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Jan 27 · 82
Poetria Jan 27
make love to the microphone
and your lips have sung this poem
without speaking a single word of it
do we speak the same language?

hazy faded daydream eyes
crinkle quietly at the sides
all I hear is you,
you are louder than my mind

but your attention is diverted
and I remember there's a crowd
the music is back,
the moment has passed
and silence is replaced with sound
Dec 2018 · 82
Poetria Dec 2018
close my eyes
and there is no sound
the waves delicately
lick my feet
and I'm rooted in my place
almost like I'm waiting,
begging for their taste

I stumble on old rocks
as they push me around
I am not drowning now
but I remember
this is how it felt
before I last drowned

close my eyes
and I feel the water
pulling me down
I'm kneeling now
and there are whispers
leaking into my ears
whispers I had given to the sea
the sea that I thought would help me

but my ears hurt
and I push to the surface
and now I am screaming
for I am the whispers
I am now all of the sea
those terrible things I carry
and the wind is biting
the air is so cold
I am only skin and bone
it is all I can feel is me
a heart losing it's beat
a voice that cannot speak
noiseless yet loud
I am the sea
I'll always write about the Sea
Poetria Dec 2018
are you the pieces put finely together,
or are you a togetherness, pulling apart?

and what lies in the in-between,
the borderlines, the crevices?

those things that bled
from your mind into hidden places

what did you lose in the battle of wits,
what did the darkness hide?
wrote this a while ago and it's just been collecting dust
Dec 2018 · 588
Poetria Dec 2018
without my secrets I am *****
the exposition would feel strange
but I am not my secrets

they are a fragile sheath
I prefer to keep tucked underneath
but they are not me

every piece of art
is defined differently
to each living being
a multitude of meanings

just like the eye
is our all-telling piece
in this gallery it speaks
a multitude of stories
I haven't written a single poem in ten months, so this is me trying to remember how to write again.
Poetria Mar 2018
You loved the stars
so the stars grew to love you
and the stars said 'stay away'
but you felt entitled to them
they said 'don't come too close'
but you persisted, you resisted
and you reached out
to take what was yours
you hurt yourself in your delusion
yet you blamed the stars
for scorching your heart;
you wrote your own tragedy
and the stars, the stars,
they will always burn
for you
I once loved someone. They loved me too, in a way. I assumed that meant their love belonged to me. But it's only a kindness to love and be loved back, I realise now, and you are not entitled to receive the love you choose to give.
Feb 2018 · 1.0k
Daisy chains or routine
Poetria Feb 2018
The only love I want to feel anymore
is the love of the Sea, of the trees, of mountains and rainbows and beautiful buildings, flowers and strangers and poetry, animals and books and art and everything alive,
everything I can only catch glimpses of, everything I need, which I don't have.

I need the love of the Earth, not it's people.
I'll start writing more seriously after my exams in May, but here's something for now
Poetria Feb 2018
we are patients in a ward
all just healing from this storm

I am tired of the mess you make
I am scared for my tomorrow
I sleep all day to stay far away
but I'm forced again to wake

how do we get better
while the storm rages on
I've found a distaste for my writing beginning to form in my heart and now my words are lifeless too. Great.
Feb 2018 · 406
stagnant waters
Poetria Feb 2018
I feel calm this time around

there are no waves left now

to accompany the melancholy

there is just a warm yellow sun

and I am a lake left in desolation

and sadness can be heard

in the silence of my being

and it is not beautiful

like the Sea
Jan 2018 · 591
Blurring the lines
Poetria Jan 2018
to traffic lights
but I know how they're
supposed to look

I walk along
a thinning kerb
frequently falling
stumbling along

nothing stops me
I stay on the edge
this line between safety
and imminent death
what punctuation? ;P
Jan 2018 · 482
No matter how I try
Poetria Jan 2018
You'll come to find
my mouth is filled with
almosts & maybes
with unspoken hellos
forgotten goodbyes
no matter how I try

I wish I could tell you
to ignore the things I say
listen to the colours in my smile
the expression of my eyes
language fails to communicate
no matter how I try
the battle with anxiety continues. it's not as romantic as all this.
Jan 2018 · 1.4k
Poetria Jan 2018
the fog is slowly clearing up
and spring is colouring the hills
I'm not chaining daisies anymore
I'm kissing yellow daffodils
inspired by troye sivan
Poetria Jan 2018
I am
a soul on stilts
a painted face
with coloured pockets
and layers of skin

