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Angie S Nov 2018
i'm afraid that
i'll have all the words
to a love poem in my head
but no one to give them to
i'm rereading my journal right now. i wrote this line on march 27, 2018 after having watched love, simon.

a hopeless romantic poet's biggest fear.
Angie S May 2017
5 lies I used to believe as a kid.
1) Santa Claus is real, and he visits every child’s home on Christmas Eve,
Delivering presents all around the world.
I guess he is real, though in my eyes he only comes to
One house and prefers Indian food to cookies.
2) Fast food is bad for you.
I mean, it’s definitely bad for your body,
But it is like a bowl of blended greens
For your soul.
It’s a spiritual experience to get your food through a window in a bag.
3) I’m not good at the flute.
See, one day in the 5th grade we played with some
Band instruments and got stickers if we did well.
I did not get the flute sticker and I supposed it was a
Sign from God telling me the flute life wasn’t my life.
I guess I forgot that effort builds talent,
And practice makes perfect; everyone has potential.
4) Everyone is as they seem.
I see all the colors in the human rainbow but underneath that layer
I guess some people hide behind brittle plastic.
I wonder how their blood flows through their veins,
And I wonder if their blood runs warm or if it’s a cold cry for help.
5) The world is innocent.
As a kid I thought the Earth loved everyone equally,
Like 1) Santa Claus is real and 2) Fast food is bad for you
But turns out that once you put on a few more years,
Grow a foot or two, gain some weight on you,
The world reveals itself to be a battlefield, and you realize the truth.
Things like 3) Everyone’s not good at something whether it’s
The flute or this constant battle for confidence against society.
Things like 4) Everyone has a plastic layer of some kind whether it
Conceals their vile warfare or thinly protects them from
3) The negative thoughts that tie people into knots.
These truths against these lies make me wonder if
1) Santa Claus ever really existed,
Even in the minds of children;
But between nice and naughty there may be hope yet
Before the Earth falls into coal.
innocence is so so fleeting in a world like ours.
this is a spoken word piece i performed on Apr. 21st. it got a lot of laughs at the beginning, which was perfect! i like how it's slightly personal, but more broad at the end.
Angie S Mar 2018
hello! it's been so long
it's been so long since you
talked to me like this
like this we were whispering
in each other's ears like
not even the august leaves
could have part in our affair
not even the august leaves
could know what we were
it's such a shame isn't it?
isn't it? that those leaves,
drifting down so sadly,
became september leaves
september leaves that knew
only the tears that we shed
the tears that we shed
and now the april leaves will
never know who we were
never know who you were
never know who i was
just who you and i are now
it's been so long since you
talked to me like this i almost
remembered how much i missed you
how long does a season last before it should end? how long does a song last until it sounds the same? how long does a crush last before it becomes madness? how long can one hold on until they convince themselves they shouldn't?
Angie S May 2020
the sunset melting from
a light, lively blue to lovely lavender hues;
soft, romantic piano melodies and
sopranos harmonizing in the trees;
and quiet, happy mornings,
the sunlight tickling the leaves and then my window,
and then your eyelids, the outline of your profile,
softly rising and falling, dreaming
next to me.

if i had words for how i feel of these things;
the gentle waves of your voice like the ocean,
your arms washing over and enveloping me,
the happy crashing of your laughter with mine,
your lips like fragments of light on the water's surface;
i believe those words might be
i love you
sorry it's been such a long time since my last poem. since my last poem ive had a lot of lows and a lot of highs. and im really happy to say, this poem is about one of those highs
Angie S Nov 2014
Two broken hearts
When they come together
They bleed out
From their fresh scabs
And they turn black
As the warmth from them
Trickles down
Dripping scarlet
Into our thoughts
And into our sanity
And we look down
At our intertwined fingers

As we scratch the backs of
Each other's heavily scarred hands
A murmur, our words
So porous and empty
They're carried away by the wind

"I love you"
"What if... two wrongs just made one huge wrong?" The basis of this poem.

I didn't write this about any of my personal experiences. If it makes you feel better or if you enjoyed reading it, that's all that matters.

I didn't even edit this poem or anything like that... This poem is really raw, to put it, and I'll keep it that way.
Angie S Nov 2017
a fuzzy little peach
rolled from her terrace of the tall table
off into the depths of the air and onto the floor.
i scooped her into my hands and asked her,
'beautiful peach, how did you land here?'
with a sigh, she responded,
'dear human, there are few things i can do.
once i began to roll,
i could not stop myself.'
her skin clouded with signs of contusion
and her flesh softened with the force of her fall.

