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I met you in the winter, and I remember
Your hair burned like autumn leaves.
Like a fresh cup of coffee on the skin,
Like embarrassed, flushed red cheeks,
And like the suffocating stage lights.

I wished I could be half as bright as you,
Half as warm and welcoming as you,
Half as deep-fried meme-ish as you.
But before you could teach me,
I had to hand you the paper towels.

And we became friends.
always know where the paper towels are, it might gain you a friend. for Liam
My name is Holden Caulfield,
And I might just be a fool.
Picking fights and calling names,
Failing out of private school.

My house is my tombstone,
And killing time is killing me
Like the smoking cigarette
Perched between my teeth.

I'm trading my innocence
For a bottle of apathy
Because the harsh light of reality
Is beating down on me.

I'm so brain dead and bored,
I'm almost six feet in the ground.
Chasing after nothing at all,
A carousel spinning round and round.

I went on a small vacation
To avoid my fate by passing time.
Is idly watching life go by
A punishable crime?

A bunch of plans in my head,
but they're all half hearted.
I'm lacking a catalyst,
but the reaction never started.

I'm the leading actor
In my own theatrical tragedy.
Should I just burn my script,
Instead of becoming a casualty?

I just want to be a kid again,
And put my problems on pause.
I'm fighting against growing up,
A martyr for a dying cause.

I call everyone a phony,
But the truth is still the same.
I'm a smart aleck feigning stupid,
With only himself to blame.
There’s no point in going to bed
Or closing the shutters on my eyes
Because I believe that sleep is for the dead
And rest I don’t prioritize

There is no American noise
When everyone else is quietly slumbering
One of my favorite parts about three AM
Is peace and tranquil wondering

My brain is like a pair of eyes
And the optometrist is changing the lens
Conjectures and notions are out of focus
Here and there and back again

My mind is an untuned radio
Thoughts, an endless garble of static
I’m swimming in between the airwaves
And my body functions are automatic

Languor sometimes hits me
Like a wave crashing on a shore
But soon enough it has dissipated
As if it was never there before

Count the circles ‘round my eyes
Like the rings on an ancient tree
How many sleepless nights am I at now?
Because melatonin is an escapee.

My spirit is miles and miles away
Wandering where it wants to
If only someone would bring it back
Since sleep is long past overdue.
I wrote this to perform in a poetry cafe, and it focuses on my insomniac tendencies. It's partly inspired by the Insomniac Green Day album. See if you can spot my references! :)
A soft cloud drifts across the sky
like a snow white feather,
effortlessly traveling on the breeze.

Light pierces the cloud like a needle
whose eye is threaded with
the fair, golden hair of the sun.

The shafts of gold ripple
like the patterns on the sand
at the bottom of the sea.

The faint voice of the wind
whistles in my ear, and the
small traveler moves on.
This is a small poem that was inspired by a writing challenge that I did in which you have to use certain words in your poem. I took out the bits that I liked and refined them to make this poem. Enjoy

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