Make me cry - Hello Poetry

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9°

Janelle Tanguin

i'm sorry. i thought i was done writing about you

i.

I intentionally failed to wish you
a happy birthday this year,
though I know significant dates,
hours, moments, people,
by heart.
I still search for you in boys
I mistake for bandages,
the ones with eyes almost
the same shade of your hazels,
lips resounding your laughter,
resembling a wisp of your smile,
But they aren't you.

ii.

Sometimes I pretend you're dead,
because it's less painful
to stop reaching out into voids.

iii.

My mom still blames you
for everything that preceded that year.
Though you probably had no idea what happened
when we stopped talking altogether.
Can you believe it's almost been three years?

iv.

My dad wonders who was my 'one that got away'
Though, I'm pretty sure he knows
it's you.

v.

Remember how I mentioned Sylvia Plath?
How most everything she wrote
brimmed with melancholy?
How I loved every single word?
Especially that piece
where she talked about expectations
and disappointments.
You'll never know that
up to this day I still think
people are selfish enough to
always, eventually turn into the latter.
Even you.

vi.

It's sad I never got the chance
to tell you about Ted.
How she loved him so much,
she just had to dive headfirst
into the flames-- burning herself,
what was left of her--
after she found out
he never really loved her
the same way
she loved him
in the first place.

vii.

truth is,
some of us
never learn to accept
the love we think we deserve.

viii.

I don't know if you still read my poems
or if you still think about me,
about us, sometimes.
Every time you fall asleep past eleven,
a part of me hopes you do.
because I always remember you--
in birthday candles, red ribbons,
off-tune voice records, golden arches,
concrete sidewalks, pedestrian lanes,
the last flickers of city lights
softly fading out of the blue.
I remember you
in everything, in everywhere,
in everyone.
It's useless, no matter how much I try to forget.
No matter how much I just want to forget.
I want to forget.

But, how could I?

When forgetting means forsaking
the very memory of you.

#love #nostalgia #forgetting #remembering #citylights #poetry #memories

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8°

Apro

Why.

Why do I feel this way?
Why can’t you just get out of my head?
Why can’t I stop thinking?
Why do I still miss you?
Why can’t I do anything?
Why can’t I just live a good life?
Why can’t I find anyone?
Why does no one care about me?
Why does my life matter?
Why did You do what you did?
Why did I do nothing about it?
Why do I suffer?
Why did I just let you walk away?
Why can I still remember that day?
Why can’t I be happy?
Why can’t I be loved?
Why Do I Have To Keep On Living?

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8°

Srijani Sarkar

Syria

Raindrops forget to
drop
a drop
dropping slowly
the rain forgets to stop
stop
plop
a plop of blood in the ocean of firestorm
now death opened
like an unturned boat in the
middle of the world
to receive the last plummet of hope,
last blessing
in a humane drop from above
above
the above has
no rain for the next season
the winds are afraid to return.

Save Syria. Save humanity. Save the word 'save'.

Notice the stutter in the poem due to fear.

#savesyria #death #catastrophe #blood #fire #inhumanity #end #destruction #peace #cry

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8°

pluto

the absence of color

you wake up
his hair is spilled across the pillow,
the sun slants across his cheekbone
and his breath is slow and even.
he smells like an open field
and his body is wrapped around yours
so he keeps you warm.
you think,
there is no moment better than this,
that he is too perfect to exist.
but you wake up gasping,
skin soaked in sweat.
you lie there for a long time,
in your completely empty bed.

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8°

Taylor - Sweety

Waiting for you

I will not complain that you left me..
Because....
Every minute that you stared at me, made me feel that I look beautiful too..
Every laugh you shared with me, made me feel that I can be happy too..
Every touch of you made me realize that I still can feel love..
Every moment that I spent with you made me feel that life can be beautiful
Yes, I will not complain that you left me…
I will wait for your return..if not this life.. Next life it is..
Yea, you are worth the wait..for me.

