Needles pressing on my neck
waiting for the skin to break
Needles pressing on my eyes
trying to reach the soul
Needles stuck into my ears
this hurts more than they know
It's not their fault
it's not my fault
it's no one's fault
relax relax relax
Needles going up my nose
The needles slowly break my blood brain barrier
become my very existence
Welcome, dear mysteries
My one and only planet is here
Here for no particular reason
We are turbulent creatures
Speckled with interesting features
Each so similar
Each so unique
Our minds race with life
The need to enjoy life
The need to create life
The need to help life
The need to live
We ebb and flow
Our tides enclose our minds
Thinking on two different sides of the same ocean
Often not in sync
We have a way
A way of including anyone
Yet excluding everyone
And this means you, hopeful friends
This means us.
This is a message for any aliens that come to earth
Sweet Yiddish whispers in my black and white slippers
Delving into daydreams of dark and desperate days
Spilling turpentine on tiles tearing me away for miles
Feeling frantic flutters in the back of my brain
Bearing backlot benches bordering the land of Spain
Roses rowing to Roman seas that no one sees
Leering lullabies of lackadaisical lovers, known to never fly
I like the way this one sounds
When I left this grey place eons ago
and the sun turned to water under my feet
the sky spit out seven horseshoes
hitting our heads in predictable defiance
and the sand turned to wind
the laughter to salt
when the world opened up
Was it really my fault?
The walls worn under my feet in the snow
who dares think badly back
the greyness left my dry blind eyes
and the haze was replaced with black
the sun sets on a cloudless skyless day
and rises on forgotten lands of warmth
trying to reach down and touch what it lost
too high up now
We’re all too dead.
What’s your interpretation of this poem?
Give me a break, god
Tell me all the things that I haven’t done right
All the ways that I’ve been a sore sight
How am I a splinter in your side
I’m trying not to just deny
I’m trying hard to leave the questions
Let the roar of peace cancel them out
But I do find that on this mission
The things I see just take me out
I’m tired of having to peoce together
All the things that I’ve done wrong
And when I die, light as a feather
My heart will sing a cleared up song
I don’t believe in god but I’m using god as a device to convey what I’m feeling. What did you like about this poem?
I went to the canyon
To see the sights
To read the writes
To meet the heights
The heights were high
The lows were right
But something didn’t click
The tears didn’t run
The breath wasn’t taken
Yeah it was cool but I’m not mistaken
I wanted to be blown off that cliff
But the wind fell short, the air was stiff
Never have I met my sense of awe
I hope we’ll meet someday
I’m holding out hope that I find my strike
That I’ll be blown away
I was trying a new style with this one. It’s more rhyme oriented. This one might seem stiff but I’ll get more comfortable with it. I want to diversity my poetry a little bit.
I used to read and write
Laugh and type
But now I can’t
And as the frustration grows
Mountainous procrastination as I try to remember
My mind can’t stop writhing
My body moving
Head saying yes
Sentences halved and mashed and forgot
As I fill filled space
The wave of papers
Books and words
That I’ve neglected
Hit me greater than before
The yells, tears, bad grades, hurt
Take me all at once
Under water, out again
Some day I’ll drown
I stopped working on this for a while and just finished it. Try to spot the stylistic difference from the times I stopped and started.
Can you sense me dear?
Taste how bitter I’ve become?
Hear our old arguments playing in my head?
See me rolling in my grave with every step you take?
Smell the corpse of our feelings rotting?
Feel my eyes burning the back of your neck?
I truly hope you can.
Feel the pain I’ve become numb to.
The sweet smell of leaves on the ground
You tell me you’re sorry
The pale sky, bright and dim
I know that you’re not
The cold’s refreshing sting
Memories of you that I can’t shed
The silhouettes of trees
You haunt me, dear
The sound of leaves blowing like rain
You know you’re wrong but you never cared
Green yellow red brown white
You gave me Autumn, I’ll give myself spring
Autumn is actually my favorite season
When we first met I told you just how beautiful you were.
