Hello Poetry is a poetry community that raises money by advertising to passing readers like yourself.

If you're into poetry and meeting other poets, join the community to remove ads and share your poetry. It's totally free.
Did you know?
That greatest couple
Ever left for alive
Are estranged in the sky?
Barely glancing, never seeing
They're now just a hint
A reflection within the other's eyes

Although, back in their more youthful days
Oh boy, oh boy, were they alive
Burning with passion and cooling with shade
Ever imprinting looks on each other's minds

But now only shade is ever thrown at the shine
Because the two original lovers are estranged in the sky
And ostracized to a life on high
The moon said "I love you" and all the sun could say was "I know"
I saw you liked an insta post on
something that I might have done long ago
and you even commented on it and now I don't know
if you're annoyed with me or if you want me to go
but I'm already far away and each and every day
I've been staring at the wall for all the hours I'm awake
you're occupied with your school work
trying to pass the time
and I can't even write you a song because my
poems rarely rhyme.
I keep wondering if I did something to make you not like me
but it's kinda hard to fuck things up when all I do is sleep.
I know it's my anxiety that makes me feel like this
but just this afternoon I wrote a paper about your kiss
it's probably a piece of shit that never could compare to
the way you make me feel, I could never even dare
to try to put exactly what you mean to me into words
and I'm sorry that I'm paranoid
I think I'm getting worse.
I feel really ill
Emma 3d
Don’t pick apart what I feel for you.
No, there has never been anyone before you.
But, I am not an emotional cripple.
I know myself, and my mind.
Am capable of recognising what it is I feel.
Love you. Kind of. Maybe. By half.
I am on the way to love, at least.
You vacillate in the doldrums, a land of grey uncertainty, rather than travelling in either direction.
I’ll wait. Not forever.
It’s like having a part of my body outside of itself.
Vulnerable and full of the absence of something divided.
Something that was previously mine given to you.
I knew love would be hard when it came.
Not this sad, or this sort of hard.
I expected modest love, and humdrum hard.
This is like being the wife of a sailor gone out to sea.  
Interminable longing and painful waiting.
My heart pulls in my chest, the steady drumbeat too loud, loud enough to feel in my fingers, feel in my legs.
It tightens in discomfort, and sends me spiralling.
I wish I could hold you.
I wish I could heal you.
But neither is possible without you.
And I’m still waiting.
We share a bond,
and poetries and songs in the spaces between.
We love ice cream,
and the conversations that come with it.
We dance,
and pour our hearts out into the lyrics.
We share hugs,
and giggle through those bedtime stories.
We steal kisses,
and some untold stories that peep through those peals of laughter between the drinks.
We gossip,
as if no one's watching.
We cry,
while watching movies and pamper each other after finishing.
We live in different cities,
and still, never miss a call a day whether it's for just five minutes or fifty.
We miss each other,
and write letters about it.
The distance feels really unread between us.
Maybe, that's why we're just best friends and not lovers.
Amira 3d
I thought I understood distance
When my maths teacher defined it as
“The amount of space between two points.”
He taught me distance can be measured in various units
As steps, kilometres and miles
or even intervals of time.

I thought I understood distance
When I counted 2362 steps walking to school
And noticed my dad’s car meter increasing two miles
In three minutes driving me back home.

I travelled a distance measured in kilometres and hours to see him.
Such distances can be easily crossed.
Either I took the next train, or drove my car
Distance as an amount of space was two thousand kilometres
And distance as an amount of time was only a few hours.

I thought I understood distance,
But never the amount of space between two specific points;
My lips and his lips.

I travelled a distance measured in bottles of wine and years to kiss him.
Such distances can’t be easily crossed.
I could walk miles of skin
And distance as an amount of space between us
Could extend tiresome.
But such distances aren’t necessarily a barrier.
I have crossed all the oceans we created
I counted all the bodies
And I have indulged in his lips.

It took me two bottles of wine and twenty years
To understand distance

But my understanding is obsolete
For him and I ,
Are still two distant entities.
I started writing this poem with great inspiration, but the inspiration wore off halfway through, which is why I still feel it is not complete. Please tell me what you think, and what you would suggest.
P.S : the poem is written to be read in a loud and slow manner.
Jedda 4d
Why would I let you touch me
The inner most parts of my being

Why would I let you touch me
Run your fingertips along my thoughts

Why would I let you touch me
Smooth hands across my feelings

Why would I let you touch me
Wondering eyes between my mind

Why would I let you touch me
Heavy breaths over my soul

Why would I let you touch me
Tasting this pain within

Why would I let you touch me
For I am poison
Why would I let you touch me?
little 5d
He fell asleep on my floor
The air is different for me

He opened a door
And then a drawer
I grovel on your knees

Ladies and men
We like to pretend
The roles of who we please
alecia 5d
if we cannot feel
the luminous sunshine together,
let us stare into the night sky
and whisper to the moon,
spilling our secrets to her.
if we cannot stare
at cotton candy skies together,
let us grab the stars,
and create constellations of our own.
a short little love poem about my husband. i wrote this poem over a year ago. we were living apart while in an LDR. now we live happily together, and i am so thankful for him!
Rosie 7d
When we first said
I didn’t know
what it would grow into.

I didn’t know
your eyes would become my favorite
shade of blue
your laugh would become my favorite
scratchy old record
your arms would become my favorite
place to escape to.

When we first said
I didn’t know
that you would become
my hardest
Deemz Sep 12
Your silence is the only part of you that still speaks to me,
and when I can't hear your voice anymore,
the fog reveals the distances you aren't willing to travel,
what's the point of reaching out to someone who doesn't want to be reached?
Next page