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 Dec 2018 Steven L Herring
Jenny
the electricity runs through our veins
and past the street signs we rumble by
in the car you stole, we go fifty above the speed limit,
the roof of the car is the noir sky above
and the midnight rain pelts our upturned faces
the dancing drops of water drip onto our smiling lips
the sound of the sky collapsing
echoes the flashes that streak the sky,
the flickering light casts paved roads with a brief brightness
(as if god were wearing light up sketchers)
the lacy brallette that wears me
gives me the bravery to stand up in the speeding car
the velvet pants that ripple with the wind
drink up the nighttime rain
and the rare headlights race past us,
heading into homes and hearts
the mellow playlist that connects the aux cord to our ears blasts
so loud, we can no longer hear our insecurity
the mascara that once clung to my eyelashes
now streams down my face.
on a two way street,
we drive down the middle
unafraid in the face of direct dangers
so unaware of the towering empty skyscrapers
and instead highly exhilarated
from the street signs we drive by
too fast to read the blocky lettering
the road signs glint, smiling as we wave and reach towards them
the cigarettes you smoked are thrown through the open window,
still smothering slightly.
i can still taste the smoke on your lips
and your hand tucks my hair behind my ear
and as the wind objects and inhales
unreal in the hazy a.m. car trip
the tunnel rushes towards us,
and we both hold our breaths,
as if breathing would contaminate us.
the lights that glint, cast a yellow-white glow
and for once, i see you for who you are
a boy too buzzed to feel
a kid who only felt "sort of"
a person who couldn't heal
and a lover who could never give love
about a boy who was my living teenage dream // nothing scarier than finding a broken loveless boy who makes you the same
Lifes tragically hard
more things going wrong

Sometimes I do wonder
how sorrowful
the lyrics would be
if written as a song

A song of great love
friendship
contentment
and trust

Of passion
happiness
beauty
and
lust

Of illness  
tragedy
loneliness
and fear

Of anger
confusion
and heartbreak
over the one I hold dear

What sad lyrics they'd be
If my life with you
were a song
Life
My couch,
Is death,
And avoidance is a second language,
Ask me do I speak it?
Conjoined twins,
Of misery and manipulation,
No calls,
Only cushions and customer's custom complaints,
From tomorrow,
The phone wont ring,
So I'll stay down this road,
Listening to headlines and headlights
Sing,
Moody music dwelling,
Where the lies and shame met in between,
Cut the cue, end the scene

The stage has been rebuilt,
We talked like teenagers,
And you told me that I've changed,
But the same,
Still that same number,
No more gap,
But your smile still kills,
Pain with palendromes,
We were here before,
And so again we,
Our fighting saying goodnight,
Street lamps in different cities,
Static.

I'm just fine,
Playing my part,
My mainstream maybe different,
But
Obsession has been overcame,
By the rising tide of a smile,
If the teleprompting signs shine through,
Meanwhiles and meditations
What can I do,
Except hope I'm reading,
The
Right
Script,

The couch,
It asks,
Where have you been?
I set down another,
chip.
Kind of scattered
 Nov 2018 Steven L Herring
Elinor
I had my first dream last night that you weren't in.
not even a minor character,
your ****** name wasn't even in the credits,
let alone plastered across the sky in flashing lights
like you want it to be.
my first reality that you didn't belong in,
and it was the most blissful peace that I can remember since we bathed in pools of cloud.

I heard the first song that didn't make me think of you yesterday.
the lyrics, for once, were just lyrics,
not an embodiment of you and the things you do.
guess what?
it was coldplay.
you always hated coldplay.

this morning, I basked in the sun and didn't picture you coated in gold light beside me.
I didn't look at the leaves adorning the trees and picture your face laughing beneath it.

I didn't trace the plate lines of my palm and imagine the earthquake we used to create when yours collided with mine.

I didn't eat new food that I wanted you to try and I didn't want to share the smallest details of my day with you.

you may have won this poem, loverboy,
but don't be too triumphant.
your victory won't last long.
it's the era of my new beginnings without you and I'm going to be just fine.
never trust anyone who doesn't like coldplay.
You should never hate yourself.
You should never sit in a crowded room and feel lonely.
You should never feel abandoned in a group of friends.
You should never change yourself because of other people's opinions.
You should never think you are not enough.
Please don't hate yourself.
Please don't feel lonely.
Please don't feel like an outcast.
Please be yourself.
Please, you are enough.
Please.
If you ever think no one loves you,
just know that the King of kings, the Lord of lords, loves you so much.
But I know sometimes you will feel this way.
I understand, but maybe I don't.
Just, please.
Don't hurt yourself.
In any way.
Please.
heyoooo,
Well, you should never ever feel these way.
love yourself and stay true!

wow wow wow, i did not expect this to happen, but anyways, i really hope all of you are blessed and that this poem helped you!! God bless yall! truly humbled...
 Oct 2018 Steven L Herring
L B
I don't think about it any more
I take out the trash
noting
Sticks caught in the crotch of a tree
The wind does what the wind does
breaks weaker branches down
does not care where
it leaves
them
on its invisible way

Days do what the days do
they don't count themselves
worthy as they go
to release
the afternoon
to evening—
an artless
emptying
to a low spot
where tears tend to pool
if I'd let them down

“You know,
in that low spot
out there...?”
Where it's hard to see
Where its hard to care?

They take heart
out
divide it by energy
for sadness—
I haven't got

Watched the clock go round
wipe out my little plans
with relentless hands

...and I never got dressed today
6-12-18
 Oct 2018 Steven L Herring
pluto
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.
Hello?
Can you hear me?
I’m down here...
6 feet under...
Not where I’m suppose to be
You come and visit me
Everyday
I hear you constantly pray
To talk to me again
Hold my hand
Hug me tight
Well I’m right here
I hear everything you say
I cry with you
I laugh with you
I pray with you
I am always with you
Even from 6 feet under
I AM HERE
I pray myself
To heal your pain
Dry your eyes
Help you move on
Don’t forget me
You know where I am
Always in your heart
Forever your friend
I will continue to grow old with you
Until we meet again
When we walk together in the sky
Holding each others hands
For now I stay
6 feet underground
Loving you
Praying with you
Hearing your voice
As I lay in silence
6 feet underground...
Wrote this from the perspective of a person who has passed away and what they see and feel everyday....
i wrote you
a letter every day
letters to tell you
just how i feel

written in neat, curved
writing i told you
just how sweet
i thought you were
how you made my heart
glow

letters in which i wrote
with various colors of ink
pouring out my whole being
to you

i wrote you
a letter every day.

i wrote you letters in which
i told you how you made me
bloom.

eventually
i found myself
pressing harder on
the paper
than i had before.

creating tears in them
similar in shape
and size
as the ones
inside of me.

i began to send
letters
with creases
and bumps
and stains
splattered with tears

pouring
from my eyes

as i wrote
the anger
bubbling within me.

my last letter
addressed to you
contained
no words

but was blank.
because
i had none that

could reach
as far

and deep

into the cracks
of my
heart

to describe
just
what you

had left
of me.
a draft i decided to finish because it took a totally different turn than originally intended.
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