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No one cared until I started holding a pencil
until I started writing
let's call them poems

Did writing make people actually care about me?
Or did it just make them curious enough to ask about me?

Do they like my writing?
Or do they like how I can describe things in ways they can't?

Has this pencil brought me closer to people?
Has it made them finally see me?

Questions start to occur
every time I hold this pencil of mine

questions question question
so many questions
and not enough answers

If you ask me to speak my feelings
I will not be able to utter a word
I will not be able to form a comprehensive sentence
However
Give me a pencil
and I will express... gladly
Whether through writing or drawing

I suppose I owe a lot to my pencil
You might see it as a wood that leaves mark on papers
but to me
It's a whole world,
a world that I'm eager to explore

Thank you pencil
Thank you for being there for me
when my tongue isn't
Thank you for speaking up for me
Thank you for being my voice
I am new at this, new to writing but I love it! I love the feeling it gives me. Hopefully I can become a good writer some day. These are my beginnings so bear with me y'all :)
Arturo Hernandez Jul 2014
I felt its power,
And it's resonance,

Vibrance.
It's eerie dissonance
Came forward, closer,

Wavering,
Twisting my heaving heart.
Invocation May 2014
but the hole in my lungs is draining
my air into the the sky, plugging
it with all this nicotine is utterly
useless. i do it often enough
to know. bleeding eyes
stare at your face, or
what i can see of it
on the screen, I
guess. will you
come for me?

take that it any way you prefer.
( i meant it in every way possible)

replay the music
i can't fall, not without a soundtrack
hands sting from skinless remarks
shuffling sideways to avoid
blatant attraction
words spilled from the side of
a half-closed mouth
that never fully closes

I would bleed for you if you asked me to
i would rather you kept me from losing everything.
we could be sheep in the fields forever
sunlight and waving golden faces, old rain
on the trees slipping down to remind the dry hands

lay with me in the grass, but don't get wet
we can do that later
Hello.
Leah May 2014
Writing poetry has changed me a lot
since i became a subject of the material,
and my words are more fixed and flawed
than myself.

They flow from line to rhyme,
stabbing me into the heart
a hundred pages of thoughts
is spinning so fast
that i can barely catch any of it
if it really means
a lot to me.

It is as to flood me into downpour with it
from the Sun
yet the typical look reflected on a mirror
reminds me of who i really was
and nothing can be re-written from a history.

No roses can blossom without a rain, they said,
like they babbles up themselves to say
in front of enemies
that every petals are new-born warriors
and
the rest of  the past was the biggest blur
as if they were dropped directly into
a wrong time, at a wrong place,
like it's made by fairy tales.
AmberLynne Apr 2014
The whisper of my skin as it crosses yours
The sigh deep within as I nestle up to your side,
       trying to get closer than is even possible...
A kiss, gently settled upon my forehead,
       a gift left there, forever branded on my skin.

I take none of these moments for granted,
     but savor each of them,
                           draw them in,
                                        taste them,
Swirl their essence around like the finest of wines.
And as I nuzzle ever closer,
                                               forever closer,
I look up into your eyes,
knowing with certainty that I have found peace
                         in the whispers between our skin.
2.23.14
AmberLynne Apr 2014
I snuggle up closer,
                      ever closer,
trying to close the centimeters 
between our bodies,
Breathing in your energy,
Let me sink into the essence of you.
4.6.14
Not sure if I should name this "Ever Closer" or "Centimeters?"
pluie d'été Mar 2014
i want my window
to pull me closer
keep me cool
with it's breeze
but it can't
because if it did
i would be even warmer

— The End —