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14.5k · Oct 2014
weekend longing
Hannah Beth Oct 2014
I want smoke in
my lungs and gin
in my veins and
lips on my
lips and chills down
my spine to feel
nothing but
pleasure blurred
dreams sweet and
brief I don't want
a thing but craving
and need
short n quick burst of frustration at boring weekdays
12.7k · Aug 2014
Shy
Hannah Beth Aug 2014
Shy

Her hand brushes
against my own
my mind screams
louder than even
the most horrific
of bombs to
hold it back
to close those
last few *******
feet between her
lips and mine
but all I
feel all that
shakes my entire
body and soul
is this crippling
shyness it refuses
to go it
digs its toxic
roots down to
the depths of
my stomach and
refuses to let
go and I
can't and I
won't and I
don't hold her
hand and I
wonder forever if
she could have
loved me back

an ode to all those awkward shites out there
12.6k · Aug 2014
Monsoon
Hannah Beth Aug 2014
She is the first springtime shower
a fresh promise of something new
The foundation to newfound life around her
a persona of all that is true

Soon, she is a summer downpour
A welcome respite from scorching heat
Every drop i crave, every storm near surrounds me
Her water is soon air, an overwhelming necessity

Later, an autumn storm.
Accompanied by a bite
A wind so harsh and bitter
Makes me forget her first spring life

And lastly, a soft snowfall.
Her floods have turned to ice
Frozen and forgotten
The damage heals with time

Storms must come full circle
none truly have an end
But to have known this girl,
What a privilege.
She was a living monsoon,
a friend.
Make what you want of this, but in my opinion, it is a story about relationships, and the different stages of them that are experienced. It was also inspired by Looking For Alaska, one of my favourite books, and my take on Pudge's relationship with Alaska. So yeah, that's basically it, I'll be quiet now haha
6.8k · Jul 2014
Escapism
Hannah Beth Jul 2014
Another drink,
Another smoke.

One more story,
One more book.

A long day out,
A night awake.

Two more songs,
Four more games.

Daydreaming again,
Creating stories in her head.

Dreading the moment,
she's alone once again.

“I’m fighting my demons,”
She says.
“I’m pushing them away.”

He shakes his head.
“My dear, it seems to me,
That you are running away.”
V personal + experimental
although i suppose everything i write at this point is quite experimental
anyway, I dunno. Just a poem about running from your problems. Hope that at least some can relate.
4.8k · Aug 2014
hangover
Hannah Beth Aug 2014
High in the sky
And we’re coming down
we drink again
in our glasses we drown

it’s curious, isn’t it?
The escapes that we have found

This bliss is
temporary
But at the very least
It will dull
the sound
4.7k · Oct 2014
Candles and Constellations
Hannah Beth Oct 2014
This candlelight has been witness to both hatred and love
To shouts of anger born from throats reddened raw
Smashed mugs and smashed china and half-mended smashed hearts
But to passion, forgiveness, old flames both rekindled and small.

Candlelight lit from matches or flint
Such lovely low light supplied to romantic nothings
(“Does it really matter which?” you’d asked me then, eyes to the sky.
And I’d nodded, because it did.)

And I remember the first time I saw you by candlelight.
Shattered bulbs had left us with nothing but flames under stars
And I’m glad I first found you by such unforgettable light
Not lackluster memory that passed me by
Because now, alone beneath imaginary hatches
You light up the room by candle wax and boxed matches.
This really came out of nowhere, hope someone enjoys
3.3k · Aug 2014
Queer
Hannah Beth Aug 2014
Homophobia is not funny.

Care to hear what is?

The wrenching fear boring holes in your best friend’s once bright eyes
every Thursday afternoon, when she must enter a changing room filled with hostile glares

The violent purple bruise re-emerging beneath your brother’s left eye
the same bruise he told your mother about three weeks ago
that he’d “gotten in a rugby accident”

The gnawing feeling of loneliness in your classmate’s stomach as she lies in an otherwise empty bed
no longer able to hold her girlfriend’s hand in public
following a run-in with her mother at the supermarket

The boy next door who can’t bring himself to leave his bed
Immobilized with anxiety and wrapped up in the sheets
(it’s been six days, nine hours, and forty-two minutes since he told his best friend.)

