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Mar 2017 · 1.2k
His love makes me immortal
Bridget Allyson Mar 2017
He said that I'd never have to breathe again.
Breathing wasn't necessary.
He said wounds would never be made.
I'd never feel the sting.
He said I wouldn't drown.
Stay above the water.

His love makes me immortal.

I'm gasping for oxygen.
It is so necessary.
The blood now drains from my skin.
The pain is excruciating.
And I find myself going deeper.
Unable to breathe underwater.

Because his love had made me immortal.
Jan 2017 · 416
I Am an Angel
Bridget Allyson Jan 2017
I am an angel,
Floating above the earth high up in the sky
Where no one can see my tears of happiness and grief
Yes, even angels cry

You are a spirit,
With feet stuck in the ground
Your memories latch onto your shoes and they pull you
They pull you down

Once,
My eyes met yours
And it was like a kaleidoscope of everything you’d ever regret
Your brain is an all-out war

I am an angel,
Who came down to save you
I rip your shoes from the concrete
Wanting you to save me too.
Nov 2016 · 252
Untitled
Bridget Allyson Nov 2016
I knew we both hurt but I couldn’t be this way without him.
He gave me the kind of attention that I craved for.
And yet, that was not all he was capable of.

I knew we were both hurt but that didn’t matter.
It was fun to start over, and learn all over again.
I don’t know if that’s how it was for him, but it was for me.

When my skin decays and my blood dries out
You will be the one to bring me back to life
In some other form.
Oct 2016 · 367
Court Feels
Bridget Allyson Oct 2016
I never meant to hurt her.
But I hate to see him shake.
I had never seen him cry.
But her eyes are full of hate.

He writes sorry on his lips.
As I have tears on mine.
I know he is,
But we've all run out of time.

I never meant to hurt her.
But I hate to see him weep
Never again are the bad memories to live
Never are they to keep.

As he resides in his chair,
And I reside in mine.
She holds my hand.
As truth shines.
Oct 2016 · 764
Last Time I Saw Him
Bridget Allyson Oct 2016
Last time I saw him he was saying "I will always love you."
Last time I saw him he was holding my hand.
Last time I saw him he smelled of cologne.
Last time, he touched my heart.
This time she is saying "I love you so much."
This time, she is kissing my cheek.
This time, she smells of perfume.
This time, she is touching my soul.
Because my transgender bf is starting his transition soon
Oct 2016 · 293
Prison.
Bridget Allyson Oct 2016
Why is it so hard?
He wants to be set free.
He feels trapped.
And I,
I hold the key,
To his prison.
Oct 2016 · 444
I wasn't falling asleep.
Bridget Allyson Oct 2016
I wasn't falling asleep.
My eyes closed must have looked like  it.
I was listening to your voice
Out of pitch, graining against the original voices.
Jul 2016 · 243
His Peace
Bridget Allyson Jul 2016
She watched him sleep just for a moment before she turned over in the bed. She noted how peaceful he looked; his eye lids fluttered and his breathing steady. His limp body told her he wasn’t going to wake up soon. So she lay there, contemplating getting up and making the both of them coffee. Her fingers reached up and touched the necklace he had given her. She loved him, but she dare not say it. That was a phrase none of them had uttered to each other before. Even after this past month, she dare not ruin his peace.
Jul 2016 · 276
Only in His Car
Bridget Allyson Jul 2016
Only in his car
Do I feel this way
My future lies before me
Urging me to stay.
Listening to his music
Thinking about my past
Begging for value
Should I go back?
This is a poem I wrote about moving to a different state. It's about past and present. Who do I choose to be
Jun 2016 · 262
Shattered Hearts
Bridget Allyson Jun 2016
Can a heart really shatter?
Can you physically drop it and watch it break into a million pieces?
We use hearts as metaphors
We unite the words "heart and soul"
When ancient Egyptians believed any "feeling" belonged to the liver
Because the liver is closer to the hormones

Can a heart really shatter?
Is it that fragile that we have to put a sign spelled out in our eyes that says "handle with care"
A heart is a metaphor for all the years my heart has palpitated
All the times my heart just drops in exhaustion

I can't tell you if a heart really shatters.
But I know what it feels like when it beats so hard and it hurts
It aches
It throbs
It breaks
May 2016 · 647
Waking Hours
Bridget Allyson May 2016
In my waking hours
You're not there.
You're never there.
No matter how loud I call
No matter how much I scream for you
You're never there.
In my waking hours
You're somewhere else.
In a grocery store perhaps
Or screaming for me
In your waking hours.

