Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Pea Jul 2014
Hi
I am happy that you exist
though i am not that i do
Those, this, and more superficial so-called poems coming.
Pea Jul 2014
Tonight i can't write any sad poem, let alone the saddest one. But, typing this makes me realize, how sad this font is. Oh, Eliot, why did you? It looks like it needs a warm hug despite its fear of touch. Oh, oh my, you didn't know it is scared of being touched? It never told you? How insensitive of you. It has told you all, but you refused to listen to the silences. Ah. Why at times like this i remember Dave Pelzer.

I once read a story about this boy. No, not Dave Pelzer. I don't remember his name. But i remember him. He didn't like to be touched. His dad respected it and didn't ever hug him. Instead they spread their fingers out in a fan and connected them to show their love. Slight touch was okay. And enough. The boy knew he was loved.

Um, so, you know, i couldn't find this font's fingers. Can you please tell it that it is loved?

But. But this font is too sad. It will not believe you. Not now. Not later. Not ever. Knowing this makes me sad. But i can't write it out. I am not Pablo Neruda. Tonight i just can't write any poem, let alone a sad one, let alone the saddest one.

Let this font speak it all.
Pea Jul 2014
i
i am healthy
i am happy
i am full of energy
so strong
like a ship
and the storms that come to me
are just like slight wind
nothing can wreck me
and i believe
i am beautiful
no matter what they say to me
i am the butterfly, i am the phoenix, i am the sky
i am the universe
you all live inside me
i am unique
i am irreplaceable
such a gem i am
so special
i shine bright
my smile is sunshine
my eyes have moonlight
my heart is a home for everyone
my soul is sea tides
my brain hates ignorance
i am witty
and so funny
i am now telling
the joke of the day
not yet finished
all audiences gone
they do not understand
this is the real comedy
really, i really have no sense
of others' sense of humor
Pea Jul 2014
i was collecting pieces of the freedom
putting them here and there
on the iron, the calcium, and water
and every one meter on the soul
but then i realized
how ***** my thoughts are
how cruel i am
how could i trap the freedom
inside these bones and soul?
the freedom
is the most important
to the freedom
the freedom deserves the freedom
so i set it free
Pea Jul 2014
hating words
i said to myself
but don't remember
what
separated by a glass door
i was outside
i was inside
which of i was really i?
i saw me
trapped outside
absorbing darts of
hatred
such an unacceptable self
i couldn't go in
i couldn't enter
i wouldn't let me to
pools of tears
but eyes not blurry
i still could see clear
i still could feel and hear
the hatred
the muted screams
all the stabbing feelings
invisible wounds, transparent blood
the anger
the fears
what am i afraid of?
it's me
it's me which i am afraid of
oh come on
who is this me and this i?
stop making fun of
me????
Pea Jul 2014
ii.

my heart stops
at the bus stop
it is a jam
that has no end
other than of the world
Pea Jul 2014
there is nothing real
your nostrils are one wormhole
and the pores on your face
are small hidden volcanoes
they can errupt any time
though they are just bunch of inactive ones
there is nothing real
not even your fears
that keep you awake for seven years
under the stars who let you burn
in the cold nights when
owls decide to sleep
------
yes i do
i love you too
------
there is nothing real
the bats, the crows
the knife, the bubbles
instead of pearls
flowers are growing out of tears
it makes me happy
like smiling never felt this easy
paint my face pink and orange
dunk my head in stale milk
i am growing peacock feathers
and claws of a phanter's
falling out of a window
there is nothing real
Next page