I am
living in blue
thinking in green
dreaming of colours
I've never seen
Jan 2018 · 247
The artist is no vessel
Poetria Jan 2018
we are skin
we are bone
until we step
out from the comfort of our shell
until we make holes in the fabric
of our infinite depth
until we accept hurt and love
and our own mistakes
we are empty bodies
until we embrace our soul
Happy New Year guys :)
Dec 2017 · 484
In script...
Poetria Dec 2017
Let me ensnare you
here in the spaces
between these lines
pouring desire from
the recesses of my mind
let my words flow like
ice water down your spine
for in script, you are now mine
Incomplete, but I didn't like the second verse much so it is what it is :P
Dec 2017 · 333
but the poet is not poetry
Poetria Dec 2017
Perhaps I do not want to be poet
but to be the poetry
you carve into yourself
to be the thought
right before you close your eyes
to be the smile
climbing up your cheeks
to be your sunrise,
sunset, stars and sky
to be your moonlight,
and reflect your Oceanic blue
I do not know who you are anymore,
but I want to inspire flowers
from your mind
and I want to be able
to call you mine.
but she wants to be
Nov 2017 · 822
Poetria Nov 2017
trying to hide it;
indecisiveness is a curse in a world where you can either be one thing or the other
Nov 2017 · 763
Poetria Nov 2017
the composer, the symphony
the poet, the poetry
the artist, the masterpiece

the poet
is no poetry.
the artist
is no masterpiece.

the instrument,
until played,
carries no melody.

these conflicting qualities
could never meet.

I'm a poet, so I could never be the poem.
Nov 2017 · 576
Phases of the moon
Poetria Nov 2017
quiet, stolen brightness
oh, it doesn't belong to me
but this sky is your black ceiling,
I'm just trying to be seen
and I see you-
I see you-
I see you shying away, yes
every few days, there's less,
every month the same cycle,
over and over again
and you don't know
how much is too much
and you don't know
when you'll be enough
and you're stuck
cutting those pieces
and you struggle
to bring them back
back to largeness,
back to circular-
phases of the moon,

and the Sun does smirk
in the morning blue.
write this whole thing solely for the last two lines? does that make sense?
Nov 2017 · 686
but I'm not you
Poetria Nov 2017
I am bruises on your leg
I'm the backhand to your face
leaving marks, opening scars
showcasing your mistakes


light up this sky
let your fire burn this blackness,
set them off, stinging
and leave my heart ringing
with the silence surrounding
this gaping, empty space


(i push you away and i forget
but some days i look you in the eye;
it's coming back to me now)

it's back to *laughing as tears fall

it's back to shaking with fear
it's back to getting slammed into being
the smallest particle I could be

*I'm back to 9 on my birthday
or was it 8, I don't remember, 7

your fire flows
inside my blood now
something darker,
purely sinful

There is no more pain.

I have become everything you hate.
I've always loved winter.
Oct 2017 · 775
grey-green (catastrophe)
Poetria Oct 2017
big smile for the crowd,
yes, you smile for them now,
those eyes aren't allowed,
green eyes, they're so loud,
bitterly sweet, green,
laughing at me,
I'm spiralling now,
yes, I'm spiralling down
a staircase with ends
that could never meet,
and she's pretty, so pretty,
it seems meant to be,
it seems you could never
be meant for me, green.
I know, it's nothing profound.
Oct 2017 · 349
Fear and loathing
Poetria Oct 2017
Don't you exhale around me.
Don't give me that poisoned air
spilling back out of your trachea
like it's fresh and healthy,

Don't you pretend the pieces fit,
that the glass is still transparent
that this box you've built
never broke in the first place,

Don't give me your traditionalistic,
misogynistic, conservative values
and expect me to digest them
like my favourite kind of chips,

Don't you breathe in my space anymore. Don't you do that again.
I've been crying over you for over an hour you *******. Fix this.
Poetria Oct 2017
You followed me home, winking,
grinning with your yellow teeth.

I know you like your loneliness
but don't leave me here alone;
I'm in love with your melancholy,
your crevices, my home
(I stole the title from a band lyric)
Oct 2017 · 354
Sunset above the lake
Poetria Oct 2017
When our problems look smaller,
the good becomes greater,
the sky fails to fall at our feet.

Drink up the horizon,
pink stripes heading East,
the sky stays upright while it's sweet.
Sep 2017 · 528
Conscientous Remembrance
Poetria Sep 2017
My conscience
carries your voice,
it wears your face;
I'm talking to you
when I think to myself.
My heart's back but my mind may never return.
Sep 2017 · 352
Coming to a close
Poetria Sep 2017
16 years older
our faces painted over
wasting time to feel the rush
classic self-destruction
still, we are children
older, not different
pretending to be
bigger than the universe
and we are that, we are indeed-

-our facepaint glowing
a multicoloured mixture
in the sunlight now
and our heads are
loosening once again
16 years younger
as clocks chase the future
and we waste our time  
because we still can.
pretty much.
Sep 2017 · 254
Try as I might
Poetria Sep 2017
I try to be
everything she's not
as if it's almost by default
as if I hate the real truth
of her very existence,
but that's not true.