The young woman who serves you your coffee on Saturdays
living on less than minimum wage for three years now
Since her mother left her to the streets

The kind boy you used to date, he’s been single for years
Caught and confused between miserable safety
and endless happiness

- - -


I lied before.
Not an ounce of wit lies within these words.
This is simply
an open letter to homophobes:

Find some ******* ******* originality for your jokes.
The poem says it all, really.
2.5k · Aug 2014
Through someone else's eyes.
Hannah Beth Aug 2014
Not often did he wish for things,
He had few petty desires.
“What’ll come will come,” he’d say, with a knowing nod.
And he was happy that way. He’d smile.

Most called him an accomplished man
He left the past behind.
His monsters were gone
Defeated at last
Not many were considered truly content these days,
But this man, they said, he’d made it.

He’d sit by the fire with a cup of tea.
He’d read stories to his children, he’d sing them to sleep.
But his heart longed for little more, just one final request
Not for himself, but for the woman that lay near.

The most magnificent woman he’d had the pleasure to know
She lit up each room with a heavenly glow.
This woman, he’d said, oh, she’s one of a kind,
Not one word was questioned when he explained why.

She was the kind to leave food on the sill for the cat
That had never belonged to her
Because she couldn’t bare the look in its eyes
When the neighbour three doors down no longer could.

She was the type who could never in her life tell a joke
Because she was out of breath with laughter
Long before the punchline arrived.

She was impossible to hold a grudge to,
A blessing to the world.
Though insecurity engulfed her
Self-esteem was unheard of
Seeing herself through devils’ eyes,
Heartbroken at her own reflection.

If the man wanted one last thing,
It would be a day in his life, for her
Plain and simple.

She’d see the way she curled her hair
Behind one ear when she laughed.
A golden noise, full of light,
He wished she knew
That it put everything right.

His dying wish was, to the love of his life;
*“Please, let her see herself, through someone else’s eyes.”
i think we can all relate to the complete and utter frustration of seeing someone so beautiful think of themselves as the complete opposite, and not be able to show them otherwise. it frickin suuuuuuuuuuucks
2.5k · Sep 2014
A call for Adrenaline
Hannah Beth Sep 2014
I want to live
Forever,
Where instinct is born
That sacred state

found in throngs of dancers
Pressed tight like bubbles
of compressed air inside scrap metal
on this aerosol dancefloor

or the microsecond in which
I am falling deep
in this freezing autumn sea
Midnight adventures  
With a friend so dear
Fits of giggles, clad in nothing
From head to feet

And a rushed kiss
behind closed doors
All ruffled hair,
Plum stained necks,
Bodies pressed together
like two cards from a deck

I long for these places
And feelings so strong
I have fallen for all those places
Where thoughts don't belong
my favourite moments in life are often the ones where it's all feeling and no planning or thinking or anything, god idek I'm just rambling now
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
1.8k · Jul 2015
Again
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
Nnnnggghhhblehggghh
1.6k · Sep 2014
Untitled
Hannah Beth Sep 2014
If only life were as romantic
Come day
As it seems to be at half past three
Seen through a clouded haze
Of early morning mist
Faded street light
And a plume of cigarette smoke
1.4k · Nov 2014
32 minutes of misfit ecstasy
Hannah Beth Nov 2014
You don't quite fit and
Things are far from right
We are key and lock mismatched
crushed together in fits of frustration and spite

But it's new
(Trust me) (I have seen next to nothing like you before)
And I've always longed to explore

Stay for a while
And I promise, (I promise), to make the most
of this delinquent delight we've found

Before we've been presented
With our separate open doors

Before we're forced from our little headspace in the clouds
Something newwwWWwWw
1.3k · May 2015
Future (10w)
Hannah Beth May 2015
Something good, something new
It always lies ahead for you
I try to think this way as often as I can
Really helps :)
1.3k · Aug 2014
Real Support (10w)
1.3k · Dec 2014
Unrequited
Hannah Beth Dec 2014
She is light on water
And that bite in the air
That wakes you

It wakes you and you're alive and you can't help but breathe

And then she grins and
She hugs you
Her hands at your neck
And the breathing has stopped

And you know then
Things can't go back

To before
It was so ******* simple

A hug was just a hug and a kiss was nothing more

Now there's fire in your veins when she walks through the door
1.2k · Apr 2015
A different kind of flight
Hannah Beth Apr 2015
There are planes up there
They are soaring against electric blue

They are made of such wonder

Yet all I can think is how lovely life is
Down here on the ground, with you.
I swore i wouldn't post a mushy lurv poem yet here I am
1.2k · Jan 2015
Spark
Hannah Beth Jan 2015
Nights like this
Nights like shining starbursts in black abyss

