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 Nov 2013
Becky S
I recognize her and run
but she chases me into the darkest
corners where I cower and feel the
anxiety thrum like musical chords in
a restless tempo. She drowns me but
I still seem to be gasping for air. I try
to scream but the clenching in my
stomach won’t disappear. She shields
me in her sensitivity as she consumes
my mind—forcing her way into my
unsuspecting thoughts. She captures
my attention for her own use. She’s
everywhere I look, she’s the only thing
I feel deep inside. She becomes the
blood rushing through my veins and the
skin covering my trembling bones. She’s
the monster under my bed and the one
living in the depths of my closet. She has
become the darkness of my life, and
I can’t seem to escape.
I got a lot of the ideas for this poem from various other poems so if you see anything similar to someone else's that's why.
 Nov 2013
Becky S
after a long day
I often find myself
resting my head upon
a fluffy cushion of feathers
where I recollect my thoughts
and anticipate for tomorrow
the silky layer of cotton
relaxes and puts me at ease
so delicately
like dust particles
floating through the air
I can smell the trace
of my own unique scent
when snuggling closely besides it
before closing my eyes
and leaving reality for a while
it’s amazing how the simplicity
of laying my head down
on the soft mass of cotton
can soothe my bones
and make my blood
rush calmly through my body
the thought of writing about it
makes me long for the feeling
of nestling in the warmth
so I could close my eyes
and fall soundly asleep
This poem's assignment was to really focus on observational details, and obviously, I picked a pillow for this poem's subject :-)
 Nov 2013
Becky S
too many times
filled up to the rim
with your morning coffee
it becomes damaged
and breaks away
eventually deteriorating
from the inside out
it’s no longer pleasant to hold
or smooth to the touch
as you read the morning paper
cupping the warmth in your hands
and as it chips deeper and deeper
the coffee begins to seek through
the crevices and tiny holes
when sooner or later
it ends up making its way
to the back of the cabinet
where the broken items are kept
it may not be your favorite coffee cup
(anymore) but rather it is a place that holds
the memories and confessions
of the morning conversations we shared
with our raspy voices and smiles
that effortlessly fell into the cracks
and will last as time goes on
This poem's assignment was to really focus on observational details, and the object I picked was a shattered coffee cup.
 Nov 2013
Becky S
a venerable set of pearls
got placed on her bare skin
as she felt the coldness
rush through her body

she glanced down
to readjust the gold clasp
seeing her matte red lips
in their polished reflection

the cream-colored pearls
felt so heavy on her neck
and made her nervous heart
seem to sink into her chest

they were her grandmother’s
her mom told her long ago
as she imagined seeing her grandma
walk down the aisle so beautifully

she held onto the pearls
with fond memories of love
as she opened her mouth
and said the words

“I do”
This poem's assignment was to really focus on observational details. After hours and hours of searching for the perfect item, I came across my grandma's pearls that were handed down to me from generations. I decided to base my poem's subject on the idea of the pearls.
 Nov 2013
Becky S
its sad how teenagers feel alone
surrounded by others upset in their
room with their thoughts while from
good families and happy childhoods yet
mistreated by those who could not
understand them feeling no meaning for
their life no one to support them forgetting
to remind themselves scars will heal and
smiles will return and monsters inside will
disappear if i could tell them one thing it
would be you are never too broken sure
you have scars and fragile memories but
then again all great survivors do
This poem was inspired by an E.E Cummings's poem. It's not my favorite but I really like the idea of it, and I hope to improve it over time :-)
 Nov 2013
Becky S
i want to write the way i think
always obsessing over simple things
always continuing without interruption
always going farther than necessary

i want my words to flow
like raindrops down a window pane
like a fish traveling with a river stream
like the traffic on a highway at 4:00 am

i want to write on and on
until i feel like breaking down
until i am unable to catch my breath
until i don't endure pain anymore

i want my thoughts
to keep alive hopes and dreams
to run freely from my mind to paper
to create warm feelings of love

i want to write about you
This poem was inspired by an E.E Cummings's poem. I was experimenting with the use of repetition.
 Nov 2013
Becky S
dull and lifeless buildings
line the streets like a barricade
blocking the only sunlight
casted down on the cityscape

a murky shadow is scattered
onto the sidewalks and cars
making those walking below
feel as if they are trapped

misty clouds float their way
towards the busy streets
creating gloom up ahead
as it moves in like a plague

a soft chatter is heard
under the loud, repetitive sound
of cars beeping their horns
and the city life buzzing about

darkened parallel windows
are intricately placed on the edge
of crumbling brick and cement
somehow not letting any light in

what a desolate location in a city
supposedly full of life
This poem was based on an image my creative writing teacher gave us in class. It was a very lifeless picture of what appeared to be NYC. I decided to take a more observational path with it, and so this came about.
 Nov 2013
Becky S
i am overly emotional
(i am extremely insensitive)
i am too stubborn
(i let people walk all over me)
i always push people away
(i wonder why everyone leaves)

i am a great listener
(i talk too much sometimes)
i put others before me
(i forget about myself)
i find joy in the simple things
(i take too much for granted)

(i am not the brightest star in the sky)
but i am good enough to be compared to the moon
(i can’t always write you poems or draw you pictures)
(yet) nothing will ever convey how much you mean to me

i will get mad at you sometimes
(i will love you always)
i will notice your flaws
(and i’ll overlook your imperfections)

but i have many flaws too
and not one of them is loving you
This poem was inspired by one of E.E Cummings's :-)
 Nov 2013
Becky S
i turn back
and forth
restlessly
in bed

a nostalgic
breeze comes
t  h  r  o  u  g  h
and en
folds

i become numb

thoughts
wander
in my head

the summer air
is hot but i
am cold

i try closing my eyes

but the memories
keep me awake

your voice
stood out
from the
other guys

but dear
you’re some
thing i cannot
partake

it’s hard to watch
the past as it
f   a   d   e   s
a  w  a  y

i built the
                     t
                     a
walls            l
around         l
my heart      e
                      s
                       t

you promised to
make me happy
each day

i held on for so
long but soon
fell a p
          a r
              t

“how come you
didn’t stay?”

my heart mistrusts

and i wonder why
you gave up
on us
The formatting of this poem is a little messed up from my word doc but this is one of the first poems I've ever written for a school assignment.

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