I try to be
everything she's not,
so people know
we aren't the same person,
so people know
I am my own creation.

But if I try so hard
to be this other person,
am I still myself?

Am I anybody anymore?
Still finding myself, when I think I know myself so well.
Sep 2017 · 232
Poetria Sep 2017
My heart, it beats
under influence of caffeine
and sugar pulls my smile up,
and I wonder if this is suicide
but I take my coffee with sugar,
and smile and smile and smile.
caffeine = high blood pressure
Sep 2017 · 294
Undisturbed artefact
Poetria Sep 2017
undisturbed artefact
buried in the past
as small as a button
falling from a coat

landing flat, undisturbed.

the smile of your ghost
makes me smile, sometimes sad.

undisturbed artefact
we spun like a spinning top
spiralling, twisting
no control, no turning back

undisturbed artefact,

let love lost lie, undisturbed
beneath warm sands,

let waters rage
but let the sun stay singing
let the sun never stop singing
for love that stayed behind
as lovers seldom stay in that,
an undisturbed artefact.
Excuse the punctuation.
Sep 2017 · 312
Oh blue
Poetria Sep 2017
I stand here waiting
for the stars to adopt me
waiting for the clouds
to engulf me
in their embrace- humid,
waiting for the ground
to ***** wide with a smile,
tempting, crooked; cruel.

I will drink your falling tears,
please dry your eyes, blue
and do not burn me with your acid,
they aren't good to you, fools;
*but how do you breathe
their pollution?
Inspired by acid rain...
Sep 2017 · 209
Lost in thought
Poetria Sep 2017
brighter than
the white of lightning
sharper than
the frosty Ocean gales
darker than
the darkest red of sin,
in the crevices of my mind,
you hide.
red is everything difficult, and red i loathe
Sep 2017 · 512
Truly tiring
Poetria Sep 2017
So many words
of wisdom and worth
they crowd in my head
never breaching the surface
and I tire of calling them forth;
I tire of it.

So I pull my smile down
and I sit in my silence
overcome with the exhaustion
of forcing an utterance;
I am never who I seem,
and words do not come easy to me.
Sep 2017 · 312
Somewhere else
Poetria Sep 2017
I can hear you,
the beat in your chest,
it rings in my head;
a wordless lullaby.

I wish
that you
could be mine.

But we both know creation
in the cage of my mind,
can only exist
behind my closed eyes.
(This is oddly satisfying, writing about someone who doesn't exist.)
Aug 2017 · 256
Back to black and white
Poetria Aug 2017
The world
stays black and white
until we feed it with our colours,               and we each use our own
kaleidoscope of thoughts
  to paint our different paths,
and we each use our own
coloured pencils
to sketch our different eyes,
but I stopped trying to sketch at 12,
and I haven't painted
across my small pavement
in the longest while.
I want out.
Aug 2017 · 541
a constant ringing sound
Poetria Aug 2017
and i wonder why tonight
my mind is screaming for silence
like a mockery of itself
shouting for a noiseless abyss
begging to be heard in the quiet
and i wonder why tonight
there are so many gaps
in my memory of past events
and i wonder if i lost those moments
or if i chose to throw them away
and i wonder why tonight
the world seems so much nastier
than it's ever been before.
the lack of punctuation is deliberate
Aug 2017 · 277
Love takes over thought
Poetria Aug 2017
I know
that love is crazy,
that it escalates circulation speed,
and it ties your intestines up
into a  heart-shaped balloon.

and you're miserable
because you never asked
for this loss of control.

or maybe you're elated,
because you've always wanted
true love to come for you,
but the only thing in love
that I know
to be consistently true,
is that you're not thinking at all
and if you are,
you're not devoted to
that burst of peculiar emotion
we label as
Love is a trap.
Aug 2017 · 284
The water beneath
Poetria Aug 2017
I needed you once
and you were there
until you weren't
and that's when I learnt
to walk once again
on my own two feet
and now I'm learning
how to step on stones
without touching
the water beneath.
Divided dedication between people I knew.
Aug 2017 · 208
Road trip
Poetria Aug 2017
The fields go sliding down this sky
and my mind goes racing after them.
Aug 2017 · 296
I'm thinking
Poetria Aug 2017
Maybe we're making ourselves upset,
sitting in cubes of air
conditioned to make us feel sick,
racing back and forth
in our poisonous bugs,
and I'm thinking

One day you'll find me sitting
in a green field on a busy motorway,
singing the blues and talking to clouds, looping dead daises into a chain,  
thinking about gypsies
in their little world of colour,
trapping their secrets inside caravans,
laughing at the rest of you who
race to the end of the world, daily,
eyes to your cars and the concrete.
I'm thinking

One day I'll be standing
in the middle of that field again,
under skies black, void of mercy,
wondering why everyone left so soon,
taking in gulps of poisonous air,
flashbacks to the pieces of history
I'll have to keep to myself.

