RBHM: Poems

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RBHM Jan 2018

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I broke a little more today,
So here I am,
Writing poems,
Trying to fix the damaged.

~RBH/M

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RBHM Apr 2018

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I talked to you on the phone,
You asked for my problems,
And I told them to you,

Spilled out all the things wrong with me,
All the things right with me.

You listened.
Said nothing for a while.
And I asked for your problems.

You told me one,
The one issue that you had,
Something that didn't even have to do with you,
One thing so simple and strung together.

And in that moment,
I realized how messed up I was,
How I was a defect.

And I wished,
Silently that night,
That I had your simple life.

I also wondered,
In that cruel head of mine,
If this meant that when harsh reality catches up to you,
Your life will turn sour.

Because how else would it be fair?

Why would pain and suffering,
That I didn't deserve,
Only affect me?

~RBH/M

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RBHM Feb 2018

✧˚⁎⁺˳✧

Stars:
.
white specs
.
dimpled into the
.
spilt black ink
.
that stretches on into
.
infinite lengths
.

~RBH/M

Do you know that feeling?

RBHM Apr 2018

Do you know that feeling?

Do you know that tiny feeling,
That starts deep down in the dark hole you call a heart?

That feeling of a candle flickering before the darkness engulfs the light it sparked.

Do you know that growing feeling,
That starts to fight its way to the surface?

That feeling of a hollow space in a vacuum being filled with light, intensity, air, beauty.

Do you know that entrancing feeling,
That starts to show itself to its surrounding bodies?

That feeling of your lung's alveoli once again grasping at the air particles that have crawled their way in through you throat after a deep exhalation.

Do you know that burning feeling,
That licks at the objects surrounding it with magnified intensity?

That feeling of a fire eating at its surroundings with the heat of a thousand suns and the sounds of a million thunderclaps.

Do you know that mortifying fear,
That starts from the surface and crawls its way in, destroying all with beauty in its path?

That feeling of not knowing what'll happen next, at a time where information of the future is what keeps you grounded and fed with the emotions and senses of being alive.

Those are all the feelings of loving someone.

~RBH/M

Liking you...

RBHM Apr 2018

Liking you...

Liking you...
Is like liking acid;
I know it'll burn me,
But I can't help but pour it on my skin.

Liking you...
Is like liking leaves;
It's there for one season,
But gone for the next.

Liking you...
Is like chasing the winds;
You know you can try to follow,
But there is no way of keeping up.

Liking you...
Is like liking colors;
It has many shades with so many layers,
To peel back and watch as beauty emerges.

Liking you...
Is like running into flames;
You know you'll come out burnt,
But you also know you need the heat it provides.

Liking you....
Is all so different,
But also familiar.

Liking you...
Can not be described using all the words and phrases in the English language;
It is something new and old,
Something scary and bold,
Something that can not be untold.

~RBH/M

My Loving Mother

RBHM Dec 2017

My Loving Mother

My loving mother loves me to pieces,
She tells herself that every minute, she tells me that every day,
But my loving mother lies,
She lies without meaning to;
She doesn't love me,
She loves the idea of me;

The idea of having a daughter of her own,
A smart one, who every grown up calls pretty and sweet;
But they lie too;
I'm not sweet anymore, I've long since turned sour,
And I'm most definitely not pretty, I'm average at the very best.

So I wonder, oh loving mother,
Why do you convince yourself that you love me?
Is it because I'm all you have left?
But you don't have me, my loving mother.
I gave myself away to depression long ago.

How would you know that anyways, loving mother?
Every time I show that side of me,
You get disappointed and a look of disgust crawls its way onto your face.

So I hide it,
Cry it away,
Instead I look as though I'm happy,
For you, loving mother.

I worry instead,
Like someone who has OCD,
Dwell over little things until the panic and pain hit like a shockwave and sends me flying;
You hate that too, loving mother,
Say that I'm acting, that I can and have to stop, that I'm faking it,
Oh how I wish I was, loving mother.

You also have the tendency of showing me off, loving mother,
Why is that?
I'm no prize to be won, no medal,
So why call me your daughter out in public when you could just avoid it?

I feel bad for you, loving mother,
So I show effort,
Try to look like less of a drab,
Try to sound less crabby,
Make it seem as though I'm happy.

But sometimes I break,
The bullying tends to make me do that,
And when that happens,
I could see the anger rise on your face.
I'm sorry for that, dear mother.

I'm sorry for that and many more:
For not saying I Love You back,
For not showing more emotion,
For being something that you have to fake-love,
For not doing better in life,
For making so many enemies when you have none,
For having to be a fraud around you,
For being me.

My loving mother loves me to pieces,
She tells herself that every minute, she tells me that every day,
But my loving mother lies,
She lies without meaning to;
She doesn't love me,
She loves the idea of me.

~RBH/M

The Girl

RBHM Dec 2017

The Girl

She started this simple,
Expressing what she truly felt,
That's what got her here in the first place;
But then she got no more likes,
Not as many comments as she wanted.

And so she diverted her ways,
Copied other people to end up at the top,
"But what's the use," she asks herself.
"If reaching the top meant not knowing who you are anymore?"

She went back to normal,
Showing her true self;
All of the friends and followers she got turned on her,
Said she was changing for the worst;

They didn't understand,
None of them ever understood;
So she tried again,
Copying, being fake;
It worked.