'beautiful peach,
there are few things i am able to do as well.'
i did all that i could for her in that moment--
brought the fuzzy little peach to my chest
and gently held her close to my heart.

'dear human,'
she whispered,
'though it is not much to you,
to me,
it means everything.'
my prompt for today was 'peaches'. it was a simple prompt, but i wanted to turn it into more than what it seemed. also, i practiced my alliteration skills!

here's a story about the little things
Angie S May 2018
it's starting to feel hot again
the sticky summer sun and the
cicadas calling into the night like lost children
the cool water, the stinging scent of chlorine
and fireflies like faraway shooting stars
i feel something i don't quite know what to call yet
i feel like the sound of your voice
cool as the breeze under the shade
and i want to pitch a hammock there.
or the color of your eyes in the
mysterious beauty of the dark side of the moon.
for now maybe i'll just call it
air conditioning
it's the week before finals! i'm looking forward to this summer. i have a new swimsuit and everything! i even got myself some new emotions!! er at least i thought i did and then
Angie S May 2015
tomorrow i want to steal someone's heart
and i want them to steal mine
i want to trace constellations on their palm with my finger,
paint symphonies out of heart tickling laughter,
dance a slow waltz with our lips intertwined,
and gaze into their eyes and see a universe

dear 11:11
tomorrow i want to be in love
i want to feel the tip of it with my toes
let it crawl up my leg and body
and wrap me up from the inside out
sink into oblivious bliss

today i spent alone but
tomorrow i want love to knock at my door
sing me a tune i know by heart
and let me hum the harmonies
tear up the clouds and let the sun rain down
i felt like this a while ago and still do, i think. anyways, this poem is pretty raw and i'm probably going to post a revised version later. but for now, enjoy the thoughts i have and keep to myself.
Angie S Feb 2016
in wonderful pieces the sky falls down
while the little girl in the corner
nibbles on the uneven ends of her fingernails
she watches with widened eyes though blurred vision
and her stomach sinks lower and lower
there in the distance stood somebody that told her
she could hold the sky together
the clouds and the sun and the starry night were
completely within her grasp she just needs to reach out she'll be okay
its too far gone in the depths of memories faded for her
to now recall those words of wisdom
rather she continues to rock gently and shake nervously
because what is she to do? the sky is falling apart
in wonderful, wonderful pieces
i have had writer's block for an unimaginable amount of time and i'm back with a new sense of anxiety and instability and i feel as if the sky is falling down
Angie S Oct 2017
through the naked trees
the winter wind blows into
the depths of my heart
a lot of great things have happened recently! i got my first job and i got some good test grades and i saw a lot of friends!

even so, winter must come around eventually
but summer always follows.
Angie S Oct 2014
So in the end
Night fell upon me
And swallowed me whole
And left nothing behind
But my fallen tears
No one was there
To watch me fall,
Drown in my eternal nothings

So in the end
Night fell upon us
And you were left with
My smiling face, the one
I forgot, I left with you
Because I love you so
And didn't want to trouble you
Any more than I already have

So in the end
Night fell upon this city
And to everyone that had ever
Laid their eyes upon
My matter, matter with no reason
I give my memory
Take it and breathe it in
Let it fill you with life
And then exhale

So in the end
Night fell upon me
And swallowed me whole
And left nothing behind
But a sad, selfish rabbit
Who loved being alone
And yet despised being lonely
They say that rabbits can die of loneliness.
Angie S Sep 2017
A shell on the beach
shines with brilliance against the sand
it holds all the colors of the world
in every beautiful band on its surface
and inside, it echoes the rolling ocean
whose song its always lived beside

But the rain batters the innocent coast
and cruel winds scramble its peace,
boasting its power over that
brilliant little shell

Its surface dulls in the storm
and its smooth colorful form becomes distorted with cracks
all its hues, it wishes were subdued
it wishes it could hide under the cold sand forever
and inside,
the ocean is still
i wrote this one in music theory today! i probably should have been focusing on the lecture but for poetry it's excusable.

