I looked into your eyes
And saw a thousand galaxies,
farther than the eye can see.
Untamed cosmos
and undiscovered planets,
holding secrets and words
that were left unsaid,
waiting patiently
for me to find it.

The caterpillar is a prisoner to the streets that conceived it.
Its only job is to eat
or consume everything around it,
in order to protect itself from this mad city.
While consuming its environment,
the caterpillar begins to notice ways to survive.
One thing it noticed
is how much the world shuns him,
but praises the butterfly.
The butterfly represents the talent,
the thoughtfulness,
and the beauty within the caterpillar.
But having a harsh outlook on life
the caterpillar sees the butterfly as weak
And figures out a way to **** it to his own benefits.
Already surrounded by this mad city,
The caterpillar goes to work on the cocoon
which institutionalizes him.
He can no longer see past his own thoughts.
He’s trapped.
When trapped inside these walls
certain ideas start to take roots;
Such as going home, and bringing back new concepts
to this mad city
The result?
Wings begin to emerge,
breaking the cycle
of feeling stagnant
Finally free,
the butterfly sheds light on situations
that the caterpillar never considered,
ending the eternal struggle.
Although the butterfly,
and caterpillar are completely different,
they are one and the same.

Your patchy, stubble beard
grinds on my cheek.
My eyelids shutting,
you carry me to the kitchen.
I admit I am missing the rest of the film.
My childhood
slipping through the grips of my hand,
like silk or sand.
You would never gauge
what i'd do to go back in time.

There is a galaxy in your eyes.

I want to
destroy the world
that destroyed me.

Her eyes bounce off the indigo sky
As she fumbles her words.
I can tell that you don't speak English.
I can tell that you want to be yourself;
but you secretly
hold it back.
I guess that's what me and you have in common;
This fear
of being hurt again
by the world you loved so much.
You tell me all of your secrets without parting your lips.
You can tell that I'm in love with you.
You can tell that I want to say it to you.

I'm done pretending like I'm alright
That I have a story to tell.
I'm still searching
in the fog of my soul
save me+

Do you still think of me?
Why do I still love you?
Why should I care?
You didn't.

This is not a poem
I wanna learn how to be good at poetry.
Anyone got any tips?
How does your creative process work?
Everyone on hellopoetry is amazingly creative. I really love yall stuff yes you reading this :)

Reminiscent winds
of when my heart stopped
when our eyes met.
The leaves,
climaxing a beautiful,
yet tragic life,
fall.
The wind screams,
warnings,
foreshadowing the harsh winter.

Your passion,
burning past the surface,
submerges my heart into a pit of lava;
Drowning my sense of self control.
My body,
often anxious and impatient,
releases into the waves
of the night.

My hands are eyes,
exploring your undiscovered temple,
which is your body;
Observing every curve,
every detail,
of your raw beauty.
Our eyes are hearts,
and I stare at you.
You stare at me,
staring at you.

The sun shines on your face.
The wind is still,
like my heart when you said,
"I love you."
If your heart had a song,
it would be the beautiful orchestra
of song birds and wind chimes.

How did I
End up
Just as bad
As you?

I look for you
in everyone.

And then the tears come.
The endless waterfall,
streaming from a broken heart.
That stinging sensation
within my heart,
throbbing and spreading
through my body.

I never wanted that day to end.
The sun would set,
and the birds would sing
in the unnoticed background.
We walking through a corridor
made of vines and leaves,
like a castle, leading into an open field.
Out hearts sensed departure arising,
and feared it's presence;
so we got one last taste.
a montage of affection,
revels of heart stopping ecstasy,
filling out bodies,
encouraging our hands,
to trace planets,
galaxies,
around the kingdom that is our bodies.
But, we knew departure was inevitable,
so our hearts slowly,
but surely,
left.

You lay there,
in a bed of wildflowers and dandelions,
In a daze of weightlessness.
It's almost as if,
you were dreaming,
but was never aware of it.