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5.0k · Nov 2018
Kissed by Fire
The Mellon Nov 2018
Mamma always told me-
I was struck motionless at the sight of her
Son,
Don't let me catch you playin' with fire.-
Her hair was ablaze
One of these days you're gonna get burned. -
Yet I am but a moth to her flame
Two poems in one, because 2 is always better than one.
3.4k · Aug 2018
Long Distance
The Mellon Aug 2018
A day like today is but that,
Another **** day.

Just me,
My self,
My own personal swamp.
A bed ready to share...
Next to the desk you set your hair ties on.
Above the floor you set your bags on when you visit.

But today is just another **** day without you.

But a day like tomorrow,
Oh but a day like tomorrow...

There will be hair ties on my desk,
Extra bags on my floor,
And best of all someone here to share my bed with.
So that tomorrow will not be just another day,

But a day where long distance becomes short,
Even for just a few short days.
I love you and can't wait to see you tomorrow.
2.9k · Oct 2018
People
The Mellon Oct 2018
People are beautiful,

However.

Pretty people please a perverted industry,
Of powerful men
Preferring **** to passion to progress,

Preferring ******* productions over
#metoo protests
As mr. president likes to grab 'em by the p..

Provoking pain-passing-fists
Pulsating pro-rights protests,
Journalists plee for coverage praying no one pulls a
Knife and produces plumes of blood from the press
All while
Young picassos paint Guernica in America.

A broken people of a nation perpatrating hate-

Where red plus blue can only make purple-
But dark blue and dark red parish and persecuted plee for due process?

Plain racism profoundly perpatrates power and policy because polititions prefer power over people!

A parchment in hand is worth two poor people on the shores of Philippine islands passing pork bones around on plastic forks polluteing ashore to portion a pathetic excuse for super.

Admittedly population proceeding proper capacity depleting the recourse needed per proper production for product based programs-
-tax breaks produce proper rich persons-
Poor penny pedalers paddle street corners prostituting their dinner from someone's porch steps.

Pathetic "Presidential" GOPs
Catapaulting propaganda past press outlets producing media paranoia.

Piranhas perhaps are the least problematic politition ashore.
Petulance is peace right?

Perhaps Palestinian misplacement and
Poor communication produce
A melting *** per pound of C 4
Blasting
Terrarist propaganda pasted
On highways toting plywood posters
Providing hate.

Parasitic politics polluting a proud nation
Patrolled by plastic islands and pay-per-view gun violence.
Police brutality providing protection for
Parkland shooting,
The NRA having premeditated lawsuits against progress

Programs protecting people getting
Passed-

-Sorry blocked,

By political party(s)
Preferring deep pockets to
Public safety

Appocoliptic predictions
Loom in present day policy
As unreputable "science" papers
Preach lies to gospel preachers

Perhaps human problems
Produce paper cuts
Peeling skin to skin
For radical apologies to bleed out,

Perhaps bleeding pools
Poor out filling
Evaporated paradise
With EPA Pruit's preference of
Proper science.

Perhaps penguins and polar bears
Produced proper plans:

Die off before the planet plummets per plume cloud of nuclear power.
Or more likely planetary pestilence
For people.
Inspired by Harry Bakers poem "Paper People"
2.0k · Jan 2019
American Dream, well. Sorta.
The Mellon Jan 2019
This land is your land,
This land is my land.

This land is our land,
But Not a black land,

Not from sea to shining sea.

Attention Mexicans everywhere!

This land is not your land,
This land is our land,
Home of the free!
(Some requirements apply)

God bless America,
Where at least I know I'm free,
Home of the ignorant,
Yet land of the free,
(Skin color based exceptions)

Happy Happy new Year!
New year to You and Me!

Happy Happy new year,
Except for your country,
(Build the wall!)

Dreidel Dreidel Dreidel,
I made it out of clay,
If the makers Muslim,
Please don't explode I pray.

Lastly,
America the beautiful,
As hypocritical dumpster fires tend to be.
This is a sarcastic poem depicting the worse of America. I do not believe these racist sexist etc. comments.
1.8k · Dec 2016
Skipping Stones
The Mellon Dec 2016
Skip a stone across a still pond,
Creating ripples of obscurity.

Skip a stone across a river
Screaming I believe,
I believe.

Who can know with sure and sound
That rocks will make their presence found?

Maybe so if rocks are shy
They may quietly skip on by.

Little to you be known,
Rocks can snarl as they go.

So if you mean no harm
Take steady aim before you throw,

Because skipping a stone across a pond
Is a whole lot more chaotic
Than skipping in a river.


Skipping in a pond is profound
Lasting until the edges had eroded.

Skipping in a river is forgotten.
Rock swallowed up.

Know your goal before release
A single stone can shatter peace;

A single stone can go unknown
But leave it's seed to be grown.

Know the change you want to see,
So you can release your stone Carfully.
I dunno. It popped into my head. Maybe it will make sence to one of you. Beats me where the hell this came from or what it means, please, let me know if you know.
1.7k · Nov 2016
Dear future wife
The Mellon Nov 2016
I don't know if I know you yet,
I'm only 19 after all.

I don't know if I've made you laugh,
But I can already hear it now.

I've probably made you smile,
I'm sure it made my day.

I probably even once have made you cry,
I hope it was forgivable.

I know one things for sure,
Future wife.

I already love you.
1.2k · Oct 2018
Molly Jane Berrus
The Mellon Oct 2018
Your name means many things my sweet.

Your first is a continuation of many before. A take on a name well loved.

It resembles family narrative and new beginnings,
Yet it brings back memories of old favorite books.

Though she didn't know it your middle means a lot too.
My grandmothers name, may it someday pass to you.
I'm sure she would love you, and your mother, she was a spitfire too after all.

Though she didn't mean for me to see, I love the choice and all it means to me, least I know it means something to you too.