When sweaty palms arise not from fear
But butterflies ten thousandfold

And the taste of her lips
on yours
on a lamplit January road
Still lingers come daybreak

Those are the nights I stick around for
last night made me happy
1.2k · Nov 2014
living life on fast forward
Hannah Beth Nov 2014
my life has moved into overdrive

vision running in crooked circles faster than I can breathe

Sinister forces smothering, weighing down on my chest and
somehow I can't breathe
and all I want is rest

I am dunked underneath
Such vicious hot water and it burns
Time slows in those moments but I still can't seem to breathe
All I breathe is hot water ripped from the sea

And yet
I am alive and I am kicking
And I know I am stronger than most

All I can do is sit tight
And hope I'll find my pace
Some day
1.1k · Oct 2014
School days
Hannah Beth Oct 2014
There's aching backs and dampened clothes
And sleepless nights pull at countless eyes
Words muttered through rusted locker doors
Slammed shut
Words that can't help but be heard

And hot angry voices chip at young minds like axes to ice
All racing to claim such a hollow little prize
Five days turn to haze
Then come weekend,
Drank away.

Because it's not about learning, is it? Not anymore.

It's about getting an A.
1.1k · Sep 2014
Rough Waters
Hannah Beth Sep 2014
I sit and the sea surrounds me
My hair and body and face
Jagged rocks that cut
Glassy surface like hot
Steel through butter
And sprinkled sea foam
Envelopes itself in waves
Over and over
And over once more
Like never ending blankets
Strewn on the floor
And there is a song I don’t know
It buzzes far off while
The sky turns the water
Black navy blue
It drips and dribbles
Little ink drops
That envelop the waves
The stones
And the rocks
I spent my whole day by the sea today with friends and a few cans and it was honestly so lovely so being the sap i am, i wrote a poem
1.1k · Jul 2015
Dusty, lonely things
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.
1.1k · Aug 2014
Insomnia's Perks
Hannah Beth Aug 2014
Over the course of my skirmish with sleeplessness
More has been learned than I care to admit.
Although frequently,
I am blinded by frustration.
Coupled with the vicious need to sleep
And lack of.
But I have learned.

I have learned to acknowledge
The transition of dark to day
A process
I often neglected to think of before.
It is easier, I have found,
To pick yourself up
From the depths of your mind
When you are stood side by side
With a sun rising so bright.

I have learned of change,
And its magnificence.
Not long ago it was one more thing to be shunned,
A curse.
I once feared the unknown and unexplored
Unaware of the ever-morphing cycle outside my window
Spanning each and every season of the year.

I have learned of time
And the abundance of it carelessly slept away
In the panic of eluding reality.

I have learned of every birdsong sang
outside the outer glass of my window
A single composition
that had once sounded like a clone
a carbon copy of those previously heard
now a sweet waking melody
it emerges from the dark.

I have learned of the quiet and stillness
That is essential to knowing oneself.
All distractions put to bed
My company is my own.
And in the absence of sleep,
I have made a friend in my self.
I've been suffering of terrible insomnia this past while, but there's been a lot of positives to this whole experience too. You learn a lot about yourself when you're bored off your bonnet in the middle of the night haha
989 · Dec 2014
Cherry Bomb
Hannah Beth Dec 2014
She's like flames in your heart and ice on bare skin and the finest creation built of heaven and sin

(how do you even know all of this?)

A smile like ambrosia
leaves you with nothing but
Amnesia

And an unsettled mind

You know nothing of her
But the shape of the prints
Her lips have left
On the side of your neck
Dunno what this is
Hannah Beth Aug 2014
A shining steampunk romance
Found at the end of the earth
Risen from ashes,
whilst a world falls to ruins
around them.
Yet reality is nothing to these girls.

A call to love in apocalypse
A sick smile pulls at her lips
Engulf in flames, my everything,
she says,
Because, ****, it'll be worth this last kiss.

This war rages like a great manic animal
Destruction every step of the way
On opposite sides,
they're to fight for their lives,
it's each to their self and their own.

"They're wrong."
"I know."
"They don't know what we have."

What they're missing is theirs,
a love rarely had.

We're over and we're done,
the world would say,
It's the end of the day.

"Not for us. Not even close."
She takes her hand. Turns her back on all she's lived.
"This, my dear,
This is where life begins."
A poem based on a work of fiction, which, in summary, is a girl/girl romance set in the midst of a fictional world war 3/apocalypse. Ennjjjjooooyyyy
967 · Oct 2014
Coping
Hannah Beth Oct 2014
Some say
That with victory – a continuity is required.
To win, you must, win, and win again
You claim each battle as your own ‘til life
meets its end.