Asleep, you're next to me
Under that apple tree
In that field
Asleep you are here, always.
May 2016 · 328
Repeat
Bridget Allyson May 2016
I repeat myself.
I write about the same thing,
Over and over.
An event, a person, a feeling.
I need something new.
A new feeling.
Something to forget what happened.
Something to forget me.
I need to be new.
So I don't repeat so much.
May 2016 · 336
Yet again it's that time.
Bridget Allyson May 2016
Yet again it's that time.
Time to start anew...
Like I've done so many times
I do my best
I get so far
Then have to start over.
Do it all again...
All for her...
All for us...
Yet again it's that time.
Time to start over.
Like my previous achievements
Come down to nothing...
Comes down to you.
May 2016 · 242
If I was beautiful.
Bridget Allyson May 2016
What if I was beautiful?
The sun would kiss my face
And so would he.
I would be attractive
Like the snow wolf with its blue eyes
Everyone would want to pick me
Like a natural flower growing from the ground.
If I was beautiful
You would want to get to know me.
Are you sure you want to?
If I was beautiful
I would be no different.
Because I am.
May 2016 · 325
Always.
Bridget Allyson May 2016
Always.
Always keeping my head above water.
Always feeling like I'm drowning in a sea of people.
The liberating lighthouse won't shine its light bright enough.
But maybe I just can't see it.
Always and forever.
A phrase once spoken between a flower and a ****.
Promising that they would someday soon become a beautiful bush.
Entwining their stems together knowing they both came from different roots.
It wouldn't be love they thought if they had it another way.
But weeds are already dead, and have been.
All ways.
All the ways it could have happened would have turned out the same way.
All the ways I tried I was constantly proving that I was somehow better.
I was somehow different that made me alien.
Always keeping my head above water.
Always.
May 2016 · 279
Long Ago
Bridget Allyson May 2016
Long ago you told me you might like me
Your fingers caressed my hand like you were afraid to touch fire
Your shoulder brushed mine many times, as if it were the bat signal.
Your smile reached mine as a clear welcome.
Long ago you told me you might like me.
You played songs in the car that I particularly liked.
You allowed me to fall into you
How much would you fall into me?
I laughed at your crazy dance
I sang to your crazy song
I waited for you to realize that my fire doesn't burn
But that was all, long ago.
Apr 2016 · 294
When he said I love you
Bridget Allyson Apr 2016
When he said "I love you"
It wasn't as romantic as I hoped.
No teddy bears
No flowers
No poorly cooked dinner to show his effort.
I was riding shotgun.
He had an old car but it still worked fine.
We drove past the gas station nearest to his house
He was looking at his phone but looked up to the street
I love you, he said and smiled
His eyes averted mine
But that smile was romantic enough
Enough that I smiled, and said
*I love you too
Apr 2016 · 344
I Mustn't
Bridget Allyson Apr 2016
I mustn't cry anymore.
It's all happened.
I would love to pretend that I have a shattered heart but I don't
It's only cracked.
I mustn't pine anymore
Pine for you.
As if I needed you to breathe like I am forever underwater
I'm drowning.
I mustn't be sad anymore
You're away.
You're far away but you promise you'll come back
So I'll wait.
Apr 2016 · 168
The Truth
Bridget Allyson Apr 2016
I can't explain it.
I tried.
But he won't listen,
I guess I'll say goodbye.
For now,
For good.
I can't explain it,
Not to  him.
He won't accept my truth,
The truth,
Our wrongs.
Apr 2016 · 1.4k
Ill-Witted and Cold Hearted
Bridget Allyson Apr 2016
I didn't throw you aside
Not the way that you imagined
I put you gently next to me
So that I could see ahead
But you thought I threw you away
No, I just kept walking
You stopped, furthering yourself
So don't say I threw you away
Just because I wanted to marvel at a different painting
I was a piece in your museum
But the art work has changed.
Apr 2016 · 408
Two-Sided Pencil
Bridget Allyson Apr 2016
Back and forth
She's back and forth
Never knowing which side to use
Today she's white
Tomorrow she's black
Her mind is indecisive
Like a pencil with two colors
At the bottom where it's dull edge
Back and forth
Back and forth
Apr 2016 · 293
Chewed
Bridget Allyson Apr 2016
Kept at the bottom of your teeth
Harshly swallowed
I hope my words
Give you a stomachache.
Apr 2016 · 237
A Piece of Wire
Bridget Allyson Apr 2016
As if a piece of wire,
He had cut me on the finger
His touch had gave me a new pain
One I had never felt.
But when he held me longer
My pain dissipated.
It wasn't pain at all.
It was unknown to me
But it left me in a bliss every time.
Like a piece of wire,
He had straightened me out
But there are always little curves
Unable to ever be fixed.
He molded me
Into a necklace
Into a ring
that said
Forever yours.
Mar 2016 · 361
Some Kind
Bridget Allyson Mar 2016
Some kind of broken heart you are
Forcing me to abide by your game
To think it's not cruel when you do the same
All the songs, poems I wrote in your name
I guess they were never engraved in your brain
Some kind of lost soul you are
Believing that we were both in love
I believed too, that we were a dove
Entwined, soaring, up above
Some kind of broken we were
Sang different parts of the same song
And for a while, we got along
Believing our love would never be gone
Believing our love could never be wrong
What kind of damage could we see?
If you were always looking for me
Instead of looking for the key
Some kind of broken, were we
To my ex-boyfriend
Nov 2015 · 1.6k
Goodnight Grandma
Bridget Allyson Nov 2015
Your hands have never been so frail.
Your eyelids had never been so weak.
Your bed had been replaced.
Your head, surrounded by pillows.
Your lips were never so white.
Your hair was never so little.