Lastly comes Berrus, my family namesake.
We don't come from much,
But we offer all that we are.

We will put food on the table and a roof overhead and we will be
Fiercely Loyal.
We arnt known for always making well thought out decisions,
But we always try to do what we think is right.

So long as I someday get to meet you
Molly Jane Berrus.
1.0k · Jun 2016
I've been meaning to say
The Mellon Jun 2016
There are some things I have wanted to say.
Stories I've wanted to tell

I wanted to tell you how the moon, on that special lunar occasion,
How it is red not because of the blood moon,
Rather because it is the reflection of a thousand sunsets all on one canvas.

Or I could tell you about that old lady I saw on the street the other day

How the wrinkles on her ***** hands matched that on her torn shirt.
How those wrinkles looked like waving rows of wheat to the bread she'll never eat

I could talk about the sunset!
Oh the sunset!
How the last ray of sun light is like that of the love of an old man who watched his wife of fifty years fall from cancer.
How even though his light is gone, he can still see her image refracted on the horizon, as if one last kiss to the world

I could talk about the young girl down the block,
The one who people call "fake" because she covers her face in foundation,
The same face her boyfriend left bruised and swollen.

I can talk about the girl I saw on my walk today.
The one who flinched every time her father raised his hand,
The one that wasn't holding his beer of course.

I could talk about sunsets.
I could talk about the beauty of the moon.
I could talk about a lot of things.

I could talk about poverty
I could talk about abuse or ****
I could talk about a lot of things

Society dictates that I should talk about the good things
I should talk about the sunset, and the butterflies
Oh! The butterflies!

Society is a lot like a butterfly
Its beautiful,
Free,
Alive

But society has heavy problems

Ones that "can't be talked about"

The weight of these problems will rip the wings from a butterfly.
Leaving it to fall to the Earth

Earth, where it will be forgotten
It will be stamped upon
It will be ignored

Until one day it dies
Until it's suddenly a tragedy,

What a pity
900 · Oct 2016
Pluviophile
The Mellon Oct 2016
Pluviophile
(n) a lover of rain;
someone who finds joy and peace of mind
during rainy days.

Its raining again, I smile
The shadows of the droplets
Flickering in the window are juxtaposed upon my face.

I watch the delicate lines run down along my skin

Two of them parallel with eachother form a tic-tac-toe board
Between the shadows and the scars along my wrist

I chuckle with the morbid humor of carving in my first move. X. Bottom right corner

It's a smart move. I can move many ways to leave my opponent helpless

Distracted, I look again out the window.
I think about how as a child I watched
Wide eyed with ecstasy as two drops
One right next to the other
Edging
Edging
Edging forward.
One racing the other

Both eager to reach the window pain where they will finally be free of my unforgiving gaze

Last time I watched two drops race like that they were red.
The poor wood floor was stained with their bitter victory

I think now about that race.
Breaking my trance my eyes shutter over to the throw rug that I hide my sins under

I walk over and stand upon it.
I can just barely see the window from this angle.

I see the cold white tongue of lighting
Flickering it's serpents tongue in the distance

I remember a cold tongue.
The same one that degraded me
Told me nasty things

I remember walking threw the halls of school and hearing people muttering being me
'Look at her!'
'Hey guys who let the cattle out the barn?'
'Does she even own a shower?'
I felt spit sting the side of my face.

The crack of thunder brings me back,
I'm dizzy with displeasure
My blood has gone colder than before
Colder than the knife that cut me.

The rain intensifies as if it sees what I'm doing
What chaos I'm bestowing on myself

The smooth grip of my Father's 44 fits elegantly in my hand,
It feels like it's just an extension of myself,
As if it belongs there as much as my fingers do.
The chrome lined rifling grids out the direction of my bronze freedom fighter to fly

I look at the back of the barrel,
It reminds me of a toy spyglass I had when I was young,
**** the hammer

The thunder rumbles over the screams of my family...
I wrote this is a memento to how horrible depression is. It's not sugar coated. The fact that people don't like it when it is is nessisary. Those who beleave that depression shouldent be dark in explanation are those who need this the most. Editing credit to Anonymous Freak
897 · Jan 2019
Midnight Tears
The Mellon Jan 2019
My shoulder is damp.

It's been a rough week.

"College is tough kids"
Too bad they never told us it was never the work.

College is tough.
Because people are tough.

Because my friends sob every night because some
*******
Thought she was his God given right.

In the span of three months 3 of my friends are *****.
Yet their cries are an empty echo down the presidential hall.

So instead they cry.

Last night one of them told me,
I let him get close to me... we were friends. Now I'm scared to have guy friends... even you.

So my letter is

Dear ******* Everywhere,

Next time you think about touching a girl without concent, how about you go **** yourself with sandpaper instead.
-The guy losing his friend because you decided her body was your property
849 · Oct 2018
3 AM
The Mellon Oct 2018
It's almost three in the morning.

The problem is,
I'm not tired,
I'm Broken
843 · Jan 2017
The Cry of a Broken Wolf
The Mellon Jan 2017
A long ways off a wolf howls into the wood,
But their is no call back.
He howls again, the despair in his call echos back in the crying of song birds

The song they sing is picked up and repeated into the world.
A song so full of pain that people crumple to their knees in soundless agonie.

The wolf howls again,
Challenging the moon as to whome,
Whome is more alone in the universe,

The lonely one who travels the sky,
Or the broken one who has known company but for folly now goes without.

Even the moon grows colder with the grief of the wolf.

The wolf makes its own path around the world.
Where their isn't a trail he creates one,
The ground underneath being crushed with the weight of a heavy heart.

He searches the world,
Echoing his desperate howl across all seven seas.
Hoping someday to find,
Where his beloved does lie.
His howl replaced as a broken cry.
701 · Apr 2016
My Biggest Fear
The Mellon Apr 2016
When I was young, I was afraid of many things
There was darkness
But also what came out of darkness
There was spiders and bats because, well, because.

