N - Hello Poetry

N Mar 2018

While bearing the weather of a storm, you don't consider the aftermath; you don't consider the damage that's being done. In that moment, all you can do is brace yourself. You hide, tuck your head between your knees, close your eyes and try to convince yourself it isn't happening. The ground shakes, the wind whistles through the cracks of the doors and it feels like the world may fall from beneath you, but you bear it. And then, after what feels like a piece of forever, the wind settles, the rain stops and you can breath easy. You survived. For a while, you think it's over. The calm is a silent whisper convincing you that you'll be okay. You think all is passed. Until you look up, step outside your home and see the damage that's been done. The gardens that have been destroyed by fallen trees, the broken windows of the house down the street, the flood of water from the rain that swallows everything in its way. That's when you realize; the worst part has only just begun.

Losing you was the storm. It was slow at first, then it progressed as time went by and became aggressive...angry. It was loud, it came with too many words that should have remained unsaid to save ourselves from the damage. But you see, you didn't consider the aftermath of breaking me. You didn't care enough to spare me the pain of forgetting every promise you ever made me; telling me things that to this day create thunder in the back of my mind on the sunniest of days. I braced myself, convinced myself we could survive this. I convinced myself that your anger was a cloud that needed to release its rain. And rain it did. But it's been days since it stopped raining and I'm still coughing up water from the flood you left behind.
Just when I thought we were in this together, you couldn't handle the changing weather and I'm here in a pile of broken branches with bruised feet and ****** knees wondering how I could have avoided this. What happens when the one thing I tried to protect is destroyed? What happens when it's my heart?

How do you fix the aftermath of a storm when its somewhere your hands can't reach?

#heartbreak #sad #thoughts #sadpoems #poetryinspiration #lovepoems #metaphor #freeverse #imagery #personificatoin

N Jan 2018

Always Running

At midnight there's a freight train that passes through the neighbouring town; its loud enough shake the windows of our room and wake me. At 12:03 you roll over, kiss the blade of my shoulder and pull me closer into your embrace. You are sleeping- silent and easy. My eyes are wide, watching the shadows on the walls as the cars drive by, putting the thought of leaving on my mind but keeping me in the warmth of our sheets until I can figure out how to slip out from under your arm. It feels so natural resting there below my rib cage just above my belly button, so i'm asking myself why I'm so urged to escape the one place that feels familiar; the one place that feels warm. It's 12:07 and the wind chimes start singing outside our window, giving signal of the cold winter breeze that would chill me to the bone if I decide that tonight's the night I leave you. It always works this way, running away from heartache before it happens; dodging the pain before I feel it on this body that you worship. Trying to forget about the nights when I'd ask you why you do this and your response always being, "you're worth it". I've been left too many times to believe it's true so now it's my turn to walk out that door before you do and even though my hands are shaking beneath you, my heart is whispering that the time is now. I wish you could wake up and beg me to stay somehow, but your eyes are sealed and a part of me knows how you would feel if you woke to me shutting the door ever so quietly the way I'm used to.
Love isn't enough to keep me satisfied- it used to be when I was young and naive but my heart's been broken too many times by guys who've watched me helplessly cry yet sat there and denied that they're even hurting me. It's a road that I'm used to walking down. The sidewalks beginning to know the sound of me dragging my feet at a quarter past twelve while the moons getting ready to hear me yell "why am I ******* like this?". I wish I wasn't like this. But God put me together like a puzzle and I think he lost a piece during the process. I don't know if I have a purpose, and I don't know in which God I believe. But I've spent my whole life running- trying to find someone who feels like the missing part of me. It's 12:23. You weren't the missing part of me. I'll never get the chance to apologize and at 6:41 the sun will rise but I'm begging you baby please don't cry when you don't see me laying beside you. People like me are hurricanes and we come around and bring too much pain and trust me sometimes I feel insane for always running away from from soft kisses and a safe place. But even bomb shelters get destroyed. And maybe love isn't meant for someone like me, maybe I'm meant to live with this void in my chest ; I haven't figured it out yet. Just make the bed like you always do, then go out and find yourself someone who loves you in all the ways I didn't know how. A girl with pretty eyes and a soft voice who is strawberry sweet and recognizes that despite it all, your heart is still soft and you will still need love when the sun rises.

