Chloe Hunt

Dec 2017

Brittany Smith

Chosen.

Maybe if you closed your eyes,
The pain would go away,
Even if it’s for a moment,
That might be okay,
Sometimes sleep is what we need,
When our hearts are hurting,
Your heart will be relieved one day,
These flames can’t keep on burning,
I’m sorry that you feel this way,
But know you’re not alone,
I’m there with you during this hour,
I will be your stone,
Nothing in life makes sense to me,
So I can relate,
I’ve been so shattered recently,
My soul has been betrayed,
But Jesus Himself was wrongfully traded,
For 30 useless tokens,
So if God dealt you a difficult hand,
Know that you’ve been chosen.

Dec 2017

Florivee

Easy parts of me to love

Maybe, people only loved the easy parts of me;
the shallows;
the circumstance where they don't struggle.

But it's okay,

I always forbid entry every time someone tries to come near the deep borders of my soul, anyway.

#people #shallows #struggle #love #easy #hard #deep #borders #emotions #soul

Chloe Hunt Dec 2017

Three Words

“You are stupid”
words that marked my past
their laughter used as an euphemism that contains glass

Belittling me?
feeling as if at some point I agreed
making themselves feel better while putting me down
“Friends“ I would call them
amusing them as I slowly drowned

My entire life believing I was stupid
“You are stupid! You are stupid! You are stupid!”

Absorbed into my identity
as if it messed with my brain chemically
three words that pounded on my heart so heavily
the cacophony of voices that are so deadly
tampered within while changing my DNA and heredity

My bruised soul
an outcome of our society
“I am stupid”
three words
I created by their notoriety

All my life I have had friends and family treat me as if I was stupid. After a while I believed them, as if it was built into my conscious. While attending college I have gotten away from these people, and just started to realize that not only am I smart, but those people took a piece of confidence I will always struggle to gain back. This poem tells one of the most important stories about my life.

#stupidshouldbelooted

Chloe Hunt Oct 2017

Voice

His voice is the radio
his guitar is life
his eyes and mine are very bright
many don't see him
heart is pure
many don't see him
he is superman
his mood is a tornado that spins and spins
sometimes damages, that gets repaired again
two minds similar, two hearts the same
"stupid"
"worth nothing"
"where are you going?!"
"what are you doing?!"
he thinks he is a failure because he is different
but many don't see it
his walk is my pride
his talk is my stride
many can't see him
they can't hear him
"I wish I could see the angels faces when they hear your sweet voice sing"
sweet voice
sweet voice
voice sing

LOL I wrote this YEARS AGO
-About my brother :)

Chloe Hunt Oct 2017

Baby

Baby
It's quite funny actually
I think we can both agree
you are a bore
and I am most definitely not yours
strange you could say
the relationship ******
in an instant
I reconstruct
Baby
I think we can both agree
there will never
ever
again
be a "We"

Oct 2017

Lior Gavra

The Lost Moment

The moment you forget.
Mind wanders with regret.
Eyes blurred, lose focus.
“What’s my current purpose?”

Is spontaneous enough?
Chasing a dream, tough.
As a child we rushed,
what was all the fuss?

The lost moment finds.
The lost moment unwinds.
The lost moment reminds.
Messes with our minds.

In that moment there is clarity.
We connect with our reality.
Understand humanity.
Endless possibilities.
Test our comfortability.

A chance to breathe.
Rebirth and see.
Are we where
we want to be?

Take that lost moment,
to reset your focus.
To find yourself and
your new found purpose.

Oct 2017

E. E. Cummings

If

If freckles were lovely, and day was night,
And measles were nice and a lie warn’t a lie,
Life would be delight,—
But things couldn’t go right
For in such a sad plight
I wouldn’t be I.

If earth was heaven and now was hence,
And past was present, and false was true,
There might be some sense
But I’d be in suspense
For on such a pretense
You wouldn’t be you.

If fear was plucky, and globes were square,
And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee
Things would seem fair,—
Yet they’d all despair,
For if here was there
We wouldn’t be we.