Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
When I'd wake alone in bed at 4am
Again
To find you passed out
on the couch
Too wasted to notice
the heart breaking in front of you
I tried every day
But you preferred synthetic hugs
and to hide in a place
where the expectations were low  
Escapes and excuses
more alluring than I could ever be
Through tears I would plead
'Why don't you want to sleep with me!?'
I shouldn't have taken it so personally

But nobody saw me cry
Especially not you
Blind to my own tears
Large doses of denial dished out
A feast for the masses
Perhaps the most powerful drug of them all
My soul mate disappeared
each day
a little more

Maybe today will be different
Hope
The beautiful motivator
Maybe today
It will be me that you choose
Naively believing
that you had control
But then I woke
alone in bed at 4am
Again
Manipulated and used
March 26th 2017
Why is it that
you had always left me alone
always leaving me for others
always leaving me because I wasn't
enough?

Why is it that
when you needed help
I would do anything for you
but when I needed you
you'd never respond?

Why is it that
you made plans with me
but when I came
you were nowhere to be found?

Why is it that
I'd get blamed
for things you'd done
but not a simple sorry nor thank you
came out of your mouth?

Why is it that
I'm so patient with you
sitting through everything
trying my best for you?

Why is it that
I'd fall
for the same lies
again and again?

Why is it that
I love you?
 Apr 2017 SteffyWeffy
Mary-Eliz
What have you done
to the words?
I know them.
I recognize them.
I've even formed them
on my lips
or scrawled them onto paper.
They are the same words!
letters assembled
in predefined form,
but from your lips
they become
pure spirit. They flow
outside
the form.
Spilling out,
they fill the universe.

What have you done to the words?
Your pen,
your lips,
your soul,

how much they must hold!
Inspired to post this when March 28 Daily ("The Poet" by Sjr1000) reminded me of it. A whole different perspective from the writer listening to other.
 Apr 2017 SteffyWeffy
Cold-Bones
I'm so **** sick and disgusted of writing every poem about you.
            It brings me close to hatred, but that is an emotion I don't believe
                                      In.
If you closed your eyes
just for a second
we would all be the same
we would be equal
tall
short
fat
thin
happy
sad
black
white
None of this would matter
because we would all be the same
but are we really?
are we all just the same?
this is a good question
because I don't know
Now,
just for this second
this second of silence
try to imagine this place
the place of equality
can you see it?
And then you follow me to bed,
rest your head on my chest
And I think to myself:
'My sweetheart
is finally here.'
The people that I know
Only acknowledge the big things
and push away the smaller things
as if there wasn't enough room for the smaller things
as if I didn't matter

I tried so hard
sending gifts
sending letters
remembering birthdays
remembering the little things

All they ever did was grunt
and heave
and sigh
because my efforts were too small

Christmas, birthdays, vacations
I had something for everything
and I gave everything I had
Not even one thank-you

All I really wanted
were for them to be happy
eventually giving almost everything
Everything that I owned
to see them smile

But they never did
They just commented
"This one is smaller than your last one"
And I'd just stand there
Stunned
Next page