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You’re just a poem now.
Not a person.
Not a promise.
Not the boy who made my heart sit up straight
whenever you walked into the room.
Just a string of syllables I rearrange
when the silence gets too loud.

You’re just a poem now.
Not the ache in my ribs when you smirked
like we shared a secret,
not the heat in my cheeks
when your eyes said stay,
when mine said I already did.
You don’t get to be that anymore.

You’re just a poem now.
Lined up like lies in stanzas,
pinned to pages you’ll never read.
I turned your name into metaphor
so I could burn it without guilt.
I made you rhyme with mistake,
with heartbreak,
with "never again."

You’re just a poem now.
Tamed by ink,
softened by rhythm,
safe in the distance between
what we were
and what we’ll never be again.

You’re just a poem now.
And I?
I’m the poet.

I write.
I erase.
I move on.
Fission, fusion.
Derision after derision.
Creation, destruction.
Degredation after degredation.
Combination, seperation.
Decay after decay.

Fusion, fission.
Praise after praise.
Destruction, creation.
Amelioration after amelioration.
Splitting, collaboration.
Growth after growth.

I know only
That I know nothing!
27
27

Today I turn 27,
Finding myself not feeling anything,
Recovery is a bittersweet ending,
Sobriety but a lingering telling,
It took 27 lines of ******* drugs,
Not the kind you may think off,
The kind we are so addicted to,
27 lines of the purest lies,
27 lines of the finest mistreatment,
27 lines of the most mindfucking self harming,
27 lines of the most relaxing coping,
27 lines of the most euphoric settling,
It took 27 contracts,
To realize that in this tale as old as time ending,
Is never too late,
To rule over a queendom,
Abandoned by the heiress,
A queen of a lonely poetry,
Fading in the vision,
Chasing fantasies,
Never seeing the clock behind her,
27 years to wake up from a slumber,
A self given kiss,
The curse is broken,
27 years of harcore lines,
The ones that only make you realize,
Delusion is but a poisoned apple,
The side effects but a reflection of the hidden mirror,
For in the end, my world is but an illusion,
The same you wake up to,
An actress of everyone's delusions,
Never given a chance to envision,
The illustrations of a scripture,
A tale written by a lonely heiress,
One that welcomes,
Foes that see the vision,
Wolves wearing sheep linen,
Their masquerade no longer hidden,
27 years of ******* lines,
Rose pink sunglasses the sweetest red wine,
27 years of the finest lines,
Why was it so hard,
To see what was left behind,
A world that is only mine,
Looking, looking, and looking,
For a savior wearing armor and diamond,
Today I realize,
The heaviness in my heart,
Heaviness of armor I looked past,
I had been fighting a war,
To protect what is so precious and not far,
The vision of a lonely child,
Made to closer her eyes,
So she would never realize,
She was the one she was looking for,
Shameless for is never too late,
To open the gates of heaven inside.
Today is my 27th birthday, a fated rebirth of a war ridden woman worthy of the heaven that resides deep within, outward, below and above, heaven, earth, and hell. The battles to protect it are over, but the war to keep it alive is endless. on a less poetic note, I just want to remind everyone that is don't matter how old you are. for it is NEVER too late to realize that there is a heaven within you, it is so easy to believe in the hell we are all used to. why is it so hard for us to realize that heaven is not something waiting for us at the gates of our demise. but rather an experience we get to have here on earth. the law of duality reminds us that, good in our world, our lives is just as real as the evil we experience every second of our lives. for one needs the other to remain alive, give yourself flowers today. for doing so one day will encourage you to give flowers to the world, not from a place of lack, but from a place of overflowing abundance. I love you, if you got to read this.
We're mammals;
Walking, talking, thinking.
We're animals.
Upright, articulable, sophisticated.

Yet, we pay little respect,
Fret more then reflect;
For an ancestor we all share
And yet share more in neglect!

What long ways to have come
To have gone so little distance;
To be ever farther than before,
But to have done really so very little!

I talk about our planet!
I talk about all those who inhabit!
It's a rotten mess that's been made.
Each blemish, every scar, all the stains
Marked & soaked into each & every page!

Many great recessions & regressions,
Degradations & destructions-
That's what we offer everything.
But I digress from the apathy,
For it is better thought to think of change.

What beauty nature must have been,
Even understanding the difficulty
Of life prior to our modernity.
Years & years ago, hundreds & thousands,
When natural life was more abundant.

"When we were slaves to nature!"
"When all was bountiful & liberated!"
"When we were aching & starving!"
"When all was free & meritable!"

It's all perspective,
But are they all really mutually exclusive?
Like the popular philosophies of a moment
Fluctuating with the pass of time.

From good to bad,
Like stored food going spoiled.
From growth to decay,
Like rust on metal forming.

Yet, it's just change.
Yet, those are just oddities.
Everyday examples
Because of our lifestyles.

Those things exhibited being indicative
Of perspective on the nature of "change."
Good, bad.
It's by an individual basis.

Balance between any individual & its environment
Is essential for that individual to maintain.
At the same time, being a product of its environment,
To what magnitude, if any, does any individual actually have a responsibility to?

It's by an individual basis?
But every species is a part of,
In one way or another,
A collective of that species.
Their effects, how they affect,
Can be counted cumulative.

But it all sure is beautiful.
Midnight started going by Night when she turned twenty-five. She was “letting the tides guide.” Getting her chakras aligned. Drinking smoothies. Said it was a New Moon, ‘ya know? A blank slate. A fresh canvas. Said this would make her whole.

Maybe it’ll stick. Maybe this new dawn will be the last. Only Earth knows, of course. But I heard through the grapevine that Daylight’s been saying it’s just a phase.
late-night prose. my birthday is coming up. getting older is strange and beautiful.
Asher 6d
you
i think i found peace,
you and i were not meant to  
but i still look back.  

someone checks my list,  
life is full, bright, and moving,  
yet you cross my mind.  

was it even love?  
then i feel how much i cared,  
yes, it surely was.
If it was incredibly uncomfortable, there is a big lesson behind it. You are growing.
Congratulations. You have officially exceeded your comfort zone.
I let go and make room for growth.
Let's change our mindests one affirmation at a time. Breath in, breath out, release.
AE 7d
Branched between two oaks
I took it all in
the water, the open breeze
blended it all together
with the feeling of emptiness
and poured it into the ground
where the sun never goes
where things never grow
where the earth is barren
until something splits wide open
maybe it's the ground
or a feeling of living
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