After a little while I lost some old fears,
Picked up new ones
Like, what I'd she dosent like me?
Am I going to get that grade?

Today I realized the pointlessness of those fears
As I witnessed many face my truest fear
I quickly cast my fears aside
As only one matters now

I am not afraid to die,
But I am afraid of outliving those I love

I fear going to my brothers funeral
Seeing him one last time
I fear my mother's and Father's
I love them both so dearly

I fear loosing the one I love
Seeing the face awake next to mine no more
I fear outliving the kids I'll someday have
As no father should have to watch their child die

I fear the loss of my friends
I would be nothing without
To say it would brake me would not be enough
I would shatter and do so twice

I sat in a funeral today
Tears along with the rest
Realizing how precious
Each. Person. Is.

I praised God for the life I have
I thanked Him for my health
But I didn't pray for my protection
I pray for those I love

So no, I do not fear the dark
I fear kneeling next to the casket
Gazing at the loved one lost
And seeing their smile no more
692 · Jul 2016
Redemption
The Mellon Jul 2016
The woods were floating
With song.
The light winked out at the trees
Burning in my soul

I felt my faith burst to life the same way a spark lights a fire,
Then just as easy as it was ignited
The icy breeze of doubt suffocated the spark of my heart

I was hopelessly lost in the dark
I floundered and fell

I felt like a rock in river,
Jutting up from the water,
Interrupting the current.

I felt like I didn’t belong, in Your sea of believers,
That I wasn’t clean enough to be of Your grace.

But Your waters eroded my harsh edges
And softened me to You.

I could live in the roaring water of Your love,
I could finally breathe with my head underneath Your waves.

My soul was a raging fire,
The eyes of the demons that haunted me
Glittered in the unknown.
Each pair of eyes, a question I knew not the answer to,
Prodding at my beliefs like iron in dying coals,
My mind would flicker to and fro
To and fro

Eventually I no longer had to look anywhere
I gazed down upon my dying embers of faith and saw a demon's eyes staring back at me

My face broke the surface of Your love,
And my lungs gulped in
The course air of doubt.

I left Your depths for the shallows,
Still there,
But no longer welcoming Your currents
Coursing around me.

The wind of voices telling me to leave You was strong,
And chilled my still damp skin,
Fresh from Your loving waves.
It made me shiver to hear them,
And long to be dry
And away from You, like them.
Washed up on the beach and alone.

The sharp stones on the shore away from You cut my feet, and I became calloused.
The only memory of You, was the drops of water still on my scalp.

I felt You stir my ashes
I felt the world stand still as Your breath coaxed fire from my coals
I felt the release of the wood pinning me down begin to kindle

I was reborn into fire
All that pushed and held me down now burned in my redemption
I watched as my light blew back darkness
I watched as my tormenters fled in awe of Your glory

I made a vow to let my light shine
It was good.

The air surrounding me became hot,
It burned wherever it touched,
And humidity clung to me,
Thick and sticky as molasses,
Choking my breaths
And ripping at my face.
I would watch Your waters for weeks,
Wishing to go home to You,
And tormenting myself with the idea that I couldn’t.

Then I watched Your Son sink into Your depths,
And the water glistened gold.
More desirable than any life I could lead away from You.

I dipped my fingers back into Your river
And You welcomed me.
You brushed the sands that had encased my body
Off of me and made me clean.
You healed the bruised parts of my heart,
And led me back home.
It was good.

*Saved, fire can burn upon water and water remain fluid in flame
No torrent of water will douse Your flame
No inferno will ever evaporate Your waters

You’re a gentle stream,
And a roaring fire.
You’re an army of crashing waves sweeping me from my feet,
And a gentle, crackling, dancing, light. Warmth filling the cold,
Your love is a hearth for me to rest at,
And an ocean to rage against evil.

Our shared relationship is fire and water.
Passion and tenderness
Love and love.
Though I stray from You,
You relight my flame,
And wash me of my wrongs.
You hold me close, and call me Yours,

You are Passion and Tenderness,
Awing and unchanging.
Love and love.
Love and love.
Love and love.
We mingle together to create
Peace
Tranquility and
Grace
Co author, Anonymous Freak. I haven't a clue how to add a co author, please msg me and tell me how.
652 · Jun 2016
Campfire
The Mellon Jun 2016
There is something uniquely powerful about a campfire

They can be small intiment family things.
Filled with s'mores and laughter

They can be grand bonfires whose flames
Flicker with the conviction that it too is as bright as a star

There is also the kind of fire at a late night church gathering.
The one that is built to last whilst the whole congregation sways to the praise of their God.

But then theres perhaps the best kind of fire.
The one that is surrounded by your friends.
One of them brought his acoustic guitar
He picks it up and starts playing
That girl you've had a crush on starts singing and you freeze.
The elegance of the guitar mixes with the rich voice of the girl
Together the sounds brings goosebumps to your arms
Tears to your eyes.
The only interruption is the crackle of the fire
The whole group, other than the singer
Is quite
Everyone holding their breath.
So that they don't disturb the moment
652 · Nov 2016
Broken Promises
The Mellon Nov 2016
I've dipped my pen in the ink well of love
And calligraphied my way into your heart

I've spent hours timing a rhyme so you could be mine this time

With my left hand I grabbed ahold of courage so with my right i could ask for yours

I would write my own eulogy if that's what it took to win you

You know last time I wrote about you
Last time I stated your parting wish
To not come after you again

I hope you forgive me
I've never been good at making wishes come true, but if you do
You could make mine come true instead.
614 · Sep 2016
Love and Pain
The Mellon Sep 2016
My world is a fire of ash and iron
Burning desire and ashen wishes
My ears bleed with the warning siren
As if a hammers kisses'

