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 Oct 2018
Valerie
i just want to see you happy,
even if it doesn't
include me.
 Oct 2018
savspoetry
*      *      *      and you are      *      *            
   *           *  just­ like the moon *      *          
*        *   *      -----so, alone-----      *      *    
   *      *    but you shine bright  *      *    
*     *            at the darkest  *      *     *
   *      *      *     of times  *      *      *      *    
*           *           *           *         *          
 Oct 2018
Meera
Some poets write with pen
And others with pain
Just a random thought...
 Oct 2018
SC Kelley
My eyes bleed with exhaustion.

My thoughts are fuzzy like my brain is stuffed with styrofoam.

My body sinks into the ugly carpet floor of my basement.

My mouth tastes sour with the flavor of an unslept soul.

I lie here writing instead of sleeping because it feels like the only thing I can do well, consciously.

My back aches with an elders pain at late seventeen.

I crave the warm embrace of my bed but am too stuck like sap to move.

I'm rambling here in my brain instead of resting my frigid existence.

My thoughts are slow and choppy now with the hesitation of drifty words.

My rusted, chipping ears hear nothing but silence and a distant coo-coo clock.

The chirps of a bird only found in my dark, dusty insanity.

The world weighs upon children such as these in a universe such as this.

I'm just, tired. Tired...

~S.C. Kelley
Take it as you will. This **** is crazy.
 Oct 2018
SC Kelley
Why is it that when I start to feel alive,
It feels like the wrong thing to do?

Why is it that I am convinced that I don't deserve the greatness I'm gifted?

Why is it that the warmth I feel is always quickly faded and frozen?

Why is it that when it feels like the final victory, the war is just beginning?

Why is it that I am secretly the monster I swore to despise?

~S.C. Kelley
When will my soul be freed?
 Oct 2018
Semicolon
Have you ever seen a sunflower reaching out to the sun, following him wherever he goes?

Or an evening water lily shying away and blushing under her lovely pink at all times when the sun is in the sky?

Have you ever seen a dandelion break herself into countless little pieces and fly away to places unbeknownst, just to make herself full again?

Have you ever seen a rose, apprehensive of what might destroy him, guarding himself with numerous thorns, yet so beautiful that you can’t help but ignore his thorns?

Have you ever seen daisies growing through the cracks in the sidewalk, reminding you to look for beauty even when you can’t?

Have you ever seen flowers? Then you have seen love; for flowers are nothing, but love.
"Flowers are love's truest language"
– Søren Kierkegaard

© Semicolon
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