A poem a day keep insanity at bay!
or sanity at bay,
honestly either one goes.
I don't know if I can feel love anymore.
I know that there's many people who care a lot about me,
but I don't know where the warm fuzzy feeling in my chest went.
I only feel pain.
I only feel my ghosts replace the air in my lungs with poison,
as they curl up inside me, so I can't breathe.
I don't know if I can feel relaxed anymore.
I know there are times where I'm not completely tense,
but I don't know how to relax my shoulders,
because they're always tensed up to protect me.
I only feel anxiety gripping me tighter everyday.
I only feel fuzzy, not in my heart, but in my head.
I don't know what happened to the good feelings,
because all I feel is pain.
I've had grit in my eyes
for so long.
I've had sleep stuck in my
eyelashes for so long,
refusing to sink and rest.
This is the kind of grit that I cannot wipe away
not the kind of tired I can sleep away.
I've so tired for so long.
When will it go away?
It will go away, right?
I heard you today, calling my name.
The first person to give me that nickname
I heard it clearly, your voice ringing
in the school corridor.
I raced around the corner,
so desperate to see you.
The teasing smile in your voice,
like the way you called after me
when you wanted my attention,
when you wanted to tell me something.
waited for you to say something more.
But I realized that you are another
person who has forgotten me.
The voice wasn't real, but I could swear that it was.
You are haunting me,
your ghost calling to me.
You are stealing my sanity,
making me delusional.
I'm losing my grip on reality.
It's been nearly a year,
and it still hurts.
It still hurts so much!
It hurts to say your name,
you still haunt me as persistently as last year.
My ghost, my lovely ghost.
I cried so hard last night
I couldn't breathe.
Doubled over and crouching down
gasping for air.
Why does it hurt me so much?
When it's obvious you're fine.
You're so much better off now,
but I'm not bitter.
I want you to be happy,
but I want you to miss me.
I want to know that I haven't been forgotten,
that our friendship meant something to you.
But I know how hard you're
trying to erase me from your past.
And I can't help but miss you.
I'm still in mourning of our friendship.
My Therapist said that I have abandonment issues,
says that I tend to idolize the people who leave me,
She says that I build shrines for those who leave,
and tombs for those who stay.
My uncle used to tell me that the clouds would
get lonely so they would come to the ground
in fog form to hang out.
But now I think that the clouds
and the ground are secret lovers,
but everyone is against them.
The sky separates them
and the humans have terrible accidents
when they get lost in it.
Humans get lost in the thickness of their love.
There is no softer breath-taking kiss
than when the fog kisses the ground.
I love you
I love you
I love you
More than you could ever know
More than anyone ever hopes to be loved.
More than you can understand.
More than you can fathom.
A limitless, unconditional, fierce love.
The kind that comes like a passionate hurricane
and still soft and sweet like morning fog.
That's how much I love you.
Know that I never knew love until I met you
and you unlocked doors to emotions
that I never thought were real.
This fierce romantic love never roared
until you awakened it
That's why I always said that you saved my life.
Because you did.
I was dead, the pain was so much
and then you came in,
bringing with you euphoria
that I only ever experienced in small doses.
But ******* when you walked into the room
my blood felt like it was on fire.
A yearning and craving unlike anything
I'd ever experienced before,
not just to feel your body but to know your mind.
To know and behold all quirks
of your personality, everything.
I wanted to be completely submersed
in the universe that is your mind.
So now do you understand what I mean
when I say "I love you" ?
She was real
and not like other people were "real"
she was so real and tangible
she made everyone else I had ever met
fade into the background.
Have you ever met someone like that?
Someone so real that everything else fades?
She was potent and tangible
mysterious and raw
she had no limits
everything she said was potent
with a life of its own.
We spoke in a language no one else understood.
A language we crafted ourselves.
I felt so unspeakably honored to get to know her
but like all beautiful things, they leave.
and she left.
she was infinity, and i did not deserve her.
Happiness* is a *fickle friend
It comes unexpectedly, though usually with reason
and leaves much too soon.
It has never confined itself to our time,
never regular and always fleeting.
It's quite sad.
at least periods are somewhat regular,
though they never bring joy
and only seem to tell you that you're not pregnant.
Funny, though, isn't it?
How things that bring us pain
(emotional and physical)
are regular visitors compared
everyone's fickle friend.
I cannot replace you!
I have tasted your mind,
so similar to mine.
And I cannot forget the taste,
you have ruined me for every single person
that enters my life after
you so dramatically exited.
I know you have changed,
and I have too.
You have become more than your sadness,
while I have covered myself with
hobbies and hope to hide from
this infinite sadness.
I miss you terribly.
You were always the strong one.
And I was left in the ruins when you
took with you the pieces that were
holding me together.
You never even said goodbye...
*Was I not worth a goodbye?
I would really like feedback on what I could do to better my poems.
Also this is obviously about a lost friendship
Depression has made a home in my bones
it curls up inside my rib cage
wounding itself around my heart
This body is a city that used to shine so bright.
Gold and silver dust glowed,
two elements that usually don't
go together blended harmoniously,
you could hear a symphony in your ear.
It was the core.
Now the city is empty,
except for the few stragglers that are trying
to fix it up to its former glory.
It is a lost cause, but they do not yet know
that the bones are decaying,
The heart is beating
but it's bleeding.
Black blood that stains this ugly city.
It's all deteriorating.
Soon it will be transparent.
Then it would be gone
Wrote this at 5 AM. My mind goes haywire at inconvenient times.
Barbie has the prettiest face
says the little girl to her reflection
how could I reach such perfection?
If only somehow I could trace
Barbie's outline and take her place
And so this became her obsession
to doubt herself and fear rejection
So there, her life became a maze.
Barbie's really only plastic.
The realization comes much too late.
All these years have been wasted.
Ideals shouldn't be so drastic.
A stressed out model is about to break,
"Don't worry, we'll Photoshop" they said.
— The End —