Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
I woke up today feeling brand new
Seven years of hell
That you put me through
Today marks that day
Today i am new
No longer cursed by you

Today i would usually wake up
Feeling your hands on my skin
Behind my back
Like a heart attack
The torture
The fear
The guilt
The tears

This time
I'm new
This time I'm over you
My cells have changed
I am not the same
I'm stronger now
I'm no longer lost
But found

I'll never hit the ground
Screaming your name again
I'll still feel the pain
Behind my brain
Never in my skin
Never in my bed
You,
                          I have shed
Forever you are dead
And I am free
I can feel it in my body~
They say after seven years your cells have changed so that man never touched my body now. I am free
First froze the 𝘌𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘩,
When the 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘵 climbed too far.

Then was it scalded,
When the ¹horses came too close.

Of course,
Most people eschew mythology & learn only from reduced histories.

Similar situations such as this,
Like Climate Change,
We have lived through before as a species.
That much is plainly obvious.

The kicker is,
At least with what's left of those records,
There is an implication it was also from us.
From how ancestors of our treated Earth's ecology.

But also,
How the universe treated us.
1 - Likely a reference to an increase in electromagnetic phenomenon, such as solar flares or gamma ray bursts.
He told me Humanity would never change.
"Not quite," said to him,
"Eventually he will, even if it's not his aim,
for everything passes after so long an age."

I watched him crawl and watched him walk
I watched him learn and watched him try
I watched him speak and talk,
And all the while, time went by.

And when he had gained enough of the experience
He was greedy, he was covetous,
He was selfish and he was mischievous
And still he lied in the right tense.

And through the aeons, I've seen seeds sprout
And seen their seedlings develop bark
And the deep waters turn within and without
And still inside the ground it remained dark.

Whatever and whoever there was, he stole and killed
Without regret, remorse, grief or pains.
For life's simplest personal gains,
He destroyed what had been built.

And all the while, I, Immortal Beholder,
Have come to know that Humanity will never change,
Have come to see what he really is;
A thing inalterable even by age!
Aahoc 5d
There once was a day when we both wore stripes
Distinct lines that undeniably connected us to each other.
Mine had already shifted to black.
Yours were still a light gray –
Soft and subtle.

Now I watch you stand on your own.
Head held high with understated confidence.
Be it sincere or feigned,
doesn't matter.
You're clad in plaid –
Infused with the stripes and lines embracing you all around as contributing designers silently admire in awe.

The black tee underneath —
the closest visible cloth to your heart —
pulls it all together.
You keep it concealed and dear,
Yet show enough to share.
Constant reminder.
We all know it's the reason we're here.

There will come a day
When your whole ensemble is painted
With every hue and shape imaginable.
The influences of past, present, and future
All melded into one stunning garment -
The monarch knows no such splendor.

Soon enough, the black tee will be cast to the side and long forgotten -
Inevitably replaced with an everlasting warm embrace.

Never again will I hear you say,
"I hate change."
Did you hear about the stark raven?
A conspiracy they got to know.
Heard of the lonely crow?
****** killed what was alone.
The orphan doe?
A stag that grew antlers.
Hog runt of the litter?
Boar of the bog - grew tusks & got a bit bigger.
The tiniest elephant?
Trunk like a trumpet, ivory like horns.
The smallest hummingbird?
Sharp as a dragon in precision, quick as a griffin.
As for the prairie dog?
Town; coteries & clans a̲r̲e̲ the wards.
Of the marmot?
A burrow whispers of whistles.
The tortoise galápagos?
Variability shines spectrums of different rays -
Amid waves, like amber will age.
The Axolotl?
Regenerative & able to metamorph -
Like a phoenix.

Adaptation is their wisdom.
Emric Arthur Jul 24
We needed some space,
So we got a massive bed.
“Where'd you go?”she said
Vazago d Vile Jul 23
I used to hold truth
like a weapon —
sharp, clean, final.

But now it moves.

Not like a lie,
not like denial —
but like a tide
that’s been waiting for me
to grow strong enough
to swim deeper.

What I swore was solid,
now trembles in my hands.
Not because it was false —
but because I’ve changed.

And now I fear
not the truth itself,
but the way
it keeps becoming.
This one came out of nowhere, like most real things do.
I used to think truth was something you held — solid, fixed.
Now I know it’s something that moves with you, or it breaks you.
I wrote this for anyone who’s ever looked at their past, their love, or their own reflection… and felt it tremble, not because it was false, but because they’ve changed.
Weighed tons as I walked stuck with it, the glue.
It was dyed blue, I must be well but can anyone cure this chronic flu?
No medicine there to fill that void like affection do.
I want to break the cycle of having no clue,
From this stuck pattern, turning it into geranium from that past navy blue.
Diving deep in the pond of the sub-consciousness
I die every night, you die every night too
This is our way of rejuvenating the body
This may sound crazy, eerily or even spooky,
However, this is absolutely or definitely true
Our body makes a special trip to correct the mess
Which takes place from a certain time to the other
We die every night to pay a visit to another crater.

We pass every night, if we're blessed, fortunate or lucky
We return to our natural living state, feeling rested
God in his divine and genial way created us that way
That's a given, we have no alternative; no other way
To change things. Sleep deep tonight, die slowly and lightly
Hoping that we'll wake-up the next hours alive and resuscitated.

Drowning in a slow sleep is a gift, die a little tonight
God will not keep us. This is wonderful; this is out of sight.

Copyright © August 26, 2016 Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
xia Jul 23
I'm scared,
Change makes me want to die.
Nostalgia, the enemy,
Needles to flesh
Won't let me forget.
I can't stop crying.
I don't know why.
Or maybe I do.
Acknowledgment
Means it's real.
We're growing apart.
But have you noticed?
I hope I don't have to lose you
Too.
why must we grow distant?
Next page