I wrote I love you in the sand at the beach
Tide swallowed the words and drowned them
But the waves were not the reason for impeding speech
My awkward asocial character is the one to condemn
  Now the words are gone like the tearstains on my sheets that I have just  bleached.

Why is hellopoetry.com black and white? I've always wondered about this... why my colorful photographs are required to travel back in time. How does this effect the poetry in any way, shape, or form? But I understand the wisdom of this design now. And it sets a great metaphor for all of the people of the pen involved in this truly noble motion, this secret society for people with passion, talent, and troubled minds and souls. Hello Poetry is black and white not because it has to be monochromatic and modern, but because us poets fill these pages with enough inovativeness and color already with our words, ideas, thoughts, songs, senryus, ballads, heartbreaks, insecurities, that adding literal color to this website would be overwhelming. These soft undertones of gray, black, and white may be considered drab and depressing to some, but to us poets it represents timelessness. And this is probably why we are all here. Hourly, daily, weekly, monthly, or even yearly publishing poems. Because we all know we are not going to live forever, and we are so entirely insignificant in the broad scheme of things and of the universe itself, that it is a bit comforting and helpful to have this coping mechanism or soft blankie to calm our fears, that this literature we write, however insignificant it may be, is absolutley permanent. And that maybe someday it will be remembered so a small bit of us may live on. Tom Riddle knew the needs and wants of man kind before anybody else realized it. Maybe he was just trying to cope with the fact that he is insignificant. These poems are all our Horcruxes so *viveamus per camenam nostram.

I can't believe how misty my eyes get when I think of all we've been through, all the laughs, tears, and hope we've shared. You were the reason I was late for first, second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth period. Because I waited around, pretended to go to my locker, pretended to go to the restroom, caught a random friend to talk to just so I could pass you by one more time, meet your beautiful eyes with mine, nudge your shoulder with mine as I passed, and share a smile, if only for a second, with you. I didn't even mind the stares as I walked leisurely to my seat, not even caring that I was 5 minutes late and was grinning like an idiot. Because every moment I shared with you was precious, and worth more to me than a perfect attendance role.

I think the saddest people always try their hardest to make others happy. Because they know what it's like to feel absolutely worthless, and they don't want anybody else to feel like that.

Ran outside, no shoes
Hot tears, cold wind, breathe it in
Realizations

It amazes me every time
How truthful everyone is
Up to a certain point
It amazes me every time
How one lie
Can tarnish and stain
A million truths
It amazes me every time
How people think that
It's so easy for me to trust again
It amazes me every time
How people just expect
An infinite amount of chances from me
But I lied.
It doesn't even surprise me anymore
That people treat each other like ****. They ask for me to forgive and forget. I forgive every time, but I'll never forget. Because how could you forget how exceedingly ugly the face of humanity really is, when the ugliness multiplies every day right before your eyes. He's sorry he's hurt me, but I'm too numb and used to this pain to care at this point. He's sorry he's left me, but doesn't stop leaving. He tells me I deserve someone like him, honey, no I don't deserve someone like you. I deserve someone who doesn't hurt me to begin with. I know that can't happen, though, no one could possibly love someone and respect them that much. I guess I'll just stick with watching you kiss her and hold her hand and let everyone know that she is yours, when you told me you loved me but no one will ever know that. Not even your mom. Not even your friends. Hell I still don't even know you do. Because people who love each other don't do that. I guess I'll just stick with telling you that I am happy for you. I just wish you could see that even though I'm smiling and pretending not to care, you broke me, in every possible way, and every time I see you I cry. But only for a second, my silly charade falters, but the next second, I'm "myself" again. Because I've had so much practice at acting the happy go lucky fool, sometimes I even convince myself. Until I see you. Until I see her. Her and you together. See you don't even love her, that's what kills me. You went for the trophy to show off instead of the knowledge that someone loves you and would do anything for you. No. I wasn't good enough for you. I'm happy for you though. So happy. I don't feel sad anymore. I just feel numb, empty, alone.. How else are you supposed to feel when all you've ever cared about and stayed alive for is ripped away? You don't even know how much I cry at night because I know I've failed you in some way. I'm not beautiful at all, unlike her. I'm not confident like her. I'm not funny like her. I don't need to constantly talk to you in person, because I loved that special connection I thought we had, where we didn't even need to say anything because we already knew.
Unlike her.
I'm so happy for you though.
So happy.