the shell on the beach has stories that you cannot hear,
no matter how closely you listen
Angie S May 2015
i feel like a shredded jigsaw puzzle
the unsolvable rubik's cube
abstract art by the picasso of melancholy
who couldnt find a way out of his blue period
melted ice cream sundae and cherry
sitting forgotten rotting on hot summer concrete

the common man of the cubicle
would eat people like me for dinner
and he would enjoy it too with his
overly happy son and his
overly happy wife and his
overly happy purebred golden trophy dog
i sit at the middle of the table
the eye of attention and
stuffed by an apple to keep me shut and
they stare at me ready to tear me apart and
for dressing tonight they will eat my tears

cover me in blankets and lay me down in bed
i will slip away for the night and
in the morning hopefully
i will be a step closer to completed
Angie S Jun 2015
At 2 am broken thoughts
Seeped out of my skin and soaked the bedsheets
At 1 am writing diary entries
Because happy things happened and
Forgetting sadness requires remembering happiness
At 12 am on the computer
Wasting away life for a lack of motivation,
Becoming motivated,
And then self loathing for wasting life
At 11 pm drawing a picture
(Because someone else wanted it)

The things i really want
They are scattered in between the carpet
And peel and tear at my feet when i walk across it
At 2 am im a broken thought
Its 2 am and i feel really ****** (again)
but i found myself writing again so thats a start
Angie S Jan 2018
the night unfolds elegantly
i wedge myself again in between
its elegance and my weary thoughts
i imagine wishing for silly things
on the passing shooting stars
but if i snap back to reality
i remember that one wish i keep on wishing
and i look out my window
waiting for a star to come by and hear me
the night is too elegant
for such a wish,
such thoughts,
as mine
i wonder if this even makes sense? hahaha.
i hope everyone's 2018 has been good so far.
Angie S Oct 2017
when i wake up i fall from my ceiling
my shower water falls into it, though
my clothes hang upside down in my closet
i set my car in reverse to go

when i walk i always look behind me
i try to open doors, but instead they close
i wave hello to the people i meet
but they wave goodbye; i suppose
that's what having a backwards life is about

when i cover myself in blankets to keep warm
no matter how heavy they are, i am cold
i can laugh the loudest in a crowd
but i feel alone in memory's hold

i am always wishing you were here
even at times i don't want to think of you
i wonder if you think of me sometimes
but maybe you don't want to think of me, too
that's what having a backwards life is about
i have thought about you every single day...
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 Apr 2015
When will the day come
That I can call you
A distant memory

It's the nickname you've given me
While forgetting all the other names
That you'd whisper to me

As we were holding hands
And laughing at the clouds above us,
Drifting away as if they hadn't heard

Now I wish those clouds would've stopped moving
So we could've spent our little eternity together
And if not that much, I wish
You could push my hair behind my ear in the wind
And if not that much, I wish
That you could have at least wiped my tears away

Before you drifted away, too
((not about me. i simply wrote it.))
Angie S May 2015
You stomp on the glass floor
And when it shatters and you fall through
You point at me
Angie S Nov 2015
your flowers are beginning to bloom
in my heart,
and i know that i shouldn't fall in love
because weeding it out will be too hard,
but alas,
your flowers are too colorful
and aromatic and
i can't help but
lose myself in you.
and i want so desperately to
brush your petals softly with my fingers,
but i almost would rather
watch from afar
in fear of ruining the entire garden.

and i don't know if you're much for gardening
but if my flowers sprout within you,
let me know
i read a buttload of shoujo manga today (hirunaka no ryuusei!) and im in that kind of mood
but this love letter is addressed to nobody
Angie S Mar 2016
a letter is just a piece of paper
and ink is just a mess if it falls off a table
these are incredibly simple things but
i want to make them special
and special is a very broad term but
i mean as special as that burning, flaming desire to
give other people our entire lives worth of special

so if i shape the mess into words
and i craft the paper into a message
could you understand what special truly means to me
could you realize it encompasses all that you are
and could you hold me the way
pieces of paper soak up ink and
symbols soak up meaning and
romantic daydreamers soak up beautiful fantasies

with this burning, flaming desire i’ve lit the candlestick at both ends
crafting carefully the contents of my heart
into this letter for you.
and in calligraphy, too.
because i want to shape the ink to fit
the curves of your lips when you smile
and the creases of the paper to bend
your heart into knots like mine,
and you could imagine your favorite word
in my handwriting
and sometimes the meaning of special will be me
just as much as it is you
revised version of "i'll learn calligraphy." i've been working a little on this and i think i can't do much else to it but i'm open to tips, as always
Angie S Dec 2015
I drank a cup of coffee
But that's not enough to
Dispel this drowsiness
I live in.
I drank a cup of coffee
To deal with today;
The only way i know
To deal with every day.
I drank
A cup of coffee,
But i could bathe in
A pool of caffeine and
Run my fingers against the current
Of a river of it and
I would leave
With eyes heavier than before.

