Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
-
stuck Apr 2014
-
Emotions are like a vast ocean;
there are small, large currents

You're the largest current,
the largest tidal wave i experience,
in the deep depths of my tummy

Your scent, i can smell it
Those waves knock me over,
leaving me gasping for air

Your bright eyes, they're beautiful
The currents pull me from below,
i can't breathe

Walking past you,
you swept me off my feet
I'm now drowning,
in the large endless sea

"Maybe it wasn't meant to be,"
You walked away from me,
it meant truly nothing to you

The waves engulfed me
I'm sinking,
my limp body within your very currents

They said emotions are like a vast ocean,
you were the whole **** sea.
first poem c: criticism would be greatly appreciated - find me on twitter twitter.com/_pxstelpetals
stuck May 2014
Would I
still be
a poet
if none
of my
works
are read?
are my works being read or are they being placed like dust specks in little corners of untrodded
stuck May 2014
i don't want to feel this way but this is the only way i feel
came up with this in like two seconds
stuck Aug 2015
i used to hate fullstops

i hated the way they ended
stories which i never wanted
to see ending

i hated the way they sit
on the side of a page
thinking that they had the authority
to stop. and restart

i hated the way they didn't signify
a beginning, only an end
and the possibility of things continuing
were never certain

but what was certain,
was it's end

poetry‘s not meant to be certain
it's not meant to close up a story with a single line
or a single rhyme
must less a single dot

but then your life starts spinning
and suddenly you're looking at this tiny dot
and just wishing it could appear in your life
so that your story can finally end.
stuck Aug 2015
ever felt so many emotions
you went numb

ever heard silence so loud
it was deafening

ever saw light so bright
all you saw was darkness

because your life is a paradox

you gave it too much meaning now
*it means nothing at all
read the poem - then read just the italics - italics are meant to portray what it feels like to sink in sadness (or some people would call it- depression)
stuck Aug 2015
i used to think poetry was alliteration,
assonance, rhyme and rhythm
literary devices like onomatopoeia

but then i found the number of people
who wrote poetry about love
hurt, pain, brokenness
numbness

then i realised
poetry was simply being touched by you
being cut up and forced
to live with bleeding wrists and
a bleeding heart

the blood left on the sheets
that's what poems are made of
stuck Aug 2015
your palm on my neck my back against the wall
hush you said

so seal my lips i did but seal
my lips is all i ever did and
when things go wrong still
you made me seal my lips

they
stay shut now

so even if you ask me how
my day went or how things
at home are or whether i still
or would ever love you -

my lips
they stay shut
stuck Aug 2015
you know how it feels to be ditched and thrown away,
yet you ask me why i'm wary of people.

you know how much it hurts to be broken down,
yet you ask me why i’m wary of people.

you know how it feels to be betrayed by those closest to you,
yet you ask me why i’m wary of people.

you already know why i'm wary of people,
yet you still ask me why.

— The End —