*Maybe we're making ourselves upset.
Aug 2017 · 372
Poetria Aug 2017
The stars don't know that they're shining and they don't like how we stare at their bodies and it makes me wonder if we're any different and maybe the sky is a mirror reflecting us all and we're flipping a coin with night and day, and the stars will all fall when we destroy ourselves tomorrow.
Jul 2017 · 1.2k
Poetria Jul 2017
People burn
brighter than the sun
and I've got complicated feelings
for every different flame.

I love fire,
and I'm terrified.
Jul 2017 · 568
This poet (in a nutshell)
Poetria Jul 2017
Who's going to understand
how I hate taking showers because
I love taking showers?

How my speech is as shallow
as my mind is intense?

Tell them not
that the shower feels so good,
you fear the time it will end.

Tell them not
about that fear controlling
your will to shower *ever again.

Tell them not
that you hate what you think,
but you *love what you pen.
Whoever said you had to make sense?
Jul 2017 · 206
Hipster Queen
Poetria Jul 2017
Hipster queen,
younger than youth, hardly 16
sipping her Tapal Green Tea
Wondering what everything means,
creating art, making up dreams.

With a glint in your eyes,
and a lazy-cat smile, I'm guessing
you've always, always been
an effortless, ridiculous
This one's for you, Beeo.
Jul 2017 · 271
The fall & the flight
Poetria Jul 2017
I'll tell you this,
I questioned it too,
how two people could get
so caught up in each other
they forget themselves.

Let me tell you,
your heart will never again
feel so light
but the ache is definetely
worth the ride.

Let me tell you this,
you won't understand
why people fall
until you experience
*the flight.
Inspired by La La Land
Jun 2017 · 770
Earlier in 2017
Poetria Jun 2017
I was feeling so much,
I could hardly speak
and I was missing your hugs,
I could barely breath
in the absence of
Jasmine deodorant
you never sprayed
on the pages
of the scrapbook
you gave me
and it took me since April
to realise
we were a whirlwind,
romantic, one of a kind
type of scene
and it's always been
harder for me
to replay the part where
you tell me never again,
to you, to speak.
Just two kids, ****** and fearless.
Jun 2017 · 172
Poetria Jun 2017
At a typewriter, he types.

*God, it eats me inside
but it helps a tree of life
to blossom inside of
this bottomless pit
with no nutrients to give
and now this sadness within
finally looks like a gift.
Jun 2017 · 313
Reaching 16
Poetria Jun 2017
You can't see it, but I can.
You're growing so fast and it hurts to see the shine leave your eyes.
She used to talk about the strangest things, and now she doesn't talk.
I'll bet you fear the world now, when you used to dream of coming out here.
I'll bet she's losing hope.
I see them smiling less, I see them giving less, I see sadness everywhere.
Nobody talks anymore.
I'll never talk again.
I don't trust anybody who won't trust me.
Jun 2017 · 208
Pieces of yourself
Poetria Jun 2017
Some pieces stay unfixed
but we learn to pretend they're fine.

Some pieces fall away inside moments
and some pieces fall back in time.

But darling, realise this;

Some pieces you're searching for
will never exist.
Jun 2017 · 248
Dangerous youth
Poetria Jun 2017
We kept each other
tucked safely in our pockets.
We forgot to take care of ourselves.
We were bad for each others' health.
Jun 2017 · 257
Poetria Jun 2017
So uninspired,
wasting my time
listening to the same songs
I've been listening to for years.

So tired
of the way our world is changing.
Can somebody guide me
to some open minds?

Because even the walls
are easier to talk to.
Don't tell me
everything seems fine.
Apr 2017 · 313
To each their own.
Poetria Apr 2017
The overwhelming stench
Of body odour and sweat
will only smell like home
once you've chosen to accept
that a smell is to a person
as a leaf is to a type of tree
choose your scent, for I choose me,
in solitude I choose to breath.
Don't look at me, it wrote itself.
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