Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jess B Nov 3
I  did that for you
...didn't I?

yet now,
I feel empty

If I offered my gift
did I take it from me?

Tell me

What really is


Where does it reside?

Can it be captured?



will it always
at random
dry the well?

Who is this for?

and is it needed?

Some days like

but others feel
James Rives Jul 15
her words snap me back to reality,
away from supposition and hypotheticals,
into her arms where I feel safe.

blue eyes that pierce whatever darkness
i thought i had and lied to myself about,
eyes that see me for a who I am and who I want to be.

imagine walking down a darkened path,
content in the streetlights that guided
you home, and spotting something small
and kind. whatever it is you imagine,
it beckons you to hold it and when you do,
you smile, truly and impulsively.

that essence is a woman, and one i admire.
someone beatiful, kind, and funny,
including her incessant snoring on
already sleepless nights because a cat is begging for food but you feeling comfort
in their REM cycle. too little space
to be your own, but enough heart to bridge the gap.

imagine, then, that someone places
your hand on their lap when you drive,
but are equally willing to do the same,
in what feels like an equivalent exchange
of heart and sheer goofiness.

and tell yourself it doesn't feel right
that you were able to find home in them,
effortlessly and happily. you won't
and can't, and neither can i.

words can't express that she has been
friend, confidant, and a visual marvel,
and someone i envision as a pillar
of my bright existence.
I heard three words today,
Words I never knew were true.
The words that made me smile,
Which were I love you.

I had been knocked down,
Time and time again.
I never knew this would happen,
Until our lives together began.

You gave me hope again,
And showed me what to do.
Sometimes all you need is someone,
To hold you close and say

        I Love You <3
Donna Oct 2022
Don’t worry my love
I can’t take your pain away
But I’ll hold your hand


(Dedicated to my lovely husband the love of my life)
My husband has osteoarthritis in his knee and a pulled ligament in his other knee his in so much pain but his a fighter and a warrior as everyday he still goes to work even though his in awful pain , I feel frustrated at times cause i cannot take his pain away but will always support him and help him as much as I can *** True Love Always is a phase me & my husband have used since the day we met and over the years our true love always as grown and grown so big it’s truly True love always **
Ann M Johnson Jul 2022
I think that I want to plant a garden in life
I want to start with lettuce; lettuce be helpful
lettuce be kind,
lettuce be thoughtful, I hope you don't mind.
This garden I plan to share and you can join me if you care
Keep in mind that we need to ****: **** out anger,
**** out strife that threatens to choke out our delicate plants
Next, maybe we can try some squash out prejudice, squash out greed, and help
those in need. It doesn't always take money to lend a helping hand. Just lend a listening ear or any special way only you can, and perhaps we will all grow in a more peaceful land.
Maybe if we all work as one it will matter to many people and they too will help us plant this garden, And don't forget the water which joins us together in this garden of life, For the water is love.
I hope to meet you in the garden, there is always room for more understanding and together we can discover what great things this garden can bring.
Humans love their pets,
In many different ways,
Building a bond that is strong,
Until either one dies, no matter how long.
People remember the good happy times,
With their pets, bragging every day,
They can make a mess in the house,
Their humans clean it up,
Forgotten, in a fast way,
Why can’t humans treat each other the same way,
If the toilet seat is left up, easy to put down,
From some, you hear complaining for days.

The original: Tom Maxwell© 3/6/22 AD
1:46 pm
Carlo C Gomez Jul 2022
"memory runs back farther than mythology."

two years,
two months,
and two days,

in a cabin they built
near Walden Pond.

on a mission of gravity,
the heavens forming a spotlight
on centrifugal force,
abroad the hollow mind,

chronically untethered.

"I went to the woods to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms..."

this ship's captain was an architect,
but her starblazing failed
to break ground,
so this life is now a structure settled upon sand,

and way out yonder,
where there is
no blade of grass,
just weeds growing out from under the floor.

but her daughters are
grinning magnets,
passionate machines.