Punch me in the chest
Breaking threw my sternum
All my verses for her are my best
But the blazing hammer demands I burn them

Charcoal confetti showers us
More than rice ever will
Brand me with our plea of trust
Then to our trust must we ****

Let us vanquish this blaze
Douse our fire under water
Let's think of the many ways
Let it graduate us as its alma mater

Like good students let's learn our lesson
So we don't have to bring eachother pain
Let us look at eachother and count it a blessin
Leave behind our crimson stain

But sooner or later one of us will fall off the deep end
So if not bit by fire
To the deepest depths we descend
Stabbed by our beloved Rose's briar

Into the depths of accusations
We arrive at the same vocation
Needing proper annotation
For a change in our relation
Tune us to a different station
So we can leave this filthy crustacean
Let be heard the deceleration
I'm moving to a different nation
Call it a love vacation
I'm leaving this deformation
This demoralization
This incarnation
But wait

What about desperation
For jubilation
And my reclamation
Of a chance for replication
With Reformation
Maybe a salvation
For our situation
Maybe threw communication
We can fix this obliteration
Of our love
584 · Jun 2016
Do not read this Poem
The Mellon Jun 2016
I said not to read this,
Foolish child
It's to late now
Or can you stop?

It is temptation
To know fear
In the flesh

Now don't worry child
It will only hurt
A little

Do you remember
Those dark nights
Turning off the lights
And sprinting to your bed

As dark shadows
Slashed at your
Shaking ankle

Heart pounding
As the dark sets on
Thickly
A syrup filling your lungs

How the sheets.
They were your protection
Wraped tightly around you
Nothing could penetrate them

But as the night sets in
Not even light can save you now
As the flickering of candles
Cast light upon aproching shadows

Oh the cold
The shivers
The standing hair
Your sheets a permafrost
Freezing you in place

Only able to watch in fear
Shadows lapping hungrly at your bed
As things unknown
Approach

The sounds
The gentle squeek of floorboards
The bruixng of incisors

Sorounding you
Enveloping you

You feel it
The vibration
Of a hundred warm bodies
Nawing
Clawing
Pounding into your skull

Theres no escape
No way
It's far to late now
Think you can sleep?
Do you really want to close your eyes?

Is that wise?
Do you think your alone?
Are you that foolish?
Why don't you open your eyes

Let me enlighten you
Let the dark come to the light
Let your fear
Become flesh

Don't worry child
It will only hurt
A little
Reposted from poetfreak
The Mellon Jun 2017
I'm in love and there's nothing I can do about it.

It wasn't on purpose,
So don't give me that look.

I didn't choose this folly,
It is doomed before it will begin.

You see. I'm not in love with just
A cute face
Or a nice smile

I'm in love with Grace
And it's been coming for awhile.

I knew her when I was young.
I guess you could say she's my childhood hero.

You know most people look to Superman-
Or wonder woman-
Someone.

I looked up to the person who saved my life.

No she didn't take a bullet or anything.
She talked to me.
She became my friend.

My first one at the age of 11

Sure I had a couple people I called friends,
But they couldn't match this girl.

She boggled my mind.

I was suicidal.
With Grace I loved life.

Nothing there has changed.

She drove me to become who I am today.

So here I am now.

Nineteen and in love.
There's nothing to do.
I know she's not interested, and we're both leaving the area for college.
So I'm in love, and there's nothing I can do.

So do me a favor, and tell the person you love that you do,
Because it's something I won't be able to do.
519 · Dec 2018
Friendship
The Mellon Dec 2018
Friends are like bad days,

They seem to be fine most of the time,
Then they decide to
Stab you in the back
And ask you if your ok?
You seem pale,
As I bleed to death on the floor.

But it's alright, clearly they cared about my well being.
Stabbing me was for my own good.

It only nearly ruined the rest of my life.

But hey, what are bad friends for anyway?
477 · Aug 2017
Thief
The Mellon Aug 2017
There is a thief among us.
One so stealthy and sneaky-
A shadow on the wall would be too loud for her stealth.

How then do I know she is here?
And how do I know that she is a she?

Well that's because she stole the heart right out of me.

I never saw it coming,
I was to blind...
To thickheaded,
I admit even to selfish.

I had this thief in front of me

One year.
She had beautiful red hair that could make a cardinal weep.
She had a smile and a blush just as bright.

Yet she snuck under my radar.

She stealthed her way two more years
Always there
Always connected
Always noticed
But never known.  

Then she made her move.
In the dead of night,
While we were on the phone.
She spoke seven clever words.

Seven words spoken true can make anyone fall for you.

Then she called threw my screen.
She reached her tender hands into my soul and caressed my heart, and taking part of it with her she retreated.

But not to hide.
She blew her cover.
Now she had part of me, and I part of her

I know who she is,
And I know that I want her in my life.
Inspiration for seven words segment credited to Patrick Rothfus, author of the King Killer Chronicles
468 · Jun 2016
To look up to God
The Mellon Jun 2016
Four days before tomorrow a boy was sitting at youth group
It was dark and he could see billions of stars

He heard the deep voice of his Pastor asking the kids to look up
He wanted them to realize that looking up is not just literal
By looking at the beauty of the cosmos they could also see God

The Pastor explained how we as humans don't look up enough; not to God

He said to the kids and the boy:
"You know, the world is a really heavy place.
Every day a new pressure is placed upon humanity.

This weight prevents us from looking up to God
It turns us away.

Others it pushes them to their knees,
They sit there and pray
And pray
And pray
But they can't get up"

The boy glanced up and saw that his Pastor had a guitar out

The Pastor asked his students to rise to their feet to praise.

He strummed some soothing cords and he praised God
They raised their voice to the heavens and sang to God together

The Pastor spoke in between his songs.
He asked his students
He asked them to raise their hands
He asked them to look to the sky and Praise
He asked them to sing each song as a prayer

When they were all sat down the Pastor asked them a question.
He asked:
"Why, did I have you raise your hands"

All of them were quite for a minute.

