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 Aug 2014 eccentricities
Kenzie
I pretended that he watched her
delicately
Like as if to observe
The golden tips
From butterfly wings

I pretended that he touched her
palms
So he could signal
Her nerve endings to stop shaking

I pretended that he kissed her
Temples
As if they were a place to worship
That his body was all he had
To offer

I pretended that he brought her
coffee
So that she couldn't feel
The steel pillars in her soul

I pretended that he loved her
entirely
But instead
He just sipped his tea
And folded
Arms across the table
how it feels to be more than a hundred days with you
how it feels to be in a thousand hours beside you
how it feels to be in a thousand moments of talking to you
and an infinite seconds of loving you

your scent which i smell every time i wake up
the warm hug that forever keeps me comfortable
how it feels to be the one loved by you
and the tangled moments i had shared with you

remembering the days when we were walking
at the place which we really loved to go
where the afternoon grace surrounds us
with the trees and flowers around us

how you used to kiss my forehead, and tell me how's your day?
and * i'm fine, okay* are the one that i can say
how you used to pick yellow flowers for me
and putting it behind my ears whispering i am so lucky

how we used to point on mansions or even houses that looked like castles
and say hey babe i want that someday
how we used to watch an old woman paint in her porch
the feeling of looking forward to something with you

how we used to dance in the rain and even kiss
letting me borrow your blue sweatshirt makes me feel safe
under the yellow bells of trees in the street
you told me everything's going to be alright, baby

how we used to sing our favorite song
saying lucky to be coming home someday
i know because the feeling of looking within your eyes
i feel home

how we used to held our hands without speaking
how we used to tell each other's dream
young love as they say
but i know this is real

how we used to lay down after a busy day
feeling each other's warm body
the feeling beside you after a long day makes me powerful again
because of the love that runs through our veins

how we used to have dinner, in a fine restaurant near our home
how we used to sit below the pirate displays
asking me are you happy with this?
i wanted to tell you that i am happy with everything

you and i may not have the perfect relationship which every one can think of
but i know it's real

*b.a
a poem for my best friend
a poem for my one and only
She was pretty.
Scratch that.
She was beautiful.
Scratch that too.

She was more beautiful,
Than a sunrise on a winter morning.
Or a rainfall on an autumn day
Where the leaves dance in the wind
And fill the sky with life.
More beautiful than a flower
That breaks through the cracks
Of a concrete garden
And brings color to the air.
She was more beautiful,
Than any poem that's ever been written.

She was beautiful.
Scratch that.
She still is.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
©Sebastian @http://hellopoetry.com/sebastian/
So..

Ive been thinking about you a lot lately.
At this point in time, i should probably be studying *Mathematics

But instead, I'm looking to add us two together
Because it wouldn't be nearly as complicated as long division
To subtract all the zeroes in my life
Until its just you and I as a final product.
The only thing I really got out of calculus
Was that a great relationship could be our derivative.
I think the function for Y
This is happening is because
You have made
an X-ceptional difference
In my life;
Your beauty's limits are just imaginary numbers.

But -
I think I should review my English notes,
Because, I swear- We're just like Romeo and Juliet!
... minus the whole killing ourselves thing,
There aren't enough words in any dictionary
To completely envelop the feelings I have that make me so wary,
Now that you've torn down my walls, I hate being vulnerable,
You've gotten so close, so fast -
i can almost feel you hugging my soul.

Pero, uhh, donde esta mi libro de Espanol?
Porque
hay una mujer que domina mis sentidos con solo tocar mi piel,
y solo por un beso con ella soy feliz.

But in all seriousness.
The Chemistry we have is undeniable.
You take away all the oxygen in the room
When you get my blood boiling
And stomach toiling
when our eyes lock;
A limitless amount of reactions are unfolding
With you being my catalyst for my heart beating
Every time our hands are meeting.

Its now 5th period, Psychology,
When we kiss, its visualized neurology
Because my lips still tingle when you allow me
To go clinically crazy,
I'm only left to plead insanity
After our physiological fallacy.

Or maybe i should crack open my History textbook,
Because all I ever hear about
Is how Benjamin Franklin was a ****,
And that crazy chick from 300 stabbed her love affair,
Or, quite simply,
How nothing good ever lasts.
Well, I don't know why I'm even in school anymore,
Because I feel like you and I reversed millenniums
Of misguided relationships,
Because with finger locked,
We ran through Berlin Walls that said
High school romance was stupid,
And practically caused World War 3
When so many jealous lovers realized
That the only weapon of mass destruction
Is the undeniable army of two that we have become.
I'd say
We're a bit closer
To that old couple from The Notebook!
..wait..
they die too.

So the last bell has rung,
You made me late to every class,
But if my homework was just to love you,
**There'd be no doubt that I'd pass.
the little things i never see
were the best things about you
i don't know, i never knew
that these things are glitters inside your jar

it's me staring at you
perhaps you never notice me
but at the deepest ocean of your eye
i saw the most wonderful thing

i never knew, i never knew
that you are this certain
i didn't get it to the point, i am just above the ocean
perhaps i should have swam deeper

i was clingy, i was impatient
that i never noticed the little things
behind your strings, behind your round eyes
behind your heart

it is just you, the special you
beside me, behind me
it is the most wonderful thing
that i never saw, that i never knew, that i never felt

but now i know, now i know
that the shadow behind you
was the stigma of your love


*b.a
it's my first poem here uhm i am really a considerate person so i would be glad to see your reactions :)
I'm a cloud of useless waste of particles.
I float freely, I fall slowly.
I'm a useless dust of chalk. Wasted.
What is my purpose?
After my knowledge?
After I have made my marks on the board?
What am I bound to do?
After I sit steady in the cold, dark place that I stain? That I ruin?

