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This story that began with hope I hope will end with hope
Feels hopeless
I gave up looking for answers, now I hope to find a way to cope
Denied access
The last ounce of hope left left when I decided to revisit dope
Again, I retrogress
This cat and mouse between hope and despair is an exhausting trope
I'm breathless
Dark thoughts fill the space left by hope, time to hide the rope
Chased by darkness
I don't even know exactly what sparked this
But I'm sure to end up heartless regardless
That's just me being honest

I saw the time in your eyes,
that had me pause my breath like a stopwatch,
As if the feelings were a crime, that had
me caught out with what all it had got.
Cos when love had robbed my heart;
I grew impatient to go and call the cops.

Or was it me being impaired,
to humbly assume we could have made a perfect pair?
For the chorus of kisses subtly convinced every troubled
thought, dancing carelessly on top of my hair.
I could have been trying to force fit a puzzle piece, but it
only cuts me into pieces, realizing it was all a jigsaw.
And to nobody’s own prediction, “a shoot your shot
could prove to be so lethal.

Three stanzas; a standard for a quick understanding;
Accepting what’s current; a love of passion quickly
turning out so passive— a casual happening.
A cold turn, in the direction of a quicken head,
turning to have a glimpse of you as much.
But for this time, after having the taste of another broken
heart, I’ll put a stop to that broken stopwatch.
Somewhere drifting off my
Dreams it seems of mind
A sense of reality out of touch
To touch I find mind
A sense of love of gay
For which I always lived
A for and loved much
A chance of time I lost
What known now not have
I lift out of knowing what luck
Upon such shucks as
To know this to past
I love found after all
To know life last.
pierrot Mar 17
i wonder why i keep looking for love
in all the places i know i will not find it
maybe it is not one last prayer to be wrong
but rather resentful surrender
that i was right all along
if i prove to myself that love does not exist
by forcing myself into loveless places
maybe knowing i never got any of it
will hurt a little less
not my best piece nor one i particularly like just a lil vent to be honest
selina Feb 28
passports, abstracts, and cigarettes
i swear it was all just for the aesthetics
thin walls, smoke screens, and window tints
we crawled through one just for the hell of it

it's nineteen and nose rings, i got asked for an id
we're twenty-one in jersey, you like my con artistry
i borrowed a street sign and failed to book an uber ride
everything is so much messier than i would've liked

i tired of people pleasing, and you never reply
we don't really need to talk about it
i try my best to not really think about it
said that i'm conceited, hedonistic, manipulative

but some nights i just want to drink until i start to lie
see, if coping was a job and paid an hourly wage
i'd be working overtime, id have a career drive
and i'd be a millionaire after six shots, or maybe five
more about the messiness
Mrs Timetable Jan 20
Not everything
Got some boo-boos this week
Humble Dec 2023
Once dubbed 'number two,' a label, a haunting echo, a constant reminder,
From a third year’s Scrabble match that left me second best, the genesis of a nickname I hated.

The bitter taste of second place, a memory stark,
A reminder of striving, of yearning, yet falling short.
Averse to the shadow of 'not quite,' 'almost there, but...'

It's funny how being second haunted me,
Always striving to escape my past and secrets.
I've hidden the truth about my family,
A split that's more than what the world knows, I’ve always been ‘the secret child’
A narrative whispered, diluted, for ears unacquainted.
Universe never seize to mock me with it.

Contemplating the roads I could have paved better,
Guarding what was precious, fortifying with fervor,
I’m here , pondering the 'what ifs' and 'maybes,'
A lament for the present, with heavy eyes and teary-eyes. Regrets linger for not trying harder.

Three years invested, hopes were shattered,
I don't blame you for trying to rebuild, giving it another try.
Instead, I blame fate, the ‘Universe’ A relentless orchestrator, marking me perennially 'two,'
Even when love briefly eased the burden.

Now, in the quiet of night, in sorrow's embrace I write,
Words once sweet now tinged with pain,.
I've been through a rollercoaster of emotions,

For days now, you’ve witnessed my descent and ascent, I blamed you, I tried being strong, became a wreck, got drunk to prove a point, isolated , sought validation from internet, found myself overwhelmed by the attention and tried to convince everyone ‘I’m fine’,  I felt numb.
Right now I’m just a shattered soul seeking solace in poetry’s embrace.
Every emotion, a verse, every thought, a line inscribed, writing seems to be my only solace.

To the boy I loved and wanted to give it all to, I’m thinking of you and I just want you to always be happy, being second doesn’t mean I can’t still be your number one cheerleader.
We always thought alike and wanted the same things; I do not wish to hate you as you don’t want it too.
I want to keep you as much as you want to do with me ,
Let's move past this, erase the awkwardness,
Let not animosity tarnish what affection once graced,
I hope we can salvage our friendship soon.
Chelsea Quigley Nov 2023
I live
In false reality,
So they say.
A world of 'nonsense'
And 'immature play'.

A world where one
Cannot be torn.
No heart to break,
Nobody to mourn.

For here I lay
On my bed,
To breathe.
Creating a creation,
Only known to me.

As Stars and moon
Begin to shine.
Through world of wonder,
That is only mine.

And this little truth,
Is truly divine.
This poem is solely about the truths of Maladaptive daydreaming, to escape the reality of life to enter your own. Please do enjoy!
why is love such a difficult task
hard to capture
harder to grasp
it calls to you from a lover once yours
as you aimlessly stare from your silence
on these shores
how did it fade into something routine
yet hollow your heart
when it
lots of questions - rarely answers
Philomena Nov 2023
I am going through it. It’s going through me. It’s breaking hope and bones as it passes. Taking the last of me. I cry more than I speak these days. The devil has been fighting for my light since I could remember. Daddy would pick up the bottle and I’d see him real clear. Smiling at my pain and whispering in my ear. In my little room full of fear wishing God would appear.  Some days he’d come disguised as my mother but most days I just moved to his rhythm. Angels would ask to cut in here and there but we could never quite figure out our rhythm. I’m too much light to belong with the devil but not enough light to go without dimming heaven.
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