Then the boy said something.
He said:
"We raised our hands to hold up the sky.
We used our hands to hold up the pressure of the world, and we prayed to God for help."

The boy, empowered by the butterflies in his heard. She shivers in his skin. The clearness of his sight. He added:

If the whole world raised their hands for praise,
All the world's pressure could end

"We could raise our hands in church
In mosque's
In synagogue's
In our homes

Then nobody would have to fight
Nobody would have to starve
Nobody would have to shiver
Nobody would be alone"

Shacking the boy sat down

The silence that followed was absolute

The air was pressure free

The sky was clear

The stars were bright.
465 · Aug 2016
Birthday Wishes
The Mellon Aug 2016
Three days
And I will be the age that I will be when I graduate high school

Seventy two hours
Until I'm on my last teenage year

Four thousand three hundred twenty
minutes
Until Eighteen years have gone by

Two hundred fifty nine thousand two hundred seconds
Until we arrive on the day I was born

I remember when I was younger I would always beg for toys or games for my birthday.

Now I wish for nothing
Of the sort

This year my wishes are self fulfilling

I wish for happiness
I wish for love
I wish for life long friends
I wish for identity
Clarity
Prosperity
Integrity
Humility and grace

But I wish for all if that and none of it

I wish not to have them I wish to be them
I wish to be the love that someone needs on a dark night
I wish to be break threw clarity

I wish to make people happy

Most of all I simply wish to choose love
I once wrote
Love is love is love is love
Because love is love
I am loved
Because I am loved
And love is love
I love too

That's what I want
I want to love

If the whole world shared that believe,
And I love too,

That means that I love you
And because you are loved by me,
And I love because
Love is love
Then you love too

Before to long the whole world would love

That. That is what I want for my birthday.
465 · Sep 2017
The Song of the Moon
The Mellon Sep 2017
There was a night not so long ago,
I felt like dancing in the moonlight,
My arms around your waste,
You're head resting on my chest.

We would bend and sway like a young
Tree slowly starting to grow.
We would murmur of silly things
Like tea and sunflowers.

After our dance I would have liked to lay in the grass.
You know the spot.
Where we laid together last time.
Where we watched the wind.

I want to lay there again with you.
I want your head to be rested on my chest.
I want to idly play with your hair
While we watch the moon.

Someday we will do these things.

Yesterday I went out and looked at the moon. It was beautiful and full.
Today I returned to look at it and little had changed.
So tomorrow I'm going to sweep you off your feet,
And we will dance in the moonlight until the wind blows us to the ground.
445 · Nov 2018
Twenty-One Years and A Day
The Mellon Nov 2018
Twenty-One years and a day ago,
On a lonely November night,

There was a woman,
One who is to be respected and loved.
Who was nine months pregnant
No longer.

In her arms arrived a crying pale child,
The mother whispered her name
And the wind caught it.

Little did she know that whisper traveled to me, 17 years later,
And delivered to me the name,
Of the woman I fell in love with.
Happy birthday my love, or at least it was yesterday :) <3
441 · Feb 2017
The Love of my Friends
The Mellon Feb 2017
A while back a friend asked me a good question:
What is the best compliment you've ever received?

Now while we can't answer philosophy without poetry my answer really wasn't that hard.

You see I was asked this question by an amazing lady in a letter,

I was all to happy to see the letter end with

Love, Gabby.

So my reply was simple.

The best compliment I can receive is that of love.

Whenever a friend tells me they love me, whether that's my brother by birth
Or my brothers and sisters by bond,
It's the best compliment anyone can give me.

Without my friends love I would not be alive today.

I've written a thousand stanzas protesting suicide and a thousand more against self harm,

I've written love poems to death and refuted them with disgust,

I've penned down quatrains with the blood of self hate and the tears of depression,

But I wrote them down because I was alive to do so.

Without the compliment of my friends love

The only writing done would be that of crooked tally marks on the inside of my coffin.
Not everyone is lucky enough to have the friends I have. I'm blessed to be so lucky. Sorry this wasn't much of a poem. Feel free to answer the question for yourself, share if you feel up to it.
439 · Aug 2016
Fluffy my dear Kitty
The Mellon Aug 2016
Pitter
Patter

Pitter
Patter

Shallow
Quick
Jerking breaths

Glance around
Rapid breaths

Eyes left
Eyes right

Eyes left
Eyes right

Memories
Memories of earlier

Memories of my humans playing with yarn
Memories of my humans brushing me

Memories of my feet running gleefully

I remember I remember
Running in the road

I remember I remember
Never again I was told

I disobeyed I remember

I lay here now
I don't remember

Yowling running crawling now

My humans around
Tears in there eyes

I can't look at them

Isolation

They can't see me like this

Or they will remember
My cat just got hit in the road. Back hips are broken. Prayers for perseverance
426 · Jun 2016
A little bitty boy
The Mellon Jun 2016
I'm going to tell you a story

One about a little bitty boy
And a little bitty girl

They both lived in a small town
And went to a little school

But the little bitty boy was not loved
He was in the first grade for the second time
He was a stranger to everyone

He was a victim of little bitty bullies
With there little bitty words

When he was seven he balanced on the edge of a blade
He **** near plunged it into his little bitty chest
And ended his little bitty life

The boy might have done so if it wasn't for the girl
She didn't know him but smiled his way
It's amazing what a smile means to someone whose muscles had forgotten how

In the sixth grade the little bitty girl sat by the little bitty boy
They talked for a while
A spark was lit for little bitty friends

The boy and girl became best friends quick
They hung out and did what middle schoolers do
They built forts and made paper weddings for unsuspecting friends

There came a time when neither child was little bitty anymore
By the time they realized that boys liked girls
That girls liked boys
They didn't know what to do