Like the pale lavender sky rewarding me for getting up.
Like a diner in the distance drinking each distasteful cup.
You blinked twice and told me that you weren’t so sure.
Your disarray was perfect, repulsive with allure.
You were fighting through the crowd like a nectar drop through moths.
Everything was terrible, your good was just enough.
And I loved every little quirk that others just endured.
On the day you broke the glamour I was lying in my bed.
You were sending me letters saying all the things that I have done
The sudden rush of inputs started streaming through my head.
My world was dark already, with you as the sun.
And as the sun did set that evening, sinking down like lead,
the brightness of my colors dulled with everything I've done.
Ooh a petrarchan sonnet, how fancy. TBH we’re learning about Petrarchan sonnets at school and I was inspired by that. What can I do to get better?
The passion infused plucking
like each note has a soul of its own
The high notes like pinpricks
Low notes like a loud heartbeat
The sound of content loneliness that taught me happiness
The tempo slows like water shying away from the shore
Peace born out of urgency
Love born out of technicality
The hours given to the tone, timing and tempo
The effort in perfectly letting go
Perfectly unique every time
just close enough to be the same
The beauty in form
The form in beauty
I would love some constructive criticism
Do you remember when you thought you loved me?
The confused expression on my face must’ve been disheartening
I didn’t understand
You were so beautiful
So absolutely amazing
I was just a girl
Riddled with scars
Afraid of failure
Already burnt out
It killed me when I realized
You weren’t in love
You were exposed to so many unattainable expectations
It wasn’t love
It was hope of love
Hope of at least meeting expectations
You were already flying above expectations, my dear
I love you
Critisizm is welcome, I want to get better. Just don’t be unnecessarily mean please.
You love sunsets
They’re pretty and predictable
Yet one can never predict what they will be
I love the way light hits your face
Your illuminated greatness
Seeing your expression from moment to moment
You like the bright blue sky
No clouds in sight
So stable and bold
I see the sun in your eyes
You could outshine it any day
If the clouds don’t come in
You like the overcast sky
Bright grey brings out all the colors
Harsh yet so forgiving
I see your mind racing as we drive miles of overcast
The colors underneath are brilliant
You are the light source of my life
The way your colors change from moment to moment
Your bright mind shines out
Your emotions like different cloud formations
Your beautiful words shower me with light
I wouldn’t make it without you
I wrote this one a while ago and thought it might be good
When you and I met
we were two new souls
already rotted with the years that had been prematurely pushed onto us.
We were already so empty of life
so jaded and hopeless.
The feeling of knowing just how bad it is
but needing to keep quiet had already plagued us for too many years.
When you and I met
I thought you were arrogant and cruel
you thought I was apathetic and content.
All the late night conversations
the confessions of traumas and thoughts
the people out there who just wanted to take advantage of our seeming naivety
made us each other’s closest allies.
But the world is cruel
and it forced you out
all the uncountable hours
I had spent talking to you
the inside jokes and the utmost secrets
out the window
more like off the bridge.
You saw the world through warped glasses
twisting everything into an ugly blur.
There were times when you were almost lost
but you reached out just in time to be pulled along.
I say that I could never know the way you felt
but oh how I felt your beautiful consciousness extinguish that evening when I heard the news
read your last work as a writer
the last line of your personal story.
All I can tell you is this sorry excuse for an apology
I used you just like the rest of us did
you were the reason that I’ve lived this long
maybe if we’d never met
never shared our inner workings
you would still be here and I’d be coating the bottom of the overpass.
Now that I know I couldn’t help you, a goddess compared to my filth
what meaning does my life still have
I’ve never been this emotional about a death
they’re all so predictable and ordinary
just another horrible person lost, swimming in the Styx
But this time you’ve pulled me into the water with you.
— The End —