Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Jul 2015 Loststargirl
mk
too many poems
too many poets
describing the
same **** feelings
and yet
throughout the centuries
none of us
have ever found
the right words
// spent my whole life tryna put it into words //

thank you so much for the daily ♡
My mentor spoke to me of two rivals,
Once, they had been friends in some distant past.
But the years have eaten their love and made grudges manifest.
|The two shattered into broken glass

To my wise master I asked only one,
One question... In all my range.
One question I asked:
“What changed?”

In the outskirts, at the home of my daughter
Where you can stare at the stars or passing cars
None more brighter than the other,
We share memories of my grandmother.
In the photographs, she looks so much younger.
Not frail, but a fighter, lover and saintly|

To me, she asks plainly,
One question, and one question only.
Sifting through the ages of years past:
“What Changed?”

At the kitchen table, feeling inadequate,
My lover screaming and frustrated,
I recall memories when we had been intimate.
Times when movement was made for desire and not duty
|A calendar of nights left in confused abstinence

I interrupt.
She delays rage.
I beg,
“What Changed?”

_

In the last few hours of night
The dawn reaches me at last.
I had locked moments-
Literal seconds of time as the truth.
But it was always changing
In flux and morphing.
Turning into something new
Just for a moment, and then on again
“What Changed?”
Everything.
Always.
You are the sweetest of my torments.
You're the tangible torture of citrus
The bite followed by the ****
Fresh and unbearable in the same instance

You're the lemon zest scent;
Sultry, as I quarter fruit
In my hot summer kitchen.
You're the juice in the cut
As the knife knicks my thumb;
The sweetness meeting the wild coppery tang
of blood in my mouth.

You're in the twist in my chest
That exists somewhere between my heart and my stomach
Both organs being wrenched apart...
When I see your picture
And remember that we haven't spoken in months.
Like my poetry? Toss a penny or two my way ;-)

http://www.gofundme.com/Sarahquil
 Jul 2015 Loststargirl
grim-raven
Don't let the unsaid words choke you to death

I miss you
I love you
Forgive me


Don't let the toxicity of these words consume your head

Whisper it, shout it if you must
They won't know it if you're not being just
There's a girl
Everyone thinks she's always fine
The truth is, she was never okay
Even the smallest thing scares her
Her smile is her disguise

She opens her eyes
Suddenly she cries
Her smiles and laughter are all lies
No one knows she fakes it so well
That God himself can't tell

Someone dared to help her
Asked her what she needs
It took a while before she answered,
"All I really need is to breathe."
That was the first time she felt alive.
Inspired by the movie I watched last night. :)
I say I'm okay
but I'm not
I'll have my good days
and I'll have my worst
but until the day
I go to bed without
a feeling of dread
or tears on the bed
pounding in my head
the inability to catch my breath
I'm not okay

I won't truly be okay
Until the day
I can say hello
without having to rehearse it
or wonder if I said it
too quiet
or too loud
if it even came out
and worrying if
the conversation will go past that

If the most I say
about how I'm feeling
is okay
and you had to ask in the first place
I'm probably not

If I'm more worried
if you're okay
than I'm probably not
because until I unlearn
how to pick everybody but myself up
I'm not

I say I'm okay
so you don't have to worry about me
but I'll still cling to all the care
and love you give to me
because I'm still unsure
if its all I get
so until the day
I don't feel the need
for reassurance that you care for me
I'm not okay

Until the day
I can no longer relate to this
I'm not okay
but I'm working on it
I've seen a better part
Of overwhelming emotion
It's strange
An ebb and flow
Of apathy and actually
Living
Feeling an emotion
Feeling a feeling
Feel
When your body
Is alive
And your mind is trying
To let it slide
Behind
I am fine
I am
Life is beautiful
And I want to tell her that I understand
what it feels like to be fake, insignificant,
and a shadow on the sidewalk of society.

And I want to tell her that I also borrow
the experiences of others --
that I, too, learn feelings
by stopping and staring at personal wreckage,
like a tourist of emotions,
like an inevitable wish of a human being.
Next page