The boy asked the girl to hold his hand once
And the girl left him
She dropped him and ran

It was a long time

The boy grew dark
He found self hate and anger
He lost the friend who saved his life

Half a year later he talked with the girl again
They both made their feelings clear
Friends forever, nothing else

Something wasn't right

By the time they were seniors
There was friction to be seen
She, the pacifist and "mature"
He, the liberal and "immature"

They had opinions on many things
Few of them the same
Yet they were part of a large group of brothers and sisters
They could not part

So there they stand today
Both friends and enemies
The girl that stole the boys heart
The boy that only got pieces back

The boy was reminded by the girl
After saying something ridiculous
Just how much the girl hated him
He still feels the bitter iron in her words

The little bitty boys' light did dim
The little bitty girl went on cold as ever
Together they were sperate
Separate they were at peace
Forever to be known,
That was all
421 · Sep 2016
I woud love to love you
The Mellon Sep 2016
I have a crush
That is the fact of it

If she were you,
By you I mean reading this
I would blush

I don't really want you knowing how I feel.
Sorry not sorry.

How would you react?
Probably poorly.

I fear you would isolate
You wouldn't have to run
You live to far away.

But then because I am foolish I would try to win your heart.
I might as well try if you're hear

I would tell you that I love you like the moon loves the waters.
Even though both are pulled by the more practical sun,
They yearn for each other in matrimony

That's not good enough.

I would love you like a butterfly loves a flower
It does not concern itself with the circumstances around the flower.
It just lands because it knows it's where it belongs

That was bad

I love you in the way that I love you
This meaning I would love you till
Death do us part
I would help you threw
Good and bad
Happy and sad
I would love you like no person can

But you wouldn't fall for me.
I'm far to much of who I am.
420 · Sep 2016
Tea Time
The Mellon Sep 2016
Long day
No sun no joy
Come home put the
Kettle
On.
It screams
You jump.
Shooo away flame
Dive at the cupboard.
Dig threw it all
Find one:
English teatime
Lemon ginger
Mint melody
Or,
Of course.
It's a day for
Sea grass.
Fill the mug
Dip the bag.
Let it seep
Be glad.
Written Jan 30, 2015. Old poem from poetfreak
420 · Nov 2018
Believe
The Mellon Nov 2018
I am many things.

Most of them I am not proud of...

I am my own lurking monster in the dark,
My own nightmare in the flesh.

I am my own worst enemy,
Even when I'm at my best.

As far as ways I'm good.
Well...
There was just you...

And now that you don't believe in me,

I have nothing
I'm am no good...
Worthless
I'm empty
412 · Sep 2017
Dreams
The Mellon Sep 2017
I remember seeing you in my dreams.

You were walking towards me in a field,
The bottom of your sun dress brushing over queen Anns Lace and yellow wild flowers.  

When you made to me you wrapped me in your arms.

I planted a kiss on your forehead.

I miss my dream.
And I miss you.

Sometimes when the sunset is stunning,
It reminds me of how much I want to watch it with you.

I miss you.

In the dead of winter.
When there's several feet of snow outside.

I sit in the kitchen,
Freshly made tea in front of me,
It's steam billowing upwards with the conviction that it matters.

The only thing missing is another cup of tea next to me and someone to sip on it with.

I miss you.
A lot.
403 · Jun 2017
A Simple Hug.
The Mellon Jun 2017
I fear the arms of love and comfort.

I do not fear them as if they mean harm,
As truly no such harm can be meant from
Love and Comfort.

I fear them because if they wrap around me,
They will discover how broken I am.

They will uncover how small I have become and how broken I am.

I fear them because they will shed light on
Me-
And my pitiful existence.

If the arms of my love were around me,
I would implode in on myself
Like a poorly made bomb.

Nothing would be safe as my scream of
Wishful comfort
Projects out of the kicked puppy of my soul.

The irony is that the only thing that will ever repair my dejected self,
Is the arms of love and comfort.
402 · Sep 2016
I love you
The Mellon Sep 2016
I love you

A little boy sits in his third grade classroom
He wonders why he hasn't any friends
He asks his mom
"Why!"
Why do they look at me like I am different
Why am I so alone

I love you

A few years later on the soccer field
A boy from the other team nocks him over
Instead of anyone helping him up
They all laugh
Even his own team.
He asks his coach the next day
Why no one helped him
Instead his coach walked away

I love you

Finnaly he graduates high school
Everyone around him is hugging and celebrating
Except the three foot radius between him and the nearest person at any time

Before he could leave though a girl walked up and hugged him
When she let go three years had gone by and she was in a beautiful white dress and the boy now a man smiled

I love you

The boy loved his wife
Every morning he called her beautiful
Every night he kissed her forhead before sleep
Even the day he got the call that his mother had unexpectedly passed away

I love you

The boy missed his mother
He he looked for her in the clouds
In the Bible
In the bottom of every bottle

I love you

Along came a day when his wife told him to stop looking and read
Three hours later she was packed and the divorce papers were signed

I love you

He cried that night
He missed his mother
He missed his wife
He looked to the sky and cried
"Father!"
Why am I alone
Please don't let this happen to me

I love you

That's all he heard
When he woke up he realized he was not alone
He had God to lead his life

You see when the boy asked his mother
"Why!"

Something special happened
That night he dreamed a life without
God

He soon learned God was always saying to him

I love you

He realized real friends aren't had
They are made threw life long experience

God placed the boy at a crossroads between

Love
And
Anything less

The boy now knew he simple had to chose love

He knew he could because
He was loved

I love you
It's worth mentioning that thisbis not based on true events, though there is probably someone who has lived this life. As far as the poem goes, I just kinda wrote it. Not sure where it came from. Maybe it will mean something more to one of you than it does me right now. Mayne I'll need it in a few years. Thanks for reading.
393 · Jun 2017
Black Clouds
The Mellon Jun 2017
I kneel here surrounded by grass

It is wet from recent rainfall.
The droplets soak into the knee of my jeans
And I continue to kneel anyway.

