Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
To write poetry is to
tear your soul
in small pieces
and stick them down
on a piece of paper
in a wave
of overcoming power
In the stillness of the night beneath the shimmering stars, the moonlight dims and the world grows quiet,
I think of him.
your smile
your laugh
your hugs
your voice
I remember
our jokes
our time
our moments
and I miss them so much
I miss you
overthinking is the key
to destruction
and i have demolished cities
when you want to be kind
be kind
but when you want to be mean
be kinder
i haven’t posted in a long time, but i’m always writing; the poems just come to me in pieces.
My heart is an unpublished book that I allow only a few to get a glimpse of
outcast
they say
go away
with their eyes
those looks
will always be louder
than their words
do they meet in secret
to plan my demise
or are they perfectly evil
on a whim
social situations
have never been
my strength
but this
this is not on me
is it?
Be patient with me
I’m still a work in progress

Somedays I seem put together
But that paint’s not dry just yet

One day I’ll get this right
I’m sorry
I didn't mean to fall in love
Especially with you
Not like this
I can't have you
You'll never be mine
It was too good to be true
You were everything I wanted
You could've been what I needed
I wanted you with me
I wanted you forever
But it could never be
So instead we circle around
Landing blows
Our hearts aching
My world crashing down around me
And all I wanted...
I just wanted to be with you
But it can't be
So I cry and I scream
Writhing in the agony
Of falling in love
With the man
That I can't have
Next page