#miss #you

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8°

Débijonne

Lost

You said,
you wanted to find
yourself.
Maybe that was why
you left—
breaking my heart.
When you broke it,
you found
yourself
inside.

#poem #poetry #heartbreak #heartbroken

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8°

Libeth

RIP

Flowers surround his tombstone
His epitaph is short
It reads Rest In Peace
Rest In Peace to whom?

Sniffles are heard throughout the eulogy
Dressed in all black to mourn the loss of him
Fake tears coming from all.

He was killed
Killed from the demons inside his head
He was driven to the point of insanity
Lived for 16 years, yet he felt dead his whole life.

A brother, son, and friend.
Lies.
They’re all lies.
He didn’t have anyone, nor did anyone have him.

Mistreated, Beaten, and Abused
That’s who he was.
No one knew a single thing about him.
Thrown out, never loved.

A suicide.

The world was against him
He was forgotten by everyone.
Forgotten when alive, but remembered when dead.

Rest In Peace

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7°

Aryan Sam

Hi

Years ago
We stayed up till
3 am talking,
And today
I don’t even know
How to say hi,

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7°

Alex B

Someone stole my color

Someone stole my color
And threw it to the wind
Scattered like ashes
I don’t know if I’ll ever find it

Someone stole my color
From the face I know so well
I saw it in the cotton candy clouds
And the teal ocean swell

Someone stole my color
I guess that’s where it went
The world looks so much brighter
Like something heaven-sent

Someone stole my color
And that’s what no one knows
Depression isn’t black
It’s the color of a rose

It’s the light orange in a sunset
And the yellow of a peach
Light blue, my favorite color
So simply out of reach

Purple like my favorite eyeshadow
No, lavender, I’d guess you’d say
And my favorite music artist
Although he has passed away

Someone stole my color
Now everything’s too bright
I suppose sometimes darkness
Isn’t the opposite of light

Someone stole my color
So I’ll wear grey and black
As if in mourning
Until I get it back

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7°

Dust

You, Me, Us, We

You
With your words
The Knife.
You.

Me
Knowing and not knowing,
Afraid and clueless.
Me.

Us
A thing that used to be,
The dust on the mantle.
Us.

We
Will never be the same
The blood that was spilled across the floor.
We.

This crime scene filled with pain and sorrow and regret. The murderer and the victim one in the same—but also separate. Two hearts that both dance to the same miserable song.

I don't know why this poem is so popular... I've done better...

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7°

Ian Lewis Copestick

Democracy ?

Don't talk to me about democracy
How we can control our lives
It's nothing but hypocrisy
There's no control in sight

No matter who we hate, or who we back
We will never have any real say
A million people marched against invading Iraq
Yet for years they were bombed night and day

Remember the W.M.D. s
Their reason for more death ?
Who knows what it will be
What reason will be next ?

Now it's Syria, where the innocent die
Well, I for one, never voted for that
Who knows where, knows why
Their lies will next be presented as fact

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7°

Sea's End

Slipping

I can feel her slipping away.
And yet,
I'm not holding on, either.

big ol' dent on my relationship

#love #hurting #distance

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7°

rebecca

maybe not death, but something close

do you have moments, where you can’t imagine a future?
you’re lying there, staring at the
same walls
same ceilings
same words
with nothing but the same feelings-
empty and pale,
like there’s no reason to go on,
when you can’t even do enough to fail.
the future is coming, but you don’t want to be in it,
can’t imagine yourself in it.
where you just want to stop.
everything.
and just sit there for a while.
maybe not death, as that’s too permanent,
but something close to it.
when you can feel the rope around your neck,
the razor on your wrist,
the way the pills taste.
you can imagine it, and you aren’t sure if it’s what you want,
or just the feelings you imagine it will give you

Is this depression?

#numb #depression #anxiety #suicide #future #life #death #sad #empty

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7°

Rose

I miss you, Mom.