I gaze at the horizon-
I see the black clouds coming-
As if they are tormentors-
Returning to haunt my world.

I kneel in the field and watch the storm come.
I see blue tongues flicker threw the air.
I here their booming hiss as it shatters the peace.

I can see there dripping venom fall from miles away.

The storm is coming.

I feel the first drops of sin land on my shoulders and face.
I stand as if anything I do could change the inevitable.
I am blasted with the force of mockery.

The storm is here.

I am enveloped in the torrent.
It lashes against me.
As if to mock my protest a tree some hundred yards ahead shatters in a blue explosion.
A chunk of shrapnel clips my leg,
I wonder if it got wet from the drops in the knee of my jeans.



I kneel back onto the grass.
The soaking ground ignores my soaking jeans.

I stand and look into the horizon
Black clouds are all I see.
385 · Jun 2017
Hyperventilating Thoughts.
The Mellon Jun 2017
I'm in the backseat.
The world is flashing by me in the window.

Trees
Fields
Farms
The occasional pond.

All of it and none of it,
What does it matter.

Today I left the Harbor
Of my school.

My ship is heading for unknown waters.

Yet I sit here in the backseat.
She is driving.
The girl of my dreams.

She is driving, my mind is in turmoil.

We are leaving.
I won't see her for who knows how long.

I won't see any of them...
I break
383 · Nov 2016
Uproot
The Mellon Nov 2016
Ignorance breeds in the homes of those unwilling to educate themself

With my pen i will bleed ink from the sky as a purging rain upon society.

With each Stroke of my pen I display a chasm upon the meaty flesh of society.

I will stab my pen into society
As an endothermic needle
Under the yellowed skin of the addict
Except I will inject a cure

I will tear society from its roots and watch it burn around me

I will photograph the perfect screams of
Racism Prejudice and Hate for my kids to see

Then I will bestow a seed into the ground in which a new world may grow.
382 · Sep 2016
As the Storm Rolls
The Mellon Sep 2016
Rain plopping down down down.
Thunder cracking the air, with lighting the whip.
Crazy things happen when the storms all around.
be careful, don't slip.

Stress in speckles dot dot dot.
The tension in the air hums, yet it is so delicate.
Let the thunder ***** you not,
It is your friend indefinite.

Show the storm your stress,
rain will fall drop drop drop.
It will cleanse away the rest,
stress washed away from the bottom to top.
Written January 31, 2015.
The Mellon Sep 2016
Why'd you do it
Why'd you fight
Why'd you come at me tonight

I am fire
I am death
Stab you in the back
Modern Macbeth

Here I stand
Cavalry of words behind
Of course to you I'll remind

Bow before
Kiss my feet
Or die in fight
Sure deceit

Back down
Submit to me
Maybe I'll be gracious
And share my tea
See Anonymous Freak for responses
377 · May 2016
I've been meaning to say...
The Mellon May 2016
are some things I have wanted to say.
Stories I've wanted to tell

I wanted to tell you how the moon, on that special lunar occasion,
How it is red not because of the blood moon,
Rather because it is the reflection of a thousand sunsets all on one canvas.

Or I could tell you about that old lady I saw on the street the other day

How the wrinkles on her ***** hands matched that on her torn shirt.
How those wrinkles looked like waving rows of wheat to the bread she'll never eat

I could talk about the sunset!
Oh the sunset!
How the last ray of sun light is like that of the love of an old man who watched his wife of fifty years fall from cancer.
How even though his light is gone, he can still see her image refracted on the horizon, as if one last kiss to the world

I could talk about the young girl down the block,
The one who people call "fake" because she covers her face in foundation,
The same face her boyfriend left bruised and swollen.

I can talk about the girl I saw on my walk today.
The one who flinched every time her father raised his hand,
The one that wasn't holding his beer of course.

I could talk about sunsets.
I could talk about the beauty of the moon.
I could talk about a lot of things.

I could talk about poverty
I could talk about abuse or ****
I could talk about a lot of things

Society dictates that I should talk about the good things
I should talk about the sunset, and the butterflies
Oh! The butterflies!

Society is a lot like a butterfly
Its beautiful,
Free,
Alive

But society has heavy problems

Ones that "can't be talked about"

The weight of these problems will rip the wings from a butterfly.
Leaving it to fall to the Earth

Earth, where it will be forgotten
It will be stamped upon
It will be ignored

Until one day it dies
Until it's suddenly a tragedy,

What a pity-Oh look! A celebrity!
The Mellon Jul 2016
I was planted by God
He tended to me
My roots He covered in sod
All was good as He could see

He tended to me
Soon I bloomed
All was good as he could see
I was well groomed

Soon I bloomed
Hundreds of apples hung from my boughs
I was well groomed
As steady growth was my vow

Hundreds of apples hung from my boughs
Many did fall
As steady growth was my vow
Many more soon stood tall

Many did fall
My roots He covered with sod
Many more stood tall
I was planted by God
Genesis 1:11~ Then God said, "Let the earth sprout vegetation, plants yielding seed, and fruit trees on the earth bearing fruit after their kind with seed in them"; and it was so.
The Mellon Oct 2016
I dwindled away upon an asteroid today

Drifting time and space
Transcending indifference towards myself

I learnt one valuable thing on that floating rock
In order to live you need to breath

I live under a zip lock quick zip bag that had been decompressed

Today I took a switchblade to the fabric of society and let loose a bouquet of intimate breaths

I no longer inhale the smoke of society but instead breath the fresh air of rebellion

What a funny thing rebellion
This in power condemn the action

The British did with the their American colonies

Today we praise the rebellion
We won, that's how it works

My fresh air of rebellion can not loose
We are not the rebellion that is looked down upon

We will write our own history as we make it

For rebellion to society's cast system
Until death do us part
366 · Apr 2016
Dream of me too
The Mellon Apr 2016
I once told you,
That my dreams
Were never as good as they once were,
Because none of them

None of them compared to my reality,
My dream come true with you,

Yet here I am tonight
Wishing for something that's not a nightmare
Because all that time ago you left me.