Your voice had never become so small.
Your skin have never been so thin.
Eat more, you need it.
Sleep, don’t strain.
I hope your day tomorrow will be better.
I hope your muscles tomorrow are stronger.

And when I said goodnight
On your 83rd birthday
I held your hand
You kissed my head
How long until I see you again?
Or will I ever?
Nov 2015 · 1.1k
It's a Fire
Bridget Allyson Nov 2015
It’s a fire
You and I
It’s a word
We testified.

We grew larger
It’s a flame
Every singing crackle
It calls your name.

We have heat
You and I
Have many colors
Trapped inside my eye.

It’s a dream
Yet so real
Can we deny?
Should we feel?

It’s a fire
You and I
Such a flame
Grew so high.

It’s a fire
Me and you
Such abundance
Where fire stood blue.
Nov 2015 · 519
I am From
Bridget Allyson Nov 2015
I am from a pencil, from words, and paper.
I am from the two bedroom, one floor home.
I am from the roses, and the sun.
I am from homemade coffee and depression, from Bonnie and Charlie and Christopher.
I am from the anxiety and denial.
I am from not throwing things and not living life in fear.
I am from Angels surrounding, and Omnipotent protection.
I'm from Hartford and Greenwich, statesmen and viscounts.
From the pain in their eyes and rage they expressed, and the ignorance of men.
I am from the wall where the past hangs in frames.
From pictures of possible better times, yet maybe not any greater.
From pictures that may be of worse times, hidden behind these smiles.
Sep 2015 · 925
What is it? - Object Poem
Bridget Allyson Sep 2015
What is that?
It holds the most wondrous words known to man.
Text lay carefully inside it, painting pictures for your mind.
What is that?
It opens and closes like a door.
It smells of old basements.
It is fragile, can easily be torn.
It lay anywhere you place it, it stays there.
What’s inside can be so meaningful, or mean nothing at all.
What is this fragile thing that holds the language of man?
It is book,
The best example of living and non-living.
The book itself cannot move, but the text inside can move you.
It is a book, I said.
The best way to look through other eyes.
Sep 2015 · 373
Six word memoir
Aug 2015 · 988
Say it again
Bridget Allyson Aug 2015
A word. That word. The one you said while I was sitting on your lap. The room was dark but dim from the moon shining through your window. That word. Say it again.
*******.
Aug 2015 · 789
Another he/she poem
Bridget Allyson Aug 2015
He was broken.
She could see it even when he smiled.
He was a haunting melody.
One in which she wanted to change.
He was lost inside himself.
She gathered her flashlight and went on a search.
But he looked so happy.
She knew he wasn’t.
He told her his secret.
She didn’t flinch.
He was surprised by her.
*She didn’t leave.
Aug 2015 · 337
Finding Peace
Bridget Allyson Aug 2015
They say that the key to finding peace is within yourself.
They say that you can find it in your heart.
But how can you even find your heart underneath all the arrows your brain shoots at it?
Underneath the blood and bone, muscles and skin?
How can you find your heart if it hides behind fear?
Fear is not your friend.
I know, it makes you think it's an ally when really it's trying to break you down,
Snap you like a twig,
So that you will become nothing but small pieces.
Dig deep, friend.
Here is my shovel and here is my shield ready to defend.
The key to finding peace within yourself,
Is to stop, and listen.
Focus on the things you value.
For my friends who are having trouble finding who they are
Aug 2015 · 842
My Sleep-Deprived Friend
Bridget Allyson Aug 2015
My sleep-deprived friend.
You should be sleeping.
I'm sure you were told that many times and were never able to take their advice.
I want you to know,
That you're safe.
There is no monster under the bed.
No, the moon isn't going to catch you.
Your dreams, are only dreams.
Rest now.