Do you remember when I was younger?
Do you remember when you would wash my hair because it was too long for me to do it myself?
Do you remember taking me to school in the morning and buying me breakfast on the way there?
Or maybe when we would go to yard sales on Saturday and you would buy me old prom dresses and costume jewelry for me to dress up in?
Do you remember when I developed separation anxiety and had to sleep with you every night?
Now, I wash my own hair because I cut the long lengths of it off.
Now, I take myself to school in the morning and buy myself breakfast on the way.
Now, I work on Saturdays to save up for my prom dress.
Now, I sleep alone, clinging to my pillow.
Now, I miss you more than ever before.
I miss when you had hair as long as mine.
I miss when you would do my makeup and tell me that I hardly needed any at all.
I miss when you would play outside with me.
I miss when you would rub my back and hold me, whispering that everything would be okay.
I miss when I had someone to talk to, someone to tell how my day went.
I miss your smile, the way your lips curled into thin lines and your gums showed.
I miss your eyes, the same deep dark chocolate brown as mine.
I miss your voice, the soft yet raspy one that would wake me up every morning.
I miss you, mom.
And I don’t think there will ever be a day when I don’t miss you.
Some days are harder than others.
Some days I can hardly function,
And others, I wake up as if there is nothing wrong.
But deep in my heart, there is a hole.
One that can never be filled.
It just slowly drips out loneliness,
And it makes me miss you more and more.

3-16-18

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7°

lindy

j.h

my first crush committed suicide.
i remember the hurt at a young age
from chasing him around his living room
begging him for a kiss.
from my young age i knew i wanted him
in my life forever.
through his weaves and gagging
running around the furniture and up the stairs,
losing him sounded foreign then
and having lost him now, still feels the same.
our fathers drank and our mothers giggled
born three months apart
our future planned together
both saying "i do"
uniting us all together.
life flew on by
us both fighting with ourselves
and downing the bottles underneath the bed
loaded and silenced
family portraits painted in red
long life memories all put to rest.
only one made it out alive
but it's hard to breathe
out of us how was it me
and you in a little box
where a diamond ring should be.
my mind keeps wondering
when will i stop chasing you
then my heart replays
every time you turned a corner
you looked over your shoulder
and how you smiled at me.

i miss you

#suicide

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6°

sunprincess

Cry of Mother Earth

Tears fall both day and night falling, falling
a heartbreaking cry of mother earth

Doesn't anyone hear the sound of sadness
in the song of every songbird?

There's an echoing cry deep in every valley
a tremble in every tree

And with each piercing cry upon the wind
And every howl of pain

Never ending tears flow and flow like rivers
mixing in with the rain

And with every animal scurrying for cover
searching for a place to hide

Rivers of poison keep on flowing and flowing,
down every mountainside

Alas, boulders and stones have awakened
from their slumber long, so long

And they've begun engraving epic poetry,
brilliant pieces like a sad song

A gift for you and me

Climate change means the earth is deathly ill :(

#cry #mother #earth #pain #poetry #sorrow

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6°

krm

Writing Suicide Notes In Gel Pen

Clothes have outgrown me many times over,
but this sadness never does.
One size.
fits all.
There should have been an obituary for cancer, not you.
Wishing these slits within my skin could have been
replaced by a reality check from you, “You chose to exist.”

My name causes a sigh to escape from lips,
that do not feel like they belong to me,
the girl,
whose words always had to be special.

The schematics of hospitals like a birthmark in my brain,
born into sadness, a gut feeling as a child.
Never trusting time
due to what it delivers.

Death, being the only thing I desired.
But you,
who I love,
endlessly-
robbed by it.
Whose ebb for life glowed so feverishly.
Stopped comparing depression to lace,
restricted the belief that suicide is poetic,
seeing things as they were.
More often than not, applauded for feeling emotions deeply.
Every second that dies, the shift of my heart quakes.