So here I lay tonight,
Still hoping to dream of you
Now do me a favor,
And dream of me too

Then maybe in the morning,
We can make our dreams come true
360 · Apr 2016
Hands (pantoum)
The Mellon Apr 2016
Fresh at birth
So smooth and small
Fingers with such little girth
Even as you learn to crawl

So smooth and small
No longer
Even as you learn to crawl
Your hands become stronger

No longer
As you move through life
Your hands become stronger
Pulling you through strife

As you move through life
Your hands develope
Pulling you through strife
Innocence past corrupt

Your hands develope
Touching the life of others
Innocence past corrupt
But gentle as lovers

Touching the life of others
Finding a spouce
But gentle as lovers
Love unable to douse

Finding a spouce
New hands coming to Earth
Love unable to douse
Fresh at birth
356 · Mar 2018
When Words Fail
The Mellon Mar 2018
When words fail,
How will I tell you...

You're beautuful.

Will the moon light shinning down on your eyes
Will the fireflies in disguise
Be enough.
To tell you you're beautiful.

When words fail,
How will I tell you...

I love you.

Would a thousand red roses
Will a great symphony composes
Be enough.
To tell you I love you.

When words fail,
How will I tell you...

Forever and ever you're  mine.

Would a thousand poems spoken
Will arms forever open
Be enough.
To tell you,
Forever and ever you're mine.

When words fail,
I'll show you my heart threw my eyes instead
I'll dance with you threw the night
I'll hold you close so you might

Know that when words fail,

I'll always love you.
The Mellon Jun 2016
As I look into a mirror
I see my own two eyes
My soul I couldn't see clearer
Dark behind the lies

I see my own two eyes
Making their claim
My soul i couldn't see clearer
They judged me in despise

Making their claim
Repentance was my charge
They judged me in despise
I was a sinner at large

Repentance was my charge
To holy waters I must take
I was a sinner at large
Hurry, go, find the lake

To holy waters must take
My soul i couldn't see clearer
I was a sinner at large
As I look into a mirror
335 · Aug 2016
Numbers
The Mellon Aug 2016
One
Two
Three

It starts so simple counting

One
Two
Three

But is keeping track all to simple?

What about the times I've been hurt
What about counting the number of times that I've been abandoned

What about the number of sleepless nights that I've stayed
Awake
Upon my bed tormenting myself and raging against
God

One
Two
Three

If I were to count to seven I would have been depressed for three years
Once I reach seven you would arrive at the age I made a choice

I held a blade to my throat and decided between

Counting
And
Not counting any more

One
Two
Three

Then I saw eight and nine and before i made it to ten my life changed

I felt a love that was unknown to me

That love is what I still count by today

One
Two
Three

I know a girl who counts differently than I do
Instead of love she counts by hate

Every night she looks at herself and carves tally marks while counting

One
Two
Three

That same girl now counts threw love

She can look at her arm and smile as she counts each victory running parallel across her skin

One
Two
Three

I tell you every number counts

I have in my life now counted 6565 days
Tomorrow will be 6566 days
The day after will be 6567days

One
Two
Three

Is how I began
I nearly died at seven
I was saved at eleven

One
Two
Three

I speak as I count and I speak love
Because love is love is love is love
And because love is love
I am loved
And because love is love
And I am loved
I love too
329 · Apr 2016
3,732
The Mellon Apr 2016
How far can a heart stretch?

Before it ruptures and zig zag splits down the middle.

Can a heart stretch eighty nine miles?

That's already a stretch. The heart aches,

It pounds in your chest

The stretch leaves it thin,
Easy to break

But that's not far enough

My heart is over an ocean

Is Three Thousand Seven Hundred Thirty Two miles to far?

The heart would be a tight cord
A slack line over shark infested waters

A storm would engulf it at tare it apart at sea

A small wiggle would throw the whole line in waves

So I beg the question.
Is There Thousand Seven Hundred Seventy Two miles to far for a heart to stretch?

Because I don't know
I may never know

It seems that Zero miles apart may not happen.
328 · Apr 2016
If in a dream
The Mellon Apr 2016
If in once I dream I saw
My life before me,
I think I would turn and flee

I can imagine what I'd see,
Roaring hatred and laughter
All about me.

I could see my heart
As it flies in the air,
Each piece its own separate entity

A family torn the middle
As I cannot be understood,
Why must I be hated,
When I try to love a little.

If the past does repeat,
Then I am truly *******
As every girl before,
Left my heart for rot.

I can see myself
Putting others before me,
Stretching the chasm a bridge,
Only to be walked on
And never picked up.

Yet I'll do it time and again
The more I save the better
As even if they won't remember me,
They might never look back.

I see my future as bleak,
But better bleak than sorry
As every friend that crosses,
Lives a little more than me.
317 · Jan 2019
Tea
The Mellon Jan 2019
Tea
I made tea today.

I dunked in my
Totally-not-bigger-than-it-should-be-table-spoon of honey.
I poured the milk into the mix
(I know, I know, how could I)

Then i jumped into the cup for an adventure.

Upon entering the steaming silky waters
A school of fish blasted past me

A school....
A class of three thousand people

All looking at me  
The whole world is watching me.

If I fail-
Oh **** what if I fail.

Lost in terror

I smell.

Hmm?

Vanilla spice?

Oh yeah. The tea.
I made tea for the stress.
I have tea.






My tea is cold.




****
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