I think coffee,
Is not going to help anymore.
I think,
Something inside me is
Whirling doubts about me
More snug than is comfortable.
This brew
Doesnt even taste sweet,
Or particularly bitter.
It's very bland.
And i prefer to leave it unfinished
Than empty.
This doesn't make sense to me either. I'm vacationing and I thought of an idea for a poem, but it came out very... eh...
Angie S Dec 2015
We only met for half a minute
But that time was precious.
It filled me with
Surprise, to be honest.
But it left me with
New confidence, regardless of how small it was,
And a lot of questions
I have yet to answer about myself.

Who am i?
Who am i creating out of myself?
And is that person the kind to be
Strong enough to be approached?
What can i do on my own,
Before i think of what i can do in a pair...

I thought a lot.
And that's what that half minute has given me.
A lot of new things to think about.
And i'm grateful for that.
Something a little odd happened to me this morning, someone told me I was cute and introduced himself to me.
Nothing like that has ever happened to me. And he was respectful and left when I said no thanks.
And that hasn't ever happened to me before. So naturally... I thought about it.
I thought of a lot of 'if's. What if he weren't a nice person after all? Or what if he was and we got married?!?!?
But, what if... I knew who I was first?
I realized a little bit about myself.
(Firstly, I am too simple. I was a lil happy when I thought hey, someone thinks I'm cute.)
I have a lot of dreams... and I want to fulfill those on my own. I want to see how far I can go on my own. I want to see who I am on my own.
Then, I think, I can think more about cute people that think I'm cute.
(But thank you, random person!!)
Angie S Dec 2015
i begin to recognize the smile on my face
and a single rogue thought runs across my mind
looks like, i have to start over now
its finals week im stressed out and tired but im too awkward to pour myself out in a lot of clear words so i like to express myself in a few ambiguous words instead.
Angie S Jan 2017
Sometimes I am afraid
to begin something new
because I don't want to end up
just short of my destination
or rather I
don't want to find out if destiny
prefers my misery over my dreams
or maybe it's easier to
never begin in the first place and
I can waste away lying down
instead of dying in the heat of battle

if I start something new I also risk
losing my way  (again)  and
with things as they are
I should avoid new beginnings
I should stay as I am,
stagnant and afraid

yet I long for the feel
of the earth beneath my feet as I
walk forwards
for it is always stable
I hit "the zone" today. The poetry zone. I wrote this minutes ago in my journal fresh from my wandering thoughts, hence the title.
The toughest part is the first step, especially when you dream of running
Angie S Feb 2018
i let my eyelids flutter shut
smiled coyly
held their face in my hands gingerly
stood on my tip toes and
some lips met somewhere
i can't say for sure
when i shut my eyes
i was a sea in their arms
completely enamoured
and i wanted a little bit more
just a glimpse of those eyes
looking at me
but when i looked back
i couldn't recognize those arms
those eyes those lips
then for whom was i smiling?
i'll just tell you this time. it's a poem where the speaker is with one person, but loves another person. i consider it a sister poem to "i saw" but its very rough around the edges isn't it?
Angie S Nov 2020
the ocean outside the window--
that clear blue hue that
reflects nothing to the eyes
but illustrates the heart--
turned to autumn orange and
some blue shade of red
so suddenly.

with my eyes i watched
as the light travelled against
the shadows of my textbooks,
inching across the table
until it reached its end horizon
and disappeared beyond the window.

that blue was gone so suddenly.
and the ocean came
to my eyes.
i very badly need to get back into writing poetry consistently, so i'm committing myself to one poem a day for the month. here's my first poem; it's just about how the fact that the sun sets sooner in autumn makes me sad.
Angie S Jan 2016
i imagine little pieces of you
clinging to my shirt,
like dandelion seeds,
when you kiss me.

but you are much, much more than a mere ****.
you're a vivid, radiant flower in a garden of wilting stems.

and every time you smile at me
i swear,
something in me grows again.

