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Hannah Beth Feb 2016
she was green eyes
and smooth thighs
his palms were rough
and his hair stood up

at the back, when i left
and went to my bed
from his
or hers
to mine

his and hers
hers and his
i'm not buying matching towels)

fluidity and focus
come side by side
in a darkened room and a heightened time

i like her kisses
and her hands
i like the truth in his eyes when he's sad

i'll be with her
or him or them

and i'll be with one or none or ten
when i say them, i mean the singular they
i do not mean threesomes
i am not that spicy
an ode to bisexuality and playin the field in general
i was feeling a little wild what can i say
Hannah Beth Feb 2016
i find myself wishing i could write
like i used to
write hard hitting poems that leave aches in your bones

i can't
i'm happy. i'm somewhere else, and i'm happy.
i look at old writings and i do not see me
i see a girl who was struggling to live and to breathe

six months ago, i'd take it all back
i'd gather up my poems and i'd stuff them in the trash
six months ago, i'd want to forget
but now all i see is development

i do not recognize that version of myself
but now,
i know it is for the best
i know that without our past selves,
we'd be nowhere near our present

and i quite like her
i like her strength the best
i like that even when it's not needed
i know it's served her well
guyz i made it i'm happy
Hannah Beth Oct 2015
I thought I knew what missing someone was
an ache
in the deepest pit of your stomach
that hits you like a truck - trucks hit you all at once
I was mistaken.

I thought I knew what missing someone was
And so
I sat listening to these songs and
That jumper I picked out today - it didn't fit perfect but it
brought me comfort.

I thought I knew what missing someone was
It's crept
All up and upon me so slowly, so
stealthy and disguised, our everyday things - they each piled inside of me
one by one.

I thought I knew what missing someone was
And until
I met you, it wasn't all bad
But I am wrapped in us - our clothes. our pictures and songs.
I miss you.

I miss you
I see now
That before you
I'd never missed
any one person
Not a little -
Not a once -
Not an ever -
Not at all.

I can only hope you don't miss me
Because the thought of you feeling this
Is so much worse
Than to not be thought of at all
I'm happy in this new place but sometimes I remember certain people and everything goes a little grey
Hannah Beth Sep 2015
it's an odd feeling
To pass someone by
and to know that their favourite colour is green
and that they like only one sugar in  their tea
and to remember slurred words that fell from their mouth
and to remember
that you know your way
around the dustiest corners of their house
to know that they hate being tickled
on the curves of their hips
or to know that you've placed countless kisses
upon their hopelessly chapped lips
but mostly it's just sad
to pass someone by
and to look at them knowing
that never again
will they stop to say hi
a poem I wrote a year and a half ago, found in a notebook, never put it up
Hannah Beth Jul 2015
I'd almost forgotten the smell of your perfume
Though it makes sense
That even the most faded of memories
Must have a curfew
Hannah Beth Jul 2015
On a polished oak desk
Wrapped in a thin dust-jacket
Lies an unused pen,
A blank sheet of paper,
And an empty pack of cigarettes.

I used to think that if these things could breathe, they would be loneliness personified.

But that's wrong.
If they lived, they wouldn't be lonely at all.
Hannah Beth Jun 2015
Golden words make
For a golden painted life

A little tarnished,

But surely in reach,
And surely in sight.
Positivity is the key to success yo
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