Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
i wanna be in your arms

in your hoodie

snuggled up tight with you by my side


small i love yous before we fall asleep

in each other’s arm

is that too much to ask?
anr, sh, ld
if you can’t tell, i’m sad lonely gay and single
Zoe Grace Nov 2019
I'm doing much better now
Than what I was before
Every little thing used to set me off
But now I don't mind them anymore

Haven't had a mental breakdown
In a month and two weeks
I know exactly who to thank
And he knows who he is

He's made my life so much better
By just being there for me
Holding me, kissing me, telling me I'm beautiful
Oh, and the oversized hoodies.
I'm back, minus some of the emotional baggage i had when i was here last!  My life is so much better now after i finally opened up to some friends, confessed a few things, and i dom't think i could be happier.
Rhoemeoh May 2019
Today, you came home to a package.
It was a box that I  had taped up tight.
Inside you found your worn out high school hoodie.
When you unfolded it, nearly every picture of us fell out like confetti.
And at the bottom of the box, in a thick hemp cloth, you found a framed picture of you
looking miserably in the mirror, back at me.
I was behind you, smiling and deliriously happy.
The picture was in pristine condition.
I wrapped it the way my ancestors would cover a mirror
after a death in the house.
They did this to keep  the spirits from passing to another realm.
I did it knowing we had ended that night and  that you would forever be looking back for me.
You will be miserable and I will be deliriously happy.
Written 4-14-2019
I was feeling some kind of way about new beginnings and what to take with me. Thank you for reading!
Hidden Glace Dec 2018
When did I forget who wanted to be?
Maybe it was when I found out that a ring doesn't mean forever;
when closed doors flew open and tore my home apart.
Maybe it was when I found out that mistakes had consequences;
Something I regret to this day and can't ever amend.
Maybe it was when I toured that school 810 miles away.
closing one chapter and opening another, with new characters.

Maybe it was when I thought I had nothing left to live for.
Maybe it was that day when a handful of pills poured out
Maybe it was that day when I hurt her again, saying it was her fault.
Maybe it was the three days I spent regretting not just swallowing those pills.
Maybe it was when I opened my veins while friends and family watched.
Maybe it was when I gathered everything I treasured, including but not limited to:

A black 3DS, which would go to my little brother.
A blue Nintendo Gameboy, which would go to my best friend.
A musical script, flipped to my favorite song, a song of goodbyes.
A foam stick, going to a friend who could use it.
My bow, recently given to me by my father;
(I wish I used it with him more)
A beaten up black hoodie, her favorite. She wouldn't take it, I'm sure, but it's only for her.
A few simple notes, detailing who gets what and why I did so.
Me, in a dress suit I knew I'd never grow out of.
Me, in a tie and belt.
Me, almost hanging there.
and a mess of memories that stopped me.

When did I forget who I wanted to be?
I suppose it was the day when I realized the person I wanted to be
no longer was a person I wanted to be.
I'll be honest, I'm still suicidal.
I make jokes, I can be happy, but at the end of the day, I just feel tired.

\Then my phone rings//
I know why I'm not the person I wanted to be.
I can't say I changed for you, or that I changed to be a "better man"
I don't need someone who's fixed.
I know I'm broken.
I don't need someone fake, wearing makeup and spending hours on looking "pretty"
I don't like that.
I need someone I can cry with
someone I can stay up late with
someone I can hold
someone I can comfort
someone I can be there for
someone I love
someone to wear that black beaten hoodie.
someone like you, Love.
thank you
Every time.
Kind of a poem, more of a poor attempt to express a complicated feeling. Wait a second, I think that's what poetry is for.
This was written very late at night and I am tired.
I love her very much <3
Kewayne Wadley Oct 2016
To my surprise I got a call from a friend I haven't heard from in a long time,
Ecstatic, I was filled with instant delight.
Before I could say another word
she told me that she had a gift for me that in the utmost urgency I had to come get it.
A few moments later she sent a text message. One filled with the utmost emphasis of now,
When I showed up she had a sneaky grin on her face
Hands behind her back
asking if I was ready.
I couldn't help but smile replying of course.
Without warning she jumped up wrapping her arms and legs around me,
Whispering in my ear that she knows how much that I love hoodies, though it wasn't much, here was one that would never fade or tarnish .
Her face becoming an hood
Enveloping my face
occupying my hands with her back
Zemyachis Mar 2016
silhouettes running down brick walls like

flashfloods clinging to ***** mascara
where starstruck children run in mud
call me the eve of original sin
for the things I have seen and the places I've been

for ridges of ink etched in landscapes of skin
for heartbeats in hoodies saying lest we forget

in the valley of the shadow of death
they rest with hands crossed over their chests
r Jan 2015
An Oklahoma politician
wants to outlaw hoodies
in the hood

It's true, it must be
I read it in Fox News  :)

I'd sooner be in Missouri or Cleveland
or New York City where you don't have to
wear a hoody or raise your hands to get shot

There are other things more pressing
than hoodies in the hood
that don't need ironing

like hoods in suits
and the elephant in the room
that needs shooting.
r ~ 1/6/15
He left her with two of his favorite sweaters
one t shirt ,a pair of jeans and new Adidas
Yet he had no intention on returning.
In the first week of waiting
she would fold the clothes in a corner
smiling foolishly to herself
thinking of how he would have
something to wear when he returns.
In the second week of waiting
her smile started to fade
Shed sit in the corner of her bed
with one of his favorite sweaters on and wait.
She found a little reason to smile again,
for the clothes still carried his scent.
she would crawl in her the corner of her bed
and draw the hoodie strings and
suffocate herself in soaked sweater sleeves
till she drifted off to sleep.
In the third week of waiting
she washed his clothes
for the scent was overwhelmingly repugnant.
now they belonged to no one
She laid the clothes out on the floor
placed a cigarette in her lips and lit a match
threw the flame to the floor
and watched the burning man

— The End —