"copy that?...," asks Houston.

she takes a long, hard swallow,
the shadow of a bell
inspiring the astronaut in her
to shoot for incapable stars,
but the bell she hears now
is that of an alarm clock
telling her it's time to wake up:

shoulders straight.
hands free.
arms strong.
fingers stiff.
chronically untethered.

she's not looking for new days,
she is a new day,
compacted out of water,
tired of changing real estate
and showering with
other people's success.

those loud kids, her kids, play
down the hall, in the beehive.

radio jargon's on full blast too
and telling her where
to buy and sell today's instant pleasure.

she's busy now with self-stimulation,
Betty Dodson Method,
then mixing orange powder
with 100 year old whiskey
kept in the lunar module:

it's a spacewalk to eternity, faster-than-light:

she sees broken pool tables
and backyard swings.

she sees 'ordinary'
checked off on the calendar.

she sees 'happiness'
hiding in an old photo of Murphy's Camp.

she wakes to
her husband, Houston,
in a holding pattern,
she feels him moving, whispering,
and touching something
far off inside of her,
but not moored
in a specific time or place.

in search of where
she now exists
(if she even existed at all),
her memories feel artificial
in that she lacks
the emotional attachment
that comes with
actually having lived them.

there are no answers, no choices.
only reactions.
it is always going to be
that broken state of things:
these days of heaven,
chronically untethered.

"only that day dawns to which I'm awake. there is more day to dawn, I suppose. and like us, the sun is but a morning star upon being dreamed into existence..."
Koinophobia [key-noh-FOH-bee-uh]: the fear that you've lived an ordinary life.
Keiya Tasire Dec 2021
It doesn't matter
What he, she, or they say!

It does not matter
If they care or do not care.

For not anywhere
Will it matter !

Even in the eternal
Scheme of things!

Only that we get to forgive -n- forget
That is what really matters!
Think about your anger. Does all that we get upset about really worth the toll on our lives that it takes. The cancer, the high blood pressure, the shot nerves we ened up with. Is it worth it? Or does it really matter?
Nicoline Fougner Dec 2021
What better human quality than generosity?
They say sharing is caring, who could disagree?
Sharing bread, sharing bed, sharing deep intimacy
Sharing souls, sharing hearts, sharing vulnerability  

But a world without sharing is a world that stopped caring
Without care, love will fade and cause lack of compassion
Division of humankind, is what causes war of nations
Borders are border line, they impede freedom of roaming  

Don’t you think it’s absurd how people will decide
How much they’ll share with you,
How much they’ll care for you
Depending on where you’re born or you reside

Whilst the truth is that we share - the same entire planet
Borders caused our division - and used us all as puppets
To get richer and be better than those outside our borders
Made us greedy, made us needy to increase our own possessions

Some might think sharing means - losing parts of what is yours
But where true love persists - all that is mine is also yours
Sharing doesn’t halve happiness; you’ll see it multiplies it
Possession is what grows greed and the bad weeds that surround it
Cerasium Dec 2021
I don’t get how some people
Can shut off their feelings
And act like they never cared
For the person they claimed to love

It baffles me to no end
And causes me to wonder
Did they even love at all
Did they actually care

It takes me months
Sometimes even years
To get over someone
And I’m never truly over them

There’s always a piece of love
Still lingering for that person
That simple spark of compassion
That hopes they are doing okay

I get flashbacks of events
And feel how I felt in those moments
The feelings I had for them
Come back just as strong

Even seeing the person
Can bring them back in full
Making me question why
Why did things go wrong

What happened to the feelings they had
Where did they go that you grow so cold
How can I ever get to that point
Of finally not caring at all

I don’t know
Who is more broken
The one who cares forever
Or the one who doesn’t

All I can say
Is my own experience
And always caring
Is almost unbearable

You always question
Could it have gone a different way
Is it possible to start over
Or even fix what was broken

Is it okay to talk about
Is it okay to reach out
To see how they are
To worry about them

Caring for them
While they don’t
Causes so much fear
You can’t even reply

You hide away
Begging for it to end
Wishing that everything was different
Or that it was all just a dream

And when reality sets in
Your world begins to crumble
It’s the pain all over again
And then it’s just numb

You become a void
Feeling nothing at all
But it’s only temporary
Then the cycle repeats
Next page