You're still a child.
Your day tomorrow is big.
Yet you lie here, not able to sleep.
Close your eyes.
Let yourself fall.
You're only falling into a garden of roses.
A field of daisies.
You will sit under an apple tree and listen to the soft breeze.
Rest now, friend.
The night won't get any shorter.
Aug 2015 · 1.3k
If Ever I Were To Remember
Bridget Allyson Aug 2015
If ever I were to remember
I would remember the sunset
A day ends to make room for new beginnings.

If ever I were to remember, anything at all
I would remember when she cried
So helpless for her daughter.

And if ever I were to remember
I'd remember how souls danced
Because mine might not ever
Again.
Aug 2015 · 425
3 Hearts.
Bridget Allyson Aug 2015
I withheld my breath as the shameful event appeared in front of me.
3 hearts died, yet their bodies were still standing.
How?
I learned, that one of those hearts had died long before this.
If I'd known, I might have saved him.
But my heart died too.
And unlike the others, my body gave.
Heavy, as it fell.
You can't catch yourself, I learned.

I cried a fearful tear as three hearts died.
Two bodies stood firm.
Their souls left weakened.
One the weakest
Until
His body died too.
Jul 2015 · 822
Forgetting you
Bridget Allyson Jul 2015
Forgetting you wasn't hard.
After all,
You forgot me first.
Jul 2015 · 843
Panic Room
Bridget Allyson Jul 2015
It needs to just leave me alone.
Let me sleep.
Leave me with thoughts of love.
Not thoughts of panic.

Welcome to my Panic Room.
Where instead of sleep,
Thoughts of terror come into play.
And I can feel the swelling of my throat;
As if I were allergic to the tragedy.
My heart beats as if it were a horse race.

Welcome to my Panic Room.
Where a bed lay in the center.
One I wish to sleep upon and dream of fearing nothing.
Yet I sit in the corner;
All curled up to protect myself from the monster that's coming.
Only to realize, every time,
The monster is inside me.
Jul 2015 · 679
Someone out there
Bridget Allyson Jul 2015
What if someone was out there?
Someone to wipe your tears
Someone to teach you new meaning of "I'm okay"
Someone to show you what happiness was
What if someone was out there?
Would you then come off that ledge?
Jul 2015 · 857
Title
Bridget Allyson Jul 2015
Love came.
Love left.
It was romantic.
It was ugly.
He gave her a rose.
That was half dead and bought for $2.99.
She took it and smiled.
She allowed herself.
He kissed her.*
She kissed him, knowing it would be the last time he saw her.
Help me come up with a real title to this???
Jul 2015 · 854
My Battery Is Low
Bridget Allyson Jul 2015
My battery is low.
Can you find my charger?
You can find it between my coffee and my laptop.
Behind my depression and anxiety.
Underneath those people I still call friends even though I haven't seen them or a year.
And for those friends that I saw last week,
It feels like a year since I've spoken to them.
My storage is full of memories that aren't even mine, words I can't repeat, songs I don't even listen to.
I know I need to update my software, update to a better version of myself.
But until I can do that, I need to find my charger.
Jul 2015 · 216
To Eryn
Bridget Allyson Jul 2015
When she told me how she felt,
I felt the same.
I don't know if we'll be friends forever.
But I know because of you I'm not afraid to keep going.
Because of you, I'm not afraid to keep singing to the birds.
Because I know, that when I'm with you,
You'll gladly sing along.
Jul 2015 · 816
My Name is Memory
Bridget Allyson Jul 2015
A memory is like a movie that plays back,
Over and over.
The definition of memory is an event that has past.
One that you still remember.
So if I remember every word,
Every story our tears told,
Then my name is memory.
Nice to meet you.
Jul 2015 · 6.6k
When we first met
Bridget Allyson Jul 2015
Across time,
Across space,
Never again,
Will I see your face.

