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 Oct 2017 Sandra Lee
Lindsay
Standing solid and still
just like the red oak it once was.
I trust it will hold me.
It’s sturdy and reliable.
Like the man who once sat in it.
The man who once held me.

It’s a coffee and cream color with
highlights of gold
and low lights of auburn
and each crack and stain tells  
a story

The Maleficent purple stain
on the back right leg.
a toddler that would grow to be me
running with a PB&J in hand
unaware of my brother's Hot Wheels Derby
taking place beside the table.
All it took was one untied shoelace
and all I remember is a symphony of tiny cars
clinging and clanging
and four year old me
falling face first into the tile
As the PB&J propelled forward
smearing brownish, purple goop.

The crack where your left shoulder
might touch if you leaned back.
I honestly don't even know what it's from.
Maybe an argument that got too heated?
Or simple ware and tear over the years?
I never asked. 
I’ll never know.

This chair brings me both
comfort and pain.
Comfort when I sit after a long day on my feet.
Pain when I walk by and stub my toe unexpectedly.
Comfort when I remember all the times he held me in it.
And pain when I remember he will never hold me again.
By Lindsay Johnson
 Oct 2017 Sandra Lee
Lindsay
Finding a lover is effortless
for some people.
They only want a few things:
Someone attractive, kind,
funny or rich.

But
I desire
something so much deeper.

I want

an intelligent mind
that wakes up thoughts in me
I didn't realize were hibernating.

I want

to converse, analyze and debate
without being conscious of
the sun rising and falling
between our words.

I want

to make a witty remark
at a coffee shop
so he can reply sarcastically
just for me to jab back immediately
and for him to comeback back playfully
until we're both laughing
stomachs shaking
spit flying
the whole store staring
and we leave
without coffee

I want

our hands to stitch together
perfectly
like two lost puzzle pieces;
one found under a couch cushion
one found inside a junk drawer.
The rest of the puzzle has
already been thrown away
but
these two pieces remain
and they fit.

I want

to fall in love together
then together fall in love with
art, museums, songs, poems
T.V shows, radio jingles,
greek food, backroads,
our mutual hatred for pop culture,
doing the dishes (as long as he washes and I dry)
wrong turns, piled up laundry, life.
Just fall in love with life.

I want

to hurt with him

I want

to save the world with him

I want

to meet, see, understand
and experience all that is foreign
with him.

I think it will only take us meeting
and it'll only be history and happiness from then on.

It's just a matter of if a love like that could ever be
and if a love like that could ever be for me.
 Oct 2017 Sandra Lee
Elrow Swift
You who goes by "Lonely"
Yes you, who reads these rhymes
Please pause here for a moment
I won't take much of your time

You see my friend, I'm lonely too
In the dark with paper and pen
So I'm writing you this poem
and signing it "Your Friend"

Though I'll prob'ly never see you
nor ever know your name
I do not need to see your face
nor know your cash and fame

I do not care what color you are
how short or tall or fat
I'm weary of all these parties and creeds
So, for a moment, forget all of that

Yes you, dear friend, forget with me
Inhale this moment serene
where we are not opinions or castes
Just two humans with two glowing screens

Be human with me, simple and pure
For a moment breathe deep and feel free
then should you have the time, and a halfway good rhyme
Perhaps write a poem for me.

Signed,
Your Friend
This one isn't great, but I don't really care. I would normally throw something like this away, but the afterimage of hope made me wonder if maybe it would strike a chord with someone somewhere.  I promise to post more polished verse in the future, but all the same, thank you for reading. -ES
 Oct 2017 Sandra Lee
Victoria
"I love you"
"I Hate you"
Really though they are the same
The more you HATE
The more you show how much you care
The more you LOVE
The more you're open to despair
"I love you..."
"I love you...."
"I LOVE YOU....."
Like I'm pleading for you to need me
Like I need you to want me
Your attention is all I want
Your touch is all I need
I scream in my own head over & over
And it's so good!
Until
I can't take this anymore
Until
Maybe I don't want you to need me
Until
Please stop touching me
Until
Why are we still doing this
Until
"I hate you"
EVERY thing about you makes me mad
Your hair
Your eyes
The way you speak like you KNOW everything
News flash
You don't
"I hate you"
The way you walk
The soft skin you have
The way you held me
"I hate you"
That you made me feel
That you left
That you're not here
"I HATE YOU"
Not just Because loving you got So hard
But because
Hating you made me realize
How much 'I still love you"
 Oct 2017 Sandra Lee
h m w
He smiled at me and said 'here, take this'

It was a happy little pill of his and it would feel bliss

I smiled and gave him a kiss saying, 'thank you baby'

But what happened next forever will drive me crazy

Next thing you know I was spinning in my head

Then he wanted to bring me to a bed

His friends walked in and wanted more

So they all called me a ‘***** little *****’

My body was numb and I couldn’t move

I let out a scream but they didn’t approve

Everything went black but then again I woke

But to them it was nothing but a funny little joke

They locked me inside of a walk in closet

So if there was a stir I sure wouldn’t cause it

I blacked out again and woke in a different place

Treating me as if my soul were missing and my body were a case

Still I was unable to move nor speak

But he still said he loved me and kissed me on the cheek

I counted five inhumane beings on top of me moaning

One was even playfully groaning

I was disgusted and wanted it to end

But I knew that after this my mind would never mend

By now it would have been a little past three in the morning

Earlier I should have taken that adorable face as a warning

When they realized I was sobering up

They had an alibi saying they’d call this a hookup

When I could finally move my mouth again

I realized what had happened and felt heavy chest pain

They heard that I was muttering words that were incomprehensible

They saw me as nothing more than a body and that I was dispensable

They came up with a plan to hide my body in a ditch

I even heard one say, 'she deserved it, what a stupid *****'

I hit my head when they threw me on the ground

I only saw black in front of me and around

I woke up to a woman asking if I were okay

I only said one phrase and it was that 'I was betrayed'

What happened after that is irrelevant at best

All I will say is that I was nothing but stressed

This is my story and it happened two years ago today

Nailing an image in my mind that I was a targeted prey

I know now that I hold so much more worth

And I love myself more than anything on this Earth

Just know that these words have come straight from my heart

No matter how vile and disgusting this memory is, I can never restart

So I tried to make it a poem so it seems like some kind of art.

h.m.w
I am a ****** assault victim and I never received justice.
 Sep 2017 Sandra Lee
Cné
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. This becomes more evident as we grow older. What we once may have thought was a work of art, now because of age has fallen apart. When we started out we might have looked like a Michelangelo, but in the end I fear that we shall all become Picasso's.

Written by James M Vines
James wrote this little rhyme for me. And I had to share!
Thank you, James!
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