#poetry #poem #leaving #pain #rhyme #metaphor #hurricane #storm #poet #thoughts

N Sep 2017

Untitled

"you'll know it's real when it's a cure to your depression. You'll know it's real if your love for him overpowers your will to die"

#love #death #thoughts #short

N Jul 2017

Yes, this ones for you.

I'm falling in love with you.

I'm sorry.

Please don't leave.

N Jul 2017

If I knew what I know now, then.

If I knew what I know now, then, I wouldn't hold the feeling of regret in my hands everytime someone spoke your name. I wouldn't have let you drive away without you knowing that you're leaving someone who loves you. If I knew what I know now, then, this feeling of "what if" would not be a soundtrack playing in the background every time I miss you. I shouldn't have to miss you, but I also couldn't have made you stay. Sometimes I wish that you would have shown me that you felt the same way.. but the smiles from across the room never lasted quite long enough. I wanted to tell you that night we sat on my mother's couch, but then I asked myself if I was ready to watch you leave and the answer was always no. I wanted to tell you when we sat on my porch and watched the cars drive by as the sun set over my little neighborhood. The birds would have heard it and the sun would have given its last drops of light to my words... but they stayed locked onto my tongue and never made their way out. If I knew what I know now then, I would have written you a letter instead.
The words I love you come bearing too much weight, I have never been strong enough to risk slipping them through my clenched teeth because I always thought you would respond with a goodbye. If I knew what I know now, then, I would shot a gun at my fear and let the words spill like honey onto my lips.

Maybe you would have kissed me and tasted it.

#sad #poetry #leaving #love #heartbreak #loss #time #me #you #thought

N Jun 2017

Untitled

I keep waking up shaking from the same dream. I am the driver in a 10 car pile up, I am trying to **** all the versions of myself I never found the courage to show you, I am trying to tape my mouth with duct tape so I don't scream too loud "I just wanted to be enough for you"
You never knew what It took to carry a heart in your palms without letting it slip through, you never knew how to convince me that you were okay with the broken pieces of myself I left in a box at your doorstep. The last time we spoke, I told you death has been making its bed in my thoughts. That shouldn't have been the last time we spoke, you should have known that ropes and high places have a way of luring me in, you should have known that death would be the last person I wanted to flirt with. How would you feel if I called you and told you that he's had his hands up my skirt? How would you feel if the one place I feel close to dying is the only place I like to be? How would you feel if I told you I've been asking the ground to get ready to greet me? You wouldn't. You tell me you haven't felt anything since the night we hung up without whispering love through our clenched teeth but I'm the one still pulling the glass out of my cheeks from jumping into love with someone who doesn't know what the word means. I am co-relating love with death. I am doing this because every day that goes by where you don't tell me you love me, is a day where it becomes harder to breathe and I'm wondering what that means.
I am writing this poem from the rooftop of my mother's house, I am hoping its high enough. I am hoping to forget the sound of your name. I am trying not to think of the look on your face when you read this and realize I was on a date with death, he really knows how to make my heart stop.

N Jun 2017

If love were enough

If love were enough, I wouldn't be cold while laying here beneath the sheets of the twin bed I've been sleeping in since I was a child. I used to tell myself that one day I wouldn't need to fall asleep to the sound of my mother breaking dishes in the kitchen. If love were enough to my father she wouldn't have had to find herself barefoot on tile floors with ****** hands. If love were enough they wouldn't have needed to pretend that their Sunday mornings were spent renewing the vows they once made to themselves before forgetting what forever feels like. If love were enough they wouldn't be sleeping in different cities every night. I have been trying to find a way to tell you that the cracks in my ribcage have been there long before I met you, broken from the nights I've spent screaming at my father to look into my mother's eyes and save her. Broken from the times I begged them both to plant seeds back into a soil they've stopped harvesting. Broken from the times I thought my existence was a burden they no longer had the patience to deal with. Broken from the times I wished I could be a forever they could sink their fingers into.

...But I told myself that it would be different for me. I told myself that I wouldn't be sleeping alone by the time I turned 18. That love would come to me in the form of someone who would actually make a promise and keep it. I told myself that If love were enough you would be here tonight. I just turned 18, and all i've learned so far is that love is never enough; I can't remember the last time my hands weren't shaking and I can't remember why your name always tastes sweet on my tongue when I say it. But I can remember you telling me that one day it would be you and me dancing in the kitchen on Friday nights, and I'm wondering if that's before or after I get glass in my feet.