Across the galaxies,
Through the stars,
Do you remember,
When it was ours?

Of course you do,
Never forget,
That cold afternoon,
When we first met.
Jun 2015 · 395
Addiction
Bridget Allyson Jun 2015
I hate beaches.
My mother always liked them.
They were so cold and lonely.
The water was too salty.
Why did she like them?
Because it was lonely.

People like things that are bad for them.
She was addicted to the loneliness,
I had a friend addicted to *******.
Another, addicted to cigarettes.
And I'm addicted to pain.

Sometimes, more often than not,
I give myself nightmares.
Just so I would cry.
The throb of my heart,
The swelling of my throat,
I enjoy that.

I give the pain to myself so much
That I want to punch it out of me.
Then I wonder why I do it.

I guess that's what addiction is.
You know it reeks havoc on you.
But you still want it.
Jun 2015 · 642
Collaboration anyone??
Bridget Allyson Jun 2015
So this isn't a poem... But I've decided to ask on here (Instead of keep asking on instagram: @Maybeiloveyoutoo)
I'm looking for someone to do a collab with. Either poetry or a story. Right now I'm looking for a call & response kind of poetry collab. And for a story I'm open to ideas, just keep in mind writing crime and gore, or even ****** content is hard and uncomfortable for me.
So,  any takers? Just message me!
Any poems written will be put on my HelloPoetry and instagram account. And as for the story, if it is finished, I will put it on my Wattpad.
(Will give half credit to you)

I'll end this with an exert I just finished writing.
"Don't you want to fall in love?" She looked at him with hope in her eyes.
"Love is a fairytale," he replied, looking up to the evening sky.
"Fairytales don't sound so bad right now," she frowned. He looked down at her. His face showed no emotion.
"Yes, they do," he said, "If you go into a fairytale, then you won't see the reality that lies in front you."
"Then let me live a beautiful lie," she whispered.
May 2015 · 9.1k
The Soul He Needs
Bridget Allyson May 2015
The soul he needs,
It should be wise.
It should be sweet.
It should care.
Their feelings should be strong, but not too overwhelming.
It must like the closeness of his body.
The soul he needs,
Must be strong.
It must be tender.
The soul he needs,
Should be a soul like his.
About my boyriend
May 2015 · 2.8k
Pain Keeps Me
Bridget Allyson May 2015
Pain keeps me
From losing myself.
It reminds my heart,
that it likes to beat.
It reminds my lungs,
To never stop breathing.
Pain keeps me here.
Grounded.
Sane.
Happy.
May 2015 · 218
Memorial Day Poem
Bridget Allyson May 2015
They geared up,
And flew away.
They fought.
They fell.
And they'll be remembered.
May 2015 · 314
Hikue
Bridget Allyson May 2015
We drove around.
With just the sound of the engine.
Sweet serenity.
May 2015 · 403
Dance of Joy
Bridget Allyson May 2015
I remember, that quiet night.
The trees were dark but the stars lit up the sky.
The lonely sidewalk was lit by the fading street light.
I remember, you asked me to walk out to the deck.
I pulled on a sweater because I was cold.
You met me there, flower in hand.
I remember.
You swept me up and told me you had been waiting.
I said I was sorry.
You kissed me, and I tasted pure love on your lips.
Our movement, like poetry, moved me in a way I hadn't before.
I remember, that dance of joy we shared that night.
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