I bask in these triumphs as much as the next
Relish the sick clang as the hilt gripped between my fingers
Wobbles with each and every blow
To an enemy’s weakened defence

As I watch rival fortresses vanish
In the smouldering chimney puff
That follows the blaze of the bomb

                        just like that.
Boom. Do you see that? Look. It’s gone.

Last moments in castle courtyards
As medals of valour are draped
Round the veins of my neck.
(Look what I can do. I am powerful.
                                                       ­  Or so I thought.
)

No soldier is prepared for this.
The battle of the mind
Sharpened sword is useless
Throw your armour to the floor
No protection can be given
Clouds swell like balloons and blacken the corners
Of your brain
Eating from the edge like parasites
And this, I fight unarmoured.
Unarmed
And petrified.

So no.
I can’t say I agree.
To me
A victory
Does not entail an ounce of continuity.

For myself, any achievement
Is a success
No matter how large
How small
How scattered or random
Or spaced over time
If I can make it through the day
With a smile on my face
Sweet Victory, it’s mine.
Perrrrrrrrrsooonaaaaaaal shiiiiaaaat.
941 · Apr 2015
Building Blocks
Hannah Beth Apr 2015
the soft lisp in my speech
it bothered me
the not quite there
length of my hair
and the gap between my two front teeth

the fear that shook my bones at an adult's vicious tone
the tightness of the chest when I didn't fit among the rest
The smitten talk of boys to which I couldn't quite relate
Longing looks in the mirror in lost hopes of losing weight

Long hours spent at night writing fiction far away
The hooded eyes come morning when I wasn't quite awake
The look in classmates eyes when teachers pulled me aside
Questions of home and finding help and the reason I was so **** quiet

Not knowing just why
I kept hidden my poisoned life
It ripped me up inside

But given time
I have realised

All these little things
It is true -
They do bother me
They do, they do.

Yet without every piece
Every burning memory

No less than you are you
I simply would not be

Me
coming to terms with a lot of nasty stuff and realising that all of my experiences be they incredible or toxic still make me a fabulous as **** person  and stronger if anything :)
941 · Jul 2014
A letter to you.
Hannah Beth Jul 2014
You are
The first delicate ray of sunshine
On a dreary Novembers’ day

You are
The pounding rush of adrenaline
Felt at a concert barrier

You are
The reassuring smile
Treasured in the midst of calamity

You are
The warm woollen blanket
Wrapped round my shoulders at night

You are
The butterflies found inside me
At the peak of a roller coaster

You are
The first birdsong
At the end of a sleepless night

You are
Every beauty in this world
To me.
sappy as hell i'm aware
This can be taken as both romantic and platonic
To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what I intended it to be myself
939 · May 2015
Recovery
Hannah Beth May 2015
Little changes are adding up like the
Drip drop of water that pools in the bathroom sink
from a rusty metal tap not quite stoppered.

And I am glad it is opened.

I am glad to look up from the little pool of changes turned large
To flick my eyesight skywards and head on into the mirror that steams up with condensation as I breathe

and I'm me

I breathe, and I know I am alive.
I look in this mirror and just like all the water droplets I see all the changes

And they're in me.

The tap is gushing freely since the day I took control
I took residence in the drivers seat and found the courage to twist the metal between my fingers and let it be how it is to be

And I am healthy

I see lights in my eyes again
I see a shine in my hair
I see new length to it too
I see clothes chosen with flair

I see colour flood my skin and a smile that shows teeth
I see red painted lips and weight off my hips
I see confidence in my stance, upright and straight
I see peace and tranquility less smothered by hate

But most of all, and finally
I see what I have always wanted
I see, and I know that if I am not free
I am soon to be

(I see recovery.)
926 · Oct 2014
10w
Hannah Beth Oct 2014
10w
I don't love you

but one fine day
I could
907 · Aug 2014
"Just Friends"
Hannah Beth Aug 2014
The events of last night
tattooed on my mind

The look in your eyes
Glassy and drunken
Searching for mine

And when they met
And your lips found
Mine so feverish and
Desperate
Those few moments alone
Your tongue tinged with *****
To match my own
A kiss betwixt night
and dawn
Your arms found my waist