People started calling her beautiful when they were really talking to the makeup once more,
Asking her to dates when they were really using her to be part of "The Populars."

She lived with it,
All throughout high school,
Plastering fake smiles practiced on the mirror the day before,
Wearing clothes she would've liked to burn.

She finally got a chance,
When she started her college,
To be free with who she really was.

She cut off her hair and threw out her clothes,
Got her band posters back and glued them to the dorm room walls,
Started focusing on school.

She graduated four years later,
Top of her class,
With no friends,
No life outside of her studies.

To her, it was worth it;
She felt proud with who she was,
She felt true to herself.

~RBH/M

THEM

RBHM Dec 2017

THEM

There was this boy,
With blue eyes and olive skin,
His body was rigid,
But his heart was not;

There was this girl,
With night-lock black hair and dark bruised lips,
Her face showed emotions,
But she felt nothing;

The boy had nothing to lose anymore,
All he loved was gone,
All he had left was one emotion,
It went by the name Pain;

The girl didn't know what it feels like to lose something you loved,
She never had anything worth caring for in the first place,
She was enslaved by one thing,
It bought her by the name Depression;

They both had nothing to gain or lose,
They decided, separately, to end it all on the top of a cliff,
The ******* the left side, a view of the NYC skyline,
The boy on the right side, a view of the vast graveyard;

They jumped equally, never seeing each other in the process,
Bodies hit the water simultaneously,
The boy in his black tuxedo,
The girl in her white dress;

The waves took the girl deep, deep below,
The salt-infested water rushed in and flooded the boy's lung,
Both felt pain,
So they tried to escape,
Thought there would be an easier way to do this;

The boy swam left,
And the girl swam right,
They collided with one another in the middle,
Grasping at each other;

The water settled around them as they did so,
They became life supporters without meaning to,
And as the sun dipped at its horizon,
And the stars stole the night sky;

They lay there,
Afloat,
Drifting on to their future,
Finding a reason to live in each other.

~RBH/M

The Melting Lies

RBHM Jan 2018

The Melting Lies

Ice melts,
It almost always happens.

Did you catch that?
The uncertainty in-between the written words.
Adding 'almost' gives away the secret that ice only melts at a temperature of 0 degrees or higher.

You almost always love me,
Almost always care for me,
Almost always need me,
Almost always something.

I can't blame you for it, now can I?
Blame you for the lies that I made?
For all the rumors that I spread?
For all the hatred that people feel towards you?
For hating me?

No. I can't.
That is almost always your job.

~RBH/M

The Mind & The Heart

RBHM Apr 2018

The Mind & The Heart

The war between the mind and the heart,
Is one a ****** fight,
Where soldiers are lost,
And dignity is stolen.

Whoever comes out triumphant,
Slathered in the opponent's failure,
Reveals our deepest-rooted canals of fear and needs.

If the heart makes its way out,
Limply and broken,
We know of our need to be loved for,
Or of our raging wanting to help others.

If the mind wins this round,
Fail-proof and fueled with logic,
We recognize our trepidation of seeming weak,
Or of our phobia of getting hurt.

So the next time your mind and heart brawl for the spotlight,
Shine a little bit on both,
Because light in great amounts can shatter all beauty.

~RBH/M

THE POET'S POET

RBHM Dec 2017

THE POET'S POET

They say the magnificent poems are ones pained with emotion,
My emotions have been ****** out of me;
But does that make me a bad poet?
Or does it make me a hopeless person,
Whose wounds have been shut too tightly for anything to make its way in or out?

Wouldn’t writing down thoughts still be a form of expression,
Wouldn’t this be called a good poem just because of the lack of intensity in it?

~RBH/M

The Unraveled

RBHM Jan 2018

The Unraveled

There was someone who opened people,
Unraveled them to show the inner ugliness that they hide with their skin acting like masks;

Sometimes someone will show up that makes you shed your skin,
Opens you up to the harsh world;

The thing is without our masks,
We are turtles without shells,
And turtles without shells never survive,
They're hunted and feasted on;

After he makes you leave your skin,
He prey's on you,
As if you're not humans;

As if your a fish gasping for air,
Just waiting to be plucked off and eaten;

I asked someone to unravel me,
Thought it would make my body lighter,
I was wrong;

I asked him to unravel me,
So he did.

~RBH/M

T. H. E. ~ U. R. G. E.

RBHM Dec 2017

T. H. E. ~ U. R. G. E.

Pain radiates through my body,
like blood scrapes through vessels;
Air spills out of my bare lungs,
like soft water rushing down a river;
It’s love shatters my heart,
like glass broken by a wielded, naked metal;
It grits at my body,
Like gasoline bruised by a burning flame.

              Lick at the soft temple buried in my bare heart,
                              Blaze with astonishing fire;
                    Soften at the scrape of a single whisper,
                                    Morph into dust;
         Quiver at my single touch, breath, look, voice, emotion;
             Be mine to hold stripped of shame, hesitancy, lust;
                              Be mine to hold as yourself.

                                                                                           I burn with desire,
                                                                                To feel flesh among skin;
                                                                   I urge for the need to evaporate,
                                                                                     To be inhaled by him;
                                                                 The pain that throbs in my heart,
                                                Like a vessel split loose by a burning need;
                                                                                To feel flesh among skin,
                                                                                     To be inhaled by him.

A short collection of poems.
~RBH/M

— The End —