This world is not tender.

II. Sad.
I have known the flowers I wanted at my own premature funeral,
knowing how many bouquets honored you that day.

split open my veins like a dimension
reminiscent of days where I anticipated deathbeds.

My family wondered,
can we make it through another day?
Death scares me for what it has taken,
yet, I’m not afraid to die-
it’s all I deserve.
So I await the day pain erupts
from my throat,
acknowledging the days a soul
lived inside of my body-
footprints that walked,
belonging to me.

But I learned so well.
How to suffer with a smile,
dreading the beating of my heart
how unfair—
I don’t want to take these deep breaths
You deserved,while I masquerade as a member of the undead
Never outgrowing the desire to rot with the phantoms residing under my bed.

III. Jokes played by the universe.
punchlines delivered,
how could anyone to stand to be in the same room as myself?
How could anyone look over skyscrapers and sunsets,
and not be infatuated with concrete consuming them?
How I shared a sigh of relief during the thought-
of knowing people would thrive without me,
or the power of a belly laugh,
resembling a laugh track audience
drowning out 3 AM suicidal thoughts.

I wrote this in pink gel pen, maybe, that’s another joke.

#ramblingssadlonelydepressedidk #pain #sadnsss

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6°

Rahama

Nefarious Breed

...
     "This isn't who you are."

    "You're not the girl I used to know."

   "I don't know who you've become."

He repeats these lines
So much these days
It annoys me more than
A broken record ever could
Ever should
Ever would
Cause I told him
I warned him thoroughly

     "I'm not nice."

    "You won't like the real me."

   "I'm not worth fighting for."

But he didn't listen
He filled my head with empty
Promises that he meant
He filled my heart with hollow
Vows that he could never fulfill

     "How can a person be so cold?"

    "How can a lady be so cruel?"

   "How can you change so fast?"

He looks hurt and
I hurt a little
But I shut down
Cause that's what I always do

     "I'm nefarious, lover."

    "Had my heart broken a few times."

   "Now it's made of stone."

I hope Nefarious Breed finds this.♥♥♥

#nefarious #breed #wicked #evil #nice #cruel #heart #hurt #broken

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6°

Valsa George

a storm rages outside
sky, overcast with clouds
fearful sounds echo through
the mountain crannies
like that of shrieking bats in flight
trees shiver under wind’s might

everything around
presages an impending doom
the least pressure would suffice
to let all the hellfire loose

sitting in my dim lit room
with all the windows shut
unable to drown the emptiness
afloat in irrepressible buoyancy
I glance over the balance sheet
of my life

all sweet memories gone
shaking their mane
like horses galloping away

bitter memories
only bitter memories remain!

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6°

RH 78

End of a life long journey

Flooded lungs.
Last breath taken.

Crushed heart.
Laboured pump.

Aching body.
Lie still. Rest now.

Dry eyes thin mottled skin.
Lids closed.

1 last memorial laid for a Husband, Dad, Grandad, friend.

R.I.P. M

Death comes to all bar none. Father in law passed. R.I.P. M

#death #life #skin

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6°

Lila

The truth about lies

People lie and say it's going to be ok
People lie and say we will make it through this
They lie and say they would do any thing for me
The lies drown me
They never leave my head
They haunt me forever
They taunt me till I give up
People lie and say they would climb the highest mountain with me
But it's to late because I've already let go

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5°

Apollo

Roses are red, Violets are blue

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Sugar is sweet
And so are you

But the roses are wilted
The violets are dead
The sugar bowl is empty
And my wrists are stained red