perhaps you're the sunshine
that nourishes my growth.
perhaps you're the rain
that makes my cloudy days worthwhile.
and more than that,
you're the earth that keeps me here.
you're the dandelion that grows in my garden.
???? this isn't written to anyone but i guess i just? it came to me.
also a first draft, like "redemption." and also pretty cheesy. but i really like this one?
Angie S Apr 2016
i close my eyes . . .
your lips brush mine like a dream
your fingertips lay on mine
as a musician's before he plays a masterpiece
a whisper wafts around my hair,
toying with it lovingly
i suppose that's when i realized
reality is a daydreamer's playground
and you are my best friend.
we hold hands like
we don't want to let go but even if we do we never really do
and we run like our legs are trying to catch up
with our heartbeats--
i always run a little faster with you.
music sounds like your laughter over the phone at 2 am
and your footsteps beside me
and your endless ways of saying "i love you."
you are my greatest symphonies and my
most quiet hums.
you are an unbreakable pinky promise.
you are a dream and you are
all the stars and constellations that adorn my night sky
wrote this in ~15 minutes?
lately people have been so so nice to me. nothing much has changed in my life but the people around me are just being so kind to me i can't help but smile now. nothing has changed but everything has changed. i can only hope it sticks around a little longer.
with that came an idea for a poem. love poems are fun to write, even if you don't have anyone to address them to.
Angie S Mar 2015
Your name is as lovely
As the memories we made.
]I wrote this about an old friend of mine. She was pretty strange and maybe the right thing to think about our friendship was that it was better off this way, but for some reason I always look back at it fondly and sometimes even with a sense of yearning.
Angie S Oct 2014
The ones that were left behind
Began to kick at my shins
And they bled and bruised blue
But all that fell were tears
And my apologies

Forgive me, I've been a stranger
But deep down I've drowned
And coming up for air is a hassle
But I'm still watching from afar

Please wait for me
Please don't look at me like that
Please hear me when I say these
Two words, tumbling out like
******* birds, thirsty for the taste
Of cotton candy clouds

And please accept me,
Those not-so-forgotten friends of mine
Inspired from a terrible dream I had a while ago, and what it told me.
Angie S Mar 2016
the grass tastes like candy and the flowers
sparkle like morning dew at twilight
the sun only comes out to say hello, like a passerby,
and the moon is a familiar friend
imagination becomes a reality and reality doesn't actually exist
and existence is just a dream
i listened to this
this person's remixes are my lifee ee e e ee e  e
Angie S Feb 2015
Today, I am among the half-dead again
Wandering the halls with a gaze that could disintegrate the sun
The world around me is painted in an elephant grey
But this safari feels empty and yet so congested
With a smile that’s been sloppily and gruelingly painted on,
I face the challenges of everyday life once more

Half of me is tuned in to the things around me,
Scribbling words and deciphering the text at a snail’s pace
But the other half is still dreaming,
Waging war against the strongest mages of our time
Or drowning among a school of clownfish
Either way I’m not here and I’m begging to be free
Today, I am among the half-dead again

I imagine that someday a dragon will take me away
This may simply be my dreaming side taking over again
But if I said it could burn away all my worries,
Wouldn’t you wish for that as well?
I would hop onto its scaly back and point towards the sky,
Chanting as if I had been rehearsing for this moment,
“Anywhere is fine, as long as it’s not here”

But until then, I am drenched in my own rain
And the smile has run off with it, off to somewhere far away
Today, I am among the half-dead again
With weights tightly chained to my fingers
I’m dragging my thoughts along with my spirit

