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Jenni Mar 2015
I kept telling myself
That all I wanted
Was to feel your arms around me
But now I think
I've become addicted to your touch

My skin aches
My limbs shake
My heart quakes

For ****'s sake...

I never wanted to need you
I think I want a redo
It wasn't you but me who
****** it up this time

Next time I'll try harder
I swear
#d
Jenni Mar 2015
you seem like the sort of person i could tell things to
that I might have never told anyone else.
how sometimes i feel like i'm drowning
and maybe that's why i'm afraid of the ocean.
how the song disorder sounds like the night
and how it makes me feel alive and dead at the same time.
i go to concerts so that the bass can keep my heart beating.
sometimes i lay awake for hours staring at my laptop
feeling numb and empty
and sometimes i wish someone would hold me until
i feel whole again.
i think i would be okay if that person were you.
you've always been so kind to me
in a way that makes me feel uncomfortable.
i don't know what to do with kindness.
maybe you could help me.
i'm not good at feeling things.
sometimes i feel nothing
and sometimes i feel everything
but my feelings for you always made sense
in a way that the others didn't.
i'm bad at talking
let's just drive.
the night air makes me feel alive and free.
i love the way the world looks lit up
and the reflections of street lamps and flickering neon shop signs
and the way their light paints our faces.
you looked at me so gently that night before you left.
i pretend to know the words that were frozen on your lips
and i go to sleep with my heart keeping time with joy division bass lines.
it's 4:27am and i miss you
this is more of  diary entry than a poem but i didn't know where else to put it
#d
Jenni Apr 2015
Serendipity.
Not to be confused
With Serenity.
Because I'm anything but serene
When I keep running into you.
Flustered
Panicked
Awkard as hell, sure.
Serene?
Not so much.

I have this strange idea
That we're like moths to flame.
Who's the moth
And who's the flame?
All I can say is that I thrive in night
And you always created your own light.

I'm afraid to touch you.
I'm afraid to burn.
But I'm smoldering inside
And it's starting to hurt.

My wings were careless.
I got too close.

Alight

Ablaze

It's alright

Your gaze

Will be the last thing I see.
That's good enough for me.
#d
Tatiana Jan 2015
They like to send you mean and harsh messages
and then they don't even stick around for the aftermath,
because they are not strong,
they are not respected,
or respectful.
But, they believe that by hurting others,
they will have their power.
But this silly coward
doesn't quite understand how I respond
to people like him.
I see this as a challenge,
as a game.
But since he refuses to show his face,
it tells me all I need to know.

I don't think this coward
is prepared to get played.

*To be continued...
I will not share the message that got me started, but I do think that he has blocked me within minutes of sending me an awful message.  But if that's the way he's going to be, then I should be allowed to express this frustration and anger.
eye say ahhhh Jan 2015
MTA
The option of life is hard
To keep on and on without an end
I watch the train arrive and go
I ask myself is this the one
What burden bothers the conductor
Could I stop this train in time
Will he try to die tonight
I've contemplated everyday
The pros the cons
But anyway
shosho Rea Jan 2015
Just by reading your words I immediately feel the pain you're going through.
Its probably empathy but I'd like to believe its more than that.
The pattern of your words synchronize with your pain, tears and sweat to create a beauty of words.
Your pain is painful but surely beautiful to me...
I'm sorry for your pain.
I'm a stranger but I would give a thousand bits of my happiness to make you smile because the person that hurt you is an *******.
Go ahead and tell them a random writer said that and if they try something just tell them my eyes change colour in the morning and night, surely that'll scare them.
You're an amazing person and I bet you that one day all this pain will be worth it.
But in the meantime can I just say you're awesometastic.
They do change colour though. Plus you're awesometastic. Not really a poem.
unnamed Dec 2014
A True Mother's Love by Patarica D. Nunn
A mother's love is consistent
and patient, it will never fade.
A True Mother's Love by Patarica D. Nunn
A mother's love is consistent
and patient, it will never fade.
D5
It bothers me so:
My voice cannot reach that high.
I want to awe them,
But I can barely reach D;
So don't laugh now when I squeak.
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