feelings - Hello Poetry

Mar 2019

b e mccomb

i dread the day you learn
for the first time that
you can't just love all
the darkness in me away

and no matter how much
you care i will still toss
and turn at night and scars
might still appear on my skin

i dread the day you realize
that you can't cure me
and sometimes all you can do
is stand next to me and
hold my hand through fog
pouring out of my ears so black
and thick we can't even see
each other's faces

i dread the days i can't
get out of bed
the days you want to
take me out and all
i can manage is a prettified
shell of myself

i dread the day you learn
that sometimes no matter
how hard i try i still can't
pull myself together

the day you learn that
there isn't an answer
you can give that will
save me from my fears

you aren't the first person
who has tried to love the
darkness inside away
my family and friends
have given it their all
but someday you too will learn
that if love could
cure mental illness
the world would be
a much better place

copyright 8/6/18 b. e. mccomb

#love #depression #mentalillness

Nov 2017

The tail of two souls

Im so close to death, its my best friend

I smoke **** just like you.
Money gives me greed just like you.
******* makes me wonder just like you.
My parents kicked me out when i was 17 just like you.
I died inside when i turned 13 just like you.
I saw life for what it was a 7 just like you.
I want to die everyday just like you.
I think about killing myself just ljke you.
I don't like money just like you.
I love the moon just like you.
I love the idea of love just like you.
Most important im not alone, just like you.

For everyone younger than my 23 years that's ready to go i feel your pain.

Jul 2017

Renée C

Heaven

is opening my front door
and seeing your face
in living, breathing color
finally, finally
I've missed you
get in here

is talking with you
for hours about everything and
laughing at the guy in the
grocery store who was
pushing guacamole like a drug
and inappropriate jokes and
quantum physics

is your hands in my hair
running through it so gently and
cupping my face
your fingertips on my skin
skimming lightly
making goosebumps rise
and fall and
rise again

is the taste of you
your/my hand balled up
a fist in my/your hair
a hand on the throat
nails down the back
bruised lips and
hitched breath
and just who is
holding who, here?

is looking in your eyes and swimming in an ocean of blue
drifting to sleep in your arms
or dancing with you in the car

is falling in love with you
and the surprise of
feeling that headlong
rush once more that
I thought was just a symptom of
first love; fleeting and never
to be felt again

I know this one is a long one. Believe me I could go on and on forever about this. I haven't felt this happy in a very long time.

#love

Jun 2017

Hope White

Sunday

I didn't even ask
To be your sun
Or your moon.

All I wanted
was to be
Your Sunday afternoons.

How many empty calendars spaces
I wasted,
Waiting for you.

#goodbye

May 2017

Marshall B Mulkey

(p)l(a)to(nic)

my love for
her
is strictly
platonic,
because what else
could it be?

I sit on her
couch
and smile at every
single
word she says.
Her soft hand
touches
my knee, exposed
by my shorts,
as she laughs.
Out of nowhere she states,
“I like the
idea
of heaven, but
only
if there’s not a
hell.”
I realize then what
triggered
that statement.
we were talking about religion,
ironic to me is just that,
we were talking about religion
while I worship the
ground
she walks on.

My love for
her
is strictly
platonic,
I worship her,
but only as a
friend.

#relationships #love #platonic

May 2017

sanch kay

i like writing you poetry.

i like writing you poetry -
at 2 am, night lights glowing through
rain streaked windows, i listen to the city
and wish you'd listen to me.

i like writing you poetry -
angsty little love notes where
every word betrays the cool countenance
i otherwise wear on my face when
we're warring with our words but
teasing with our tongues.

i like writing you poetry -
it's where i can tell you the stories
that belong to the dead of the night
and the dead of my heart.

i like writing you poetry -
because it's the only way
i can tell you that i love you
*without you ever having to know.

hello, love.

#love #relationship #thoughts #muse #writing #letters #feels #littleletterpoetry #mymuse

May 2017

mk

last love.

don't tell me about your first love-
tell me about your last.

tell me how he made you believe in love
when you thought your time had passed.

tell me how he made you feel
when you thought the butterflies were dead.

tell me how you tried silencing your heart
and all the crazy thoughts in your head.

tell me how he taught you
to love just a little bit again.

tell me how it was like taking your first step
how it was like to once more begin.

tell me how you thought your heart was dead
how you'd been hurt too many times before

tell me how you saw yourself falling for him
and constantly wanting more.

tell me how you thought you weren't worthy of love
tell me how all those thoughts vanished with one touch

a year, a decade, a century
how no time with him was too much

tell me how he excites you
how you're seeing colors you didn't know existed.

tell me how you finally gave in to giving love another chance
how you couldn't fight it, no matter hard you resisted.

tell me how you thought that love just wasn't for you
tell me how being with him makes you feel love is just for you.

tell me how the world seems just a little better
tell me how the grass is greener, the sky a little more blue.

tell me about your last love;
the one who really stayed.

how he's the missing piece of the puzzle
the one for whom you always prayed.

tell me about your last one
the one standing by your bed.

the one you hold on to a second too long
before you forever rested your head.

-

#love #last

Oct 2016

mk

there must be a place where broken words go

there must be a place where broken words go
the ones without a limb
not fully formed
not spoken right
not heard

there must be a place where broken words go
the sentences left uncompleted
the trailing words that never left the lips
the "but" and the "and"
that were always left hanging

somewhere between silence and speech
there must be a place where broken words go
full of stutters and writers block sufferers
somewhere between the "i love"
and the "you" that never followed
or the "wait"
that was whispered into the air
the "please come back"
that made peace with dying
on the corners of a turning mouth

there must be a place where broken words go
the words spoken but never heard
the letters written but never posted
the train of thought that crashed into the clouds
the words in the bottle that traveled the sea
but sunk to the bottom before it could ever reach

there must be a place where my broken words go
the stains on my diary that didn't come from a pen
and the letters on my thighs that don't make sense
the things i could never say
and the things i said that came out all wrong
all the broken alphabets in my song
that cry for salvation
for one more chance

there must be a place where broken words go
there must be a place i can call home.

#poetry #broken #words #home #silence #speech #stutter

Oct 2016

Denel Kessler

Season's End

you will go your way
despite my protests
no use lamenting
what was never promised
the sun rides low the horizon
soon it will not clear the treetops
storms gather in the northern sea
needled wind to scattered seed
hoary frost on yellowed grass
dark leaves in mirrored puddles
a suspended death
crystalline and indeterminate
there is no fire hot enough
to stave off the first chill
of a careless winter
the numb hibernating sleep
soft gray melting days
the desperate wish
to regain summer

Hello my poet friends! What a lovely surprise to wake up to this blustery morning. Thank you for sticking with me through a crazy summer of sporadic posts - you are all wonderful. Much love!
: )