I’m a little bit tired but maybe if I wait, tomorrow will be a much better day
The air here is saturated with yawns and negativity.
I wrote this about a week ago. I would like feedback on this please!! I'm going to send this in to a yearly poetry book at my school after I do revisions, so please tell me what I can improve on!
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 2015
the flowers i turned into a bouquet yesterday
are now wilted and burning like fuel
"everything is fine"
is a bigger lie than the smile on my face
when i wake up every morning
and now i feel myself
catching  on fire too
this is a personal, though i don't want to admit it.
everything is fine
Angie S Apr 2015
The first time I opened my eyes I learned that the world
Wasn’t just the world I saw in my mother’s womb.
Up until then I was just feeding off of another person,
But I was growing stronger for that very moment.
Until then I was sheltered off from the real world to develop
In a safe haven.
The first time I felt the outside air I learned that the world
Wasn’t warm and protecting like my mother was.
But you see, even though I was just a newborn baby,
The youngest person on the planet for a split second,
I could breathe on my own. I could swallow on my own.
And the first time I tasted my first bit of food,
I tasted a whole ‘nother world dancing a tango with my tongue.
She was a bit clumsy on her feet but we had fun anyways,
And soon enough I grew accustomed to this world as well.
Then came the first time I stood on my own two feet.
It was one small step into yet another new world,
And one big leap into understanding the one world that was made up
Of all these littler worlds.
I could run from one universe to another by myself,
And it sounds a bit scary, but I got used to this after a while.
From there came the biggest eye opener of my life,
When I learned to read and write.
It was from those roots, the ones my mother gave me as she read me bedtime stories,
That I acquired the key to a myriad of other worlds.
It was from there that I learned how to open my eyes every day
And see a brand new world to devour with my insatiable curiosity.
All I ever wanted was in front of me. All I had to do was open my eyes.
Kind of a WIP. I'll probably just leave it as is though and move on to more poems. That's just how it goes sometimes...
Angie S Aug 2015
Towering new york skyscrapers scraping by,
Burning cars and crying taxis honking like a broken record,
Crushing fragile crystal windows under hurried and hushed steps,
Bumping into each other and mouthing a flimsy apology,
Digging heels into half-dried concrete and waiting to dry up as well,
Reading into life a lil too much and getting hit by a car,
I guess
I dont really know what is going on either
Angie S Dec 2016
she reaches out before her,
gazing longingly into the sky,
and draws her arms back to her side.
her chest rises and falls.
her feet begin to push against
the ice and she glides like
a dove riding atop a gentle breeze.
she crosses her steps with elegance and
swiftly flies to the end of her terrain.
as she turns to return,
her knees dip and spring,
propelling her into the air.
her legs cross at her ankles
and she becomes a twisting airplane.
her feet find a landing on her thin blade.
she leans into the center of the rink,
clutching her leg,
and spins with a slow, melodic grace.
as she lowers into a crouch, her tempo rises,
and she becomes a brilliant storm on ice.
again she rises and she strikes a stellar pose, head high--
she tells her audience
the queen has arrived,
and she wears ice skates.
originally written 11/12/16. i emphasized description of the skater in this poem and tried to use metaphors relating to things in the sky. no real deep meaning to this other than just to imagine... speaking of skating, who's watching yuri on ice??
Angie S Oct 2014
Our love was like a negative parabola;
Where we thought we found happiness
We only found the vertex

And then it came crashi ng d o w   n
This isn't about anyone in particular. I'm procrastinating on Algebra homework.
Angie S Nov 2017
in eons the Earth
found the means to create
a wonderous world populated
with lush forests, rippling oceans,
and life bursting from every corner

and yet, the planet
still spins in the same direction
the moon still
borrows her light from the sun

then tell me
what's the use of
wishing on shooting stars
they've seen every unchanging moment
they know each story ends the same way

the flowers i've planted
have never bloomed, nor felt spring
all these years i believed
with enough water i could do

perhaps i need to
plant my flowers elsewhere
or perhaps i should
accept this broken universe
i want to thank the hello poetry community for being so supportive of my poetry over the past month or so. a lot of them have trended and the comments i've gotten are so nice! maybe i don't get as much feedback as other poets, but it's okay :)

my whole life i've tried to fix things
but doing so has broken me
Angie S Dec 2014
Your tears
Are glass
And you
Are a diamond
Please don't cry. Your tears, your sadness, it all doesn't deserve to stain your smiling face.
Angie S Jun 2017
frayed copper wires never to be bound
electricity is lost, connections unwound, and
where one end surges in power
the other cowers, weak in comparison
i watched their awful lives and wished
someone's expert hands could finish their plight
i attempted to fix it in the past but
other copper wires are so tightly woven!
and meanwhile, this little lightbulb
flickers meaninglessly.
why no one has smashed the wires
under their feet and then in a raging fire from fatigue i
dont know.
im so tired of the dark. im so ******* tired of it but im afraid of the light.