No words could be uttered
For fear of memories found when
we wake
Experimental but I like this so I figured I'd post it
906 · Sep 2014
Intoxicated
Hannah Beth Sep 2014
Words atop words
Undoubtedly slurred
Vision in circles
Again and over
Over and again
So blurred

That kind of reality
It lasts an eternity
And nothing
Nothing at all

Each and every searing shot
Like a bullet in the throat
Fills you with a fire so brief
Violent in its moment
Short, sick, sweet

Then, the cool relief
Bottle after bottle
Lends a beautiful confidence
A smile from ear to ear
And in that moment you’re alive
Attached to nothing
Filled like the glass bottle
From which you sip
Filled up high
With gratitude of everything
Of everyone
Of here.
writing about being drunk whilst sober is a lot harder than i thought
905 · May 2015
An Exchange (5w)
Hannah Beth May 2015
"It's unparalleled."
"What is?"
"You."
Just a piece of dialogue that stuck with me while I was writing
901 · Oct 2014
10w
Hannah Beth Oct 2014
10w
I long for adventure with you,
over and over
again.
874 · Sep 2014
I fear nostalgia
Hannah Beth Sep 2014
I have slept in a forest
I have kissed in the rain
Set fire to plastic
With nothing to gain
I have stared at the stars
From a trampoline
In the dead of the night
On a ***** blurred Halloween
I have lain on the roof
At the break of dawn
With a then best friend
Now a memory long gone
I have experimented
More than I’d like to admit
Known the taste of his tongue
Or the touch of her lips
I have woken up in places
Seen never before
Had a sea of regrets
Regretted no more
In less than four years I have
Lived a life fuller than most
And looked down on by many
They turn up their noses
A life ruled by
Sheer impulse mistaken
For utter stupidity
But I’m scared
I am petrified
These days won’t last
To be eighteen forever
Is all I ask
basically me just being an  overly sentimental teenager who doesn't wanna stop going to parties n making dumb decisions
873 · Sep 2014
caught red handed
Hannah Beth Sep 2014
there are stains of paint trapped in the rolls of her sleeves
like the fly that lives
in my cobwebbed shed
little fragile splatters of creativity

And I can't help but notice how
The light dances on her face
Not a waltz or a ballet
But newfound art unrecognised
and a beauty all the same

all these words fall from her mouth
My neck is burned raw with garden sunshine
I can't help but feel like the heat on my skin
Has moved to my cheeks
Like the red of her lips

She's caught sight of it all
Sports a childlike grin
For the first time in weeks
It is in her eyes that it swims

And she asks what I'm looking at
And I smile then, too.

"What am I looking at?
...
Well, it's definitely not you."
Something different :)
872 · Jun 2015
Sunshine
Hannah Beth Jun 2015
Golden words make
For a golden painted life

A little tarnished,
Yes.

But surely in reach,
And surely in sight.
Positivity is the key to success yo
771 · Sep 2014
possibility
Hannah Beth Sep 2014
Leave a door open for us
Even a crack will do

And I'll leave my window latch unlocked

****, boy
I really do miss you.
Feeling rather melancholy tonight
Hannah Beth Sep 2014
I am not scared anymore
For I know
That for every horror that has been endured
Every scar carved into my soul
Each hardship
That has made me who I am
There are ten thousand stars out there
Shining bright against the dark
Like holes poked in boxes
of a cardboard earth
And they shine bright, beam with promise
Of joy and light
And have simply waited to reveal themselves
Until my time was right
A bit more personal than previous poems but ***** it if it's positivity it deserves to be spread
755 · Jun 2015
"Grown-ups"
Hannah Beth Jun 2015
You sat on coloured carpets
As a child
Wondering when the time would come
To grasp certain four lettered mysteries -
Titled love, life. Both questions for another day.

You stand now on technicolour floors
Painted, though not quite as vivid
Manufactured this time round - glass mirror-bred tricks of the light.

And all those mysteries from so long ago - far off questions left for a far off day - they baffle you just the same.
nearly nineteen and still clueless as hell
754 · Feb 2015
Cellar Door
Hannah Beth Feb 2015
There is a boy over there

            No more than seventeen

No less than insane

(To some, that is. Some who can't see.)

