Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Angie S Oct 2018
i layed in bed
before i got myself dinner.
when i had gotten up again,
only a single cold plate remained
on that table for two.
my only company were
the memories that dined with me.
they laughed with me as i ate,
chased me back to my blankets,
wrapped their arms around me,
and slept with me.
and i couldn't breathe.

no matter how much i tell myself
you're gone,
i see you in everything
i posted the first three lines of this poem on my social media and a friend told me it sounded like a poem. so naturally, i had to make it a poem.

nanowrimo is almost here and i'm going to be writing daily poems again (i believe this is my third year of doing so?). i'll be posting through the month of november! :)
Angie S Sep 2018
i wrote your name in pencil
i would erase it before you passed me by
but, watching your back distance from me,
i rewrote those letters like i
could not wear down that pencil enough

and i wrote your name in pen
that day you saw it, it was embedded in ink
no eraser could hide those feelings
but truly no pen could encompass the answer
written in your twinkling eyes

then i tried to draw your name.
but what color could possibly rival
the love your heart contains? and
how do i put on this paper what
the sound of your laugh does to me?
every time i wrote every way i love you
i just wrote your name again and again

even now
it's all i can do anymore
it's all i can do anymore

inspired in part from Ayano from the Kagerou Project,
and in part just from me.
Angie S Sep 2018
i am saving words.
i find them in dusty corners,
old words piling up over the years,
and i collect them in my hands.
i look under books i wore from use,
between scribbled annotations in their pages.
in my journal i find words
i thought about a lot,
and sometimes, i find words in the spaces
that i thought about too much.
i search in the bathroom sink,
where they get caught in the drain,
and i work up a sweat to pull them out.
i search in places i used to go
just to remember again,
i am saving those words.
some of them i meant for my friends.
a few look like they were
for people a bit closer than friends.
most of them are for myself,
and i am saving those words for myself.
i am saving them to remember
the life i've lived thus far.
i dug up those words i wrote for you so long ago.
i put them in a vase and set them on my desk.
Angie S Aug 2018
a hushed conversation between the leaves and wind
lonely crowing from cicadas at summer's end
bubbling fountains crashing like grand waterfalls
shuffling in the trees; scraps of nuts raining as the squirrels feast
girls laughing together; boys calling each other
in the distance, a deep growl as tires tread asphalt
and thoughts, blissful thoughts
just about a week ago, i moved from my hometown, and from my family and friends, to a new city for college.
i have nobody here for company but myself and everything around me.
so i wrote about my closest friend here,
everything around me.
Angie S Aug 2018
a million miles i've spent
walking along the shore, seeing what kind of people
would wash up here,
were worth it when i found
an iridescent pearl in the sands
looking for a wandering heart.
from nobody else in this world
could a single glance
set my nerves dancing like fireflies in moonlight
and tug for my smile to dance along.
i've forgotten just how much
the sand has sullied my calloused feet.
is this what the fish feel like
when the warm ocean washes over their gills again
to give them life?
fervent, vibrant life?
i just felt like writing a love poem tonight! not addressed to anyone. my poem muscles have gotten a little bit weaker, i've been busy this summer with friends, music, and... transferring. aka, leaving the town i've known my whole life.
i'm trying to keep my life moving! i hope everyone else is, too.
Angie S Jun 2018
i blink.
days spent in the library
gnawing at the bone of academia
howling on nights spent in essays
and finally lying down to rest
when the barking is all done
it passes in an instant.
i blink.
the incessant fluttering
the chirps and songs dissonant but
after a long day's work
the birdhouse still is so comforting
how the days have gone by
and so soon it will just be a memory.
i blink.
poem upon poem
upon day upon day
from birth to cocoon it grew
some poems later it took flight
there are more gardens elsewhere
its been ages now but perhaps
it will find heart to come again.
i blink.
the paws have learned
not to crawl on the piano keys
but to strut on them
the chords don't sound so accidental
rather they purr warmly
and echo even now.
i blink
and prepare for the world again.
my birthday has just passed by.
it's so strange to think. i joined this website when i was 15. it's nearly been four years!
thanks for joining me this past year. here's to the poetry that 19 will bring me!
Angie S May 2018
in the heat of a thunderous twilight storm
like a child swallowed by fear i
clung onto my stuffed toys
i asked them if everything would be okay
if the sun will come out tomorrow morning
and the rest of the mornings after
even if the storm continues to brew in darker places than the night
and the rain pours but not from the sky
my little fingers held big fears but
i have to grow up
so i wont have to rely on my toys
and so i can properly grip those fears of mine
who knows what tomorrow brings. i might die tomorrow somehow. or i might become an accidental millionaire. maybe it'll be normal.
Next page