AND BEHOLD!! A thing

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5°

Jay

Stupidest Things

I'M MAKING nachos in your toaster oven. The chips fall in the pan without a problem. Beans, evenly distributed (if I do say so myself.) Salsa- good to go. Then the cheese. Generic brand shredded cheese blend. I dangle my (washed) fingers into the zip-lock bag, grab a generous pinch and rain mild cheddar down on my gourmet meal. And I feel the tears building. "No," my conscious scolds, "you will not cry over shredded cheese." I add another pinch for flavor, then another to assert dominance. I slide the pan into the tiny oven- triumphant! But the next task breaks me. I freeze when I try to adjust the heat setting. I hear your voice so clearly, like you're still calling from the next room: "you have to press the TOAST button, it cooks much faster." The tears start to roll. I think about how excited you were when cheese bubbled perfectly- "just a little brown, ever so slightly crispy." We would joke about your persnickety preferences, likely a product of your superior taste. Of course, you would have appreciated anything I made for you, but it was always better when the dish matched the idea in your head...when I made it like you would have made it (if you were only well enough to cook for yourself again.) In the present, I poke the TOAST button and flee the kitchen as to not cry in front of the smothered chips. I sit on the sofa and break down, gasping in childish sobs. "I miss her," I wail to an empty house. Warm tears coat my cheeks in the air-conditioned room. I feel so small. I feel so foolish for crying over stupid, little things. I feel so... so... A bell dings in the kitchen. I wipe my sleeve across my face and traipse back to the toaster. Hand into oven mitt, mitt onto pan, pan onto table. I grab the plastic tubs of sour cream and guacamole from the fridge and a spoon from the drawer that sticks a little when you try to open it. I pick the non-wilted bits off the head of lettuce and rinse them under the faucet. I finish the recipe. I pull out a chair. I sit down to nachos for one.

Grief is such a strange emotion/process.

*Oh my! Thank you all so much for your support! I wrote this back in June when I needed to get it out of my head and had no idea it was chosen as a daily until I just logged back on and thought there was a glitch with my notifications number. I was slightly mortified that a piece of my mourning got exposure but after reading your comments I'm glad that I documented something many of you identified with. I've since journeyed a bit farther in my grief- slowly overcoming my initial instinct of trying to instantaneously analyze every feeling to determine whether I'm "allowed" to have it. I went to a group bereavement meeting offered by the hospital that treated the loved one in this poem and the nurse running the session made a good point- no one can fully understand another person's relationship with an individual who's passed on. Interpersonal relationships are unique and so is grieving. Being gentle with yourself (especially in times of struggle) is woefully underrated. And with that, I send love, gratitude, and positive vibes to this wonderful community

#loss #grief #food #small #things #love #death #missing #mourning #moving

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5°

unloved

raindrop

She was looking at the sky in a hope that at least one raindrop will fall on her dry skin. Because even that meaningless raindrop would mean something to her. She would give everything for that one moment

moment of feeling.

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5°

Aubrey Jones

a little too much too late

sometimes i really wish i could disappear
though everyone says they would miss me
i really doubt it
i don't know
maybe they would
think of all the things they've ever done wrong
think of which one was the tipping point
when did they cross that line?
i can see it now
the candle light vigils
the peer speeches about how caring and loving i was
the fake tears a shocked conversations
"this didn't have to end the way it did"
"I wish we'd known, we would've helped in any way we could've"
but you do know
you can help
but oh i'm sorry i forgot
it's easier to pretend
than it is to care

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5°

Prerna Singh

Untitled

I had to forget you
But I ended up hating you
Instead

'Hate' another strong word

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5°

Katie

Ptsd

All the moments get replayed
Every mistake I've ever made
Flashing through inside my head
Makes me wish I were dead.
Makes me wish I were dead.

