8:14 PM UTC

willie-bryant-ii

March, After The Light Burned Out

I could tell you, on lonely nights I lay awake. Trying to remember the way your hair felt against my arm, as you slept on my chest. But I'd rather pretend the reason I'm laying alone, is because someone who won't break their promise is laying awake, waiting for the same thing. I could tell you, that I miss the way you had to stand on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on my crown. But I'd rather pretend that every one of those kisses, wasn't a prelude to the wounds you left.

4