This boy has a friend
(And yet no friends at all)

Who wears a great big mask at night
And makes Donnie feel small

Two universes,
One fate that can't be fought

versus a lonely boy,
a lonely girl,
and all of their genius thoughts
A poem for my favourite film :)
754 · Apr 2015
10w
Hannah Beth Apr 2015
10w
Who knew
Life could be so

blue
without
you

(who?)
Hannah Beth Dec 2014
She wanders graveyards
Weaves through headstones
To and Fro

in the morning's early hours
to the cold graveyard
she'll go

far from dark or morbid
She just likes to read the names
Imagines lives and lovers and cities
Behind dates on marble graves

Quite often she will worry
For the souls beneath her feet
She fears for those forgotten
Those she never got to meet

She does not weep
But for them she wishes
For all those deserving, she thinks,
A second life could be given

"Taken too soon,"
She reads from the grave

Words she's never found so true

Until she had nothing
But a picture
trapped in a shattered glass frame

"I won't let it happen.
Not now.
Not to you.
(How could anyone let a soul like yours be forgotten?)
...
I think that the earth would stop spinning
If I ever stopped missing you."
bittuva sad one
716 · Feb 2015
4:23am - Realisations
Hannah Beth Feb 2015
I am not all too sure
Of the point at which
Night turns bright
To morning twilight
All I know
In this hour of twenty-three minutes
Past four
Is solid fact that keeps
Me awake in wonder;
I have only now come to see
A mind like yours
(Correction - your mind. Singular.)
Is unlike any I have explored
If you'd forgive me for not seeing so
Sooner
I hope you'd allow me a tour
(It's perfectly okay if not. I only feel as though you and I - we could be more.)
Late night/early morning thoughts
Hannah Beth Apr 2015
I want to float,
yet moreso than floating I want to fade
into the blackness of the universe beyond earth and
all there is to roam in its folds, to fly beneath and above the
stars that shine against blankets of navy that
swallow them all up come sunrise

And waking up ignites such horror and moreso
than anything in those foggy minutes
between sleep and wakefulness is
the fatigue that sparks my everlasting
longing to jet off among the galaxies and
to ****** well live there til our time ends --

Never to return --

for it is far better out there where it is so close to untouched,
than here,
smothered,
in this false darkness following sleep.
a drip drop drabble of messy thoughts concerning my worrying inability to wake up these days
715 · Sep 2014
Create (5w)
713 · Jan 2015
look up
Hannah Beth Jan 2015
I may be far from a sober mind
And you may be far away, dear
But maybes are made to be built on
And things can only be built up from here
I'm not drunk you're drunk
#hi
710 · Sep 2014
C-minus
Hannah Beth Sep 2014
Life is but a grade, isn't it?
A silent message drilled in every day
an unwritten rule,
Undeniably implied:
we're all just letters on
The blankest of white space.

Those jagged coloured crosses
Pierce me every time
a zero on that question,
An X through all I write
Again and again
Like a thorn through my skin
And my every fibre of confidence.
The artificial longing to improve
***** all the passion from within.

whatever happened to hobbies?
To our hopes and our dreams?
To the thrill of the stage
Or the big silver screen?

All now come second
To that letter on that sheet.
It's a new kind of sickness
chokes those who try to breathe.

lock those dreams in a safe, son,
hunker down,
Make me proud.
Those old dreams don't exist, son,
Just a grade,
in sloppy ink.
Often I lose my temper with people when they question why I hate school so much, the way it's run, etc, and I hope this poem explains my feelings that little bit better than muttered responses thought up on the spot
705 · Dec 2014
Nervous
Hannah Beth Dec 2014
Making the journey
From thought to word -

Grasping at nervous jitters that
Shake my fingers like the rattle
Of an infant

And telling them as firm I can -
"STOP,"
"Don't,"
"this should be easy."

Is about as easy as mending a shattered glass whole


Speaking up.
No, no. No.
Speaking at all.
It is no less than a marathon.
And the marathon is done, eventually. I've spoken. It's fine.
(Managed a smile, too. The shaking's almost gone.)

Yet the race, it remains invisible. No trophies or medals
For this marathon.

I pray to gods I don't even know.
I wish the sweating gone
falling across my skin in waves and tumbles
It's far harder to hide when they come along

(The shaking is easily concealed.
Two smokes - nonexistent. ****.
Sorted. Done.)

But talking was never meant to be medicated

Bury this anxiety. Bury it dead and gone.

I'm finished with just getting by

The world is mine from dawn.
A big f*** you to the devil that is social anxiety
696 · Feb 2016
fun
Hannah Beth Feb 2016
fun
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
again

his and hers
hers and his
(no,
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
anyway
an ode to bisexuality and playin the field in general
i was feeling a little wild what can i say
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