I'm a useless powdered material.
I stay stationary, I move slightly.
I'm a useless left over matter of chalk. Unimportant.
No appreciation for my knowledge.
No notice for my wisdom.
Is my purpose to be unseen?
Is my purpose to irritate eyes and wreck souls?

I'm a chalk dust in a dark, cold corner...
Soliloquy is my game.
What I play. every time. everyday
Intentionally left behind,
By my knowledge, my wisdom, my faith, my truth.
I'm now
A Nobody.

I vanish, and I flourish and I fly.
I'm a chalk dust with no purpose.
And so, the soul had fled the existing body.
And in the end, I see...
My useless soul, my life...
Under appreciated


** jnldm
first timer. pardon the emotional poem. this was actually for my lit. class and  my lit. teacher told me to hang here and post some of ze works. hahaha... lol bye. nvr mnd this note. it's so useless lol. -jnldm
It was there.
And then it was gone.
Frantically scrolling up and down I somehow knew the search was useless. The frustration streaming through my blood kept my mind off of everything else in the world. I was mad. Angry. Questioning why this would happen. Hard work pays off? Or hard work gets "accidentally" deleted by the stupid device that I have ignorantly become so dependent on. It has become our way of communication; our way of becoming something else. We try to make technology a mold of ourselves. Piling in personal information until we are left holding our entire life in our palm. We stick our faces behind 4x2 rectangles of wires and data, instead of looking each other in the eye.

But you see, the problem is, you can't bleed into a device. It won't absorb. Your feelings, your life will merely sit on top of it until your phone eventually shuts down.

But you can bleed into paper. You can write and write and only be concerned about how badly your hand is cramping. You can hold it, you can feel it. And you can hope others feel it too. You can carry it around and never worry about it becoming "outdated."

There are no upgrades.

There is only inspiration.


~pw
This a girl.

A broken, battered girl.
Held together by threads and glue, with wounds gauged into her heart.

This girl wakes up and sees a monster in the mirror,
with a grotesque face and heart as black as tar. Her eyes magnify every imperfection,
making them stand out like a single red rose among a dozen white ones. Still she puts on the smile that she is expected to wear. Fake it until you make it right? Stabbed in the back by her best friend.
The one person she thought would never give her up. The one she trusted and loved more than anyone. That’s what started it all.
A streak of deep set self-hatred. A girl who wishes that her weight was as low as her self-esteem. So down your drink broken girl, drown your sorrows with ***** and jack.
This is a girl.
With the word “Useless” carved into her arm.
Because that’s how she feels.
Useless. Ugly. Fat.
Because that was what she was told that was what she was. With every text that was sent to her she lost a little bit of her heart until all that was left was the space where it was supposed to beat.
Thump. Thump.
So she built walls around herself. Unbreakable walls filled with every word they ever called her.
She built them high and thick and made them of steel so no one could climb into her mind and see.
See what pain she was in.
See how she lived life behind a mask of fake laughs and smiles.  
So slice a little deeper broken girl, bleed the pain away because all those scars tell a story.

This is a girl.
Whose only escape is music.
The words engulf her.
Make her feel perfect even if just for about three minutes. Hitting her hard with a tsunami of emotions. Each word she clings to with all her strength so that maybe, one day they will be her reality.  A girl who loses herself in the crowd. The only time anything feels alright, when she doesn't have to hide or wish she was someone else. She sits alone and just listens. Listens to the ups and downs and analyzes the lyrics as they wrap around her and keep her warm. The only thing that can make it over her walls. So turn it up broken girl, and leave the pain behind.
This is a girl.
A girl who walks alone.
Because who would want to walk with a monster?
A girl who hates everything.
Especially herself.
Because that was what she was taught to do. Tongues as sharp as the razor she uses, eat at her brain. Like a flesh eating disease. Telling her how imperfect she is. And she listens. She soaks up the words and feels all of their fury. And what’s left becomes the salt in her tears. So walk on, broken girl, and don't you dare look back.
This a girl.
A girl who cries herself to sleep almost every night.
With a pillow covered in black stains from her eye make-up, as dark as the thoughts that drift through her head. Who is told not to end it because “It gets better.” That’s what they say anyway. The same people who, just a year earlier, caused her pain, who still cause her pain.
Their words haunt her.
They invade her dreams and turn them into nightmares that cut like a blade into her soul and into her heart. So take another pill and fall asleep, broken girl.
Leave this world behind, broken girl
Never wake up, Broken girl.
Because when you wake up your nightmares become
reality.
Do you ever find yourself
slowly slipping out of the grasp of reality,
and into the embrace of insanity?
Silently hoping for a miracle,
or maybe just a change in humanity?

The world is numb to our silent tears,
they say that we're weak because we have fears.
But I know that's not true,
and I know they are wrong,
for they are the weak and we are the strong.

We stay up every night staring into the void,
our minds erased, and our hearts destroyed.
For what you may ask?
And we will reply;
This is my mask, behind which I cry.
The pain we endure you may never know.
The pain we endure we may never show.
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