rant poem.
Angie S Jul 2017
i am so tightly woven into
the sound of your voice,
i become hypnotized,
and i feel like i am just
an extension of your music.
what should i do with these feelings,
but allow them to overtake my arms and legs,
let my eyelids shut like a curtain on a stormy day,
and breathe like i will live forever...
you are my best friend;
though we will probably never meet,
i know you so well my heart
hums the same music from yours.
my only hope for myself is that
i could just imagine what
living a day in your colorful world is like.
my favorite musician is kenshi yonezu/hachi. i could talk for hours about him. but these are my raw feelings towards him--

you inspire me to dream
Angie S Nov 2017
i wonder what your name
looks like in my handwriting
if i weren't as shy as i am
i would have overcrowded a notebook
just of the way your i's are dotted
what frightens me is that
your hands don't agonize over my name
don't at least motion the symbols in the air
much less write them
and i wonder what my name
looks like in your handwriting
if you curl the e the same i would curl yours
or if you bestow your personal touch upon it
either way it would look beautiful
i would adore any name you'd write for me

i wonder what your name
looks like in my handwriting
but honestly i worry that
i cannot do it justice
wrote this one in 5 minutes. i'm procrastinating and i'm stressed and insert more negative things here. worst of all, i am still chased by one thought, and i worry i cannot do anything about it.

i'm nervous to write it, but if i had to write just one thing for the rest of my life, it would be those letters that make up your name.
Angie S Oct 2015
wandering in a drugless daze
among wafting dreams and empty speech bubbles
a soft acoustic plays against white walls
as we search for some sort of meaning in blank canvases
we're drowning in nothing.
we're drowning in uncertain futures
and teetering on tight ropes whilst looking down.
and yet we wake up the next day and brush aside
the colors we mixed too much on our palette
as well as the ones we don't dare to touch.
hello sleepwalkers,
dropping dead one by one from buildings
dreams of growing wings splattered on the asphalt.
hello sleepwalkers,
pressed for answers
and squeezed in between questions.
hello sleepwalkers,
the children of yesterday, the voices of tomorrow,
the unshakable nausea of ******* up and loneliness
of today.
i was listening to /watch?v=J69oCCM1EcI as i wrote this.
this is an ode to students who have too many dreams and not enough confidence
Angie S May 2015
on my way to where i am now
i’ve carried a bag of burdens, slung on my back
and there was a hole in the bottom
and all the hope was small enough to fall out
i could tell you about my journey,
but here’s what i left out

i forgot to stop to smell the flowers
and when i did they all shriveled up
but i took them anyways and pretended they were beautiful
i forgot to look up at the sky
when the sun shone and the clouds were absent
so all i ever knew were tearing up broken hearted skies
i forgot to tie my shoes before i left the house
and i kept tripping over my own feet and when i went home
i found i’d locked the door shut myself
i forgot to dance when i heard music
with despair chained to my ankles and dried blood spilled on my feet
how could i even imagine it in my dreams
i forgot to laugh when i heard a joke
because i’d already exhausted myself just
looking in the mirror
i forgot to breathe and to smile while breathing
and to live and to love and to sew up the hole in the **** bag
before i forgot myself too
It's okay to take the scenic route,
And it's okay if the view isn't as pretty as you thought it'd be
Angie S Oct 2015
sometime i suppose
God created the horizon line at the end of the world
and He made it so that
we were unable to see past it

but what He did not know
was that we are dreamers, us poets
we saw the horizon line and chased after it;
when we got tired, we sat down and
dreamt of life beyond the horizon
and we put it to words,
music to our tongues and
sweet love to our world
i am stressed out have a poem, i churned it out in 2-3 minutes and i'm officially calling this one a wip
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 Dec 2015
Once upon a time, I knew you.
Innocent, alone, quiet, but it all seemed like
A bad case of deja vu.
You knew me once, twice, thrice...
I knew,
You have the power to make our world
Or destroy it.
Despite this, I faithfully
Maintained the only promise I've ever made.

Once upon a time I felt the sun
Kiss my face and the wild breeze
Tame my hurting soul.

But now, I only feel the present.
All I know now is the emptiness
Of having everything torn away
From you.
This emptiness you brought me--
Let me repay it
As many times as you will allow me.

Or until
We return
To once upon a time.
this is a spoilery poem.
i've been intensely obsessed with undertale, this is my second undertale poem i've posted here.
this is about a troubled guy who likes to drink ketchup and tell funny jokes. and never makes promises he can't keep
Angie S Feb 2017
i carry my heart and it is full of emotions
and those emotions are like
waterfalls crashing with the momentum of pure gravity but
they are equally the eye of the storm in that
the scenery blurs in ugly destruction but
here all is quiet and serene
i carry my heart with me because
it is too intense, too restless to
wait for me to return from my life's voyage
rather, it shapes the ocean's winds
and guides me across the unforgiving world
i took a snippet of something i wrote and liked and then poemized it.
i carry my heart everywhere with me.
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