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5°

Undone

Knowing

I walked to school today

Knowing I cried myself to sleep last night

Knowing no one knew

Knowing that was my power that I owned over everyone else

#alone #trapped #help #ihatemyself #depression

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5°

Austin Ryskamp

Just “some body”

My options are few
I honestly only have two
Wait for you......
Or don’t
The equality in pain strains my soul out of my body
Floating above myself saying “somebody help that guy”
My own soul doesn’t recognize me anymore
I’ve become a frail pale corpse of just existing
Negative purpose deeper then the surface of the hurt on my face
I positively have no place to race at the pace I use to run at.
My body is worn down to much
The chest I kept joy in before has been stolen
The X marked the spot, you hit the jackpot
Stealing away yourself, the only treasure I had
The hole that was dug created a cavity
Not one that a dentist could fill
But one that made me empty without you, my sweet Emily.
No pill or drug can take my pain away
As my soul still apart from me thinks maybe life is better this way?
A soulless existence with no feelings to have destroyed
Like a robot or just “some body” null and void

#pain #sadness #roboticfeelings

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5°

Mari

Worthless

My heart feels like
it's about to shut down
from all the truths
that only I know

People view me
as kind
selfless
heartfelt
with empathy

Yet once they witness
my darker side
this inner demon
that is always
a few steps behind me

Once they see
the ashes and smeared blood
tainted within my mind and heart

I am once again alone
alone to pick up the pieces
of a love that never was

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4°

Kayley Godek

Grief Anniversary

My body somehow knows
The grief tomorrow holds.
I ache and throb
But I cannot sob;
The urge to cry
Stings my eyes.
My feet drag heavily
In the depths of this valley.
Every year without fail
I remind myself I am too frail.
"You're strong without the numbers,"
Yet I was too weak to pull you from your slumber.
Each March 22nd
Feels just like the 1st end,
When your heart stopped beating
And mine started bleeding.
I'd skip this whole day
But I'd miss the chance to say:
I miss you, lovely little hurricane.
It's all I can do to keep sane.
The smell of mint
Hurts just a hint.
The skinny jeans and hair bows
I could never disown.
I wear your effect
On my forearm *****.
The pain of loss is akin
To etching you into my skin.
My hands shake with cold,
Though not as cold as a headstone.
Oh, how my body knows
The grief tomorrow holds.

In Loving Memory of Kelcy Golling.
07/02/1999 - 03/22/2014

#loss #grief #progress #anniversary

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4°

odessa

numb

as long as you say i love you
pouring rain in the afternoon
i will believe you
just because i want to be broken
and when you left me alone in the dark
i will destroy myself
in a room full of dust and tear
my sweet blood
my numb soul
my wounded body
gonna haunt you

i do not feel fine and i can not express my feelings so this is the mess inside my head

#broken #fine #numb #blood

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4°

Christopher Victor Russon

The invisible man.

He is there but nobody sees him
He speaks but no one can hear
He lives his life in confinement
And no one ever comes near.
To watch him He looks rather lonely
He is lost that is perfectly clear.
Once a child in the arms of his mother
And his father would always be near.
But parants don't last forever
And soon they are no longer here
Now there is nobody out there
To chase away all of his fears.
He walks to his flat he has no one
Loneliness his only friend
Is this what he really lives for
With nothing to show at the end.
Let's start from the very beginning
It happens in this day and age
Take note of this lonely stranger
Invisible in so many ways.

Watched a documentary a couple of years ago about the amount
Of people who live on their own it was amassing. Although this poem
Is a true case of a man who really was let down by the people around
Him saddly he was like being invisible in the eyes of the world.
He just didn't fit in with others .

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4°

Ray Ross

The Day Grandpa Died

My Momma told me this,
"Be strong for your Dad."
So I stood tall, strong for him.
The day Grandpa died.

I put on my snow pants,
I was just a kid,
And walked out into the cold.
Only then, I cried.

I walked alone, through snow.
I barely minded.
Everything was cold that day.
I thought about him.

Larry was a good man.
He liked photographs,
And he taught me how to wink.
Grandma loved him much.

I walked quite far that day,
Before coming home.
I wanted to be alone.
I had to be strong.

On the day Grandpa died,
I didn't eat much.
But I stood tall for my dad.
The day his dad died.

6
5
7
5

#loss #grandpa #grandfather #death #mourning

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