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When They asked me
Who hurt me
I almost said your name
I almost cursed at the top of my lungs
The day we ever met
I almost broke every plate
In the kitchen
I almost cried another ocean
To drown out your memory
But I didn't...

I simply said myself

Because who lets someone stay
After setting fire to the bedroom
After leaving the ***** laundry
All of all their past lovers
on the bathroom floor
After leaving bloodstains on the carpet
Because who lets someone break them
over and over again

How can I blame him
When I could have walked away
at any time
My dear if I could hate you, I would.
sixpoetry Feb 23
i see the world from within the ninth cloud
heightened view of a broken world masks cracks with perfection

when i take a step back and admire all i am and have done
the beauty bursts with colors not seen by normal eyes

so bright it burns holes through doubt
so jagged it rips disbelief

i stare into the soul of the world i’ve made
the physical incarnation of childhood dreams
teenage goals
and adult realities

my love has jumped straight out of a storybook
and into my arms
intertwined destinies give way to a magical coalescence of perfection
a lil bit of this
and a lil bit of that
grown into the cutest curly-haired kid you’ve ever seen

little feet in a big house
big dreams in a small town
long life full of short love
short eyes always looking up

dreams on the big screen
sleepless nights piling up like the empty coffee cups
exhaustion beyond belief
the credits roll
pride beyond exhaustion beyond belief

one minute and the world is renewed
all hatred is extinguished with the power of perfect love
an impact bigger than ever experienced before
a new generation awakened at my fingertips

i am the change i waited to see
through the years becoming exactly who i always wished to be

i am the light breaking through the darkness
the second after the first midnight
a flower in the concrete
hope rising through despair

my name is synonymous with every good thing
spoken in every household
and will last longer than time itself

but of all the fame and awards i’ve received
and have yet to put on my shelf
my most prized possession is not what
but who

i’m luckier than amarillo slim
same amount but different kind of rich as bill gates
and forever grateful
for all i have
all i am
all i have yet to receive
and all i have yet to be

i see the world from within the ninth cloud
heightened view of a perfect world
a perfect life
a perfect job
a perfect family
and a perfect me

who’s four inches taller than before
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Marg Balvaloza Dec 2018
makulay na damdamin para sa'yo ay di pa rin kumukupas,
ako’y bihag ng pag-ibig mo, gustong-gusto ko ng tumakas
ang pusong nahimbing na sa pagtulog ay wag mo ng gisingin,
sa aking magandang panaginip, ayaw ko ng bangungutin

I'm all ready to give you up, forget you and ignore you. In fact, I'm half way there not caring about you. But you were always there to confuse me and bring me back to my senses. Why you're so good at destroying every part of me and attacking my whole vulnerability, waking my old feelings up, right when I'm almost there, moving on? Oh, please. Don't be the nightmare on my peaceful daydream.
Hannah Zedaker Jan 2018
zooming, zipping, speeding by
the air rushing by me as the spokes spin freely, gravity pulling me down
I outstretch my arms, and the wind lifts me high above the restraints of this world until the hill ends
and I clasp back onto those worn handles once more
bracing for the cracks in the walkway

'always be back when the street lights come on'

little creatures, sitting peacefully under an evergreen, only a little way into the old woman's lawn
a teal bike thrown quietly to the side
and crouch and creep slowly into the late afternoon
sheltered by luscious green ceilings above me, and the slight purr of a fur ball in front.

'always be back when the street lights come on'

the sun is setting quickly
but the bats always come out around now
an abandoned school with overgrown grass serves a grand hotel for my nocturnal friends
here they come
a large rain cloud of echo chirps and the flitter of paper thin wings catching air

'always be back when the street lights come on'

the bridge
water rushing quickly by,
it must have somewhere to be
the glowing moon settling above
prancing thoughts of dancing on those ripples and tickling the streaming moonbeams cross
and a little heartbeat quivers

"always be home when the street lights come on"
Julie Grenness Apr 2017
Some people live in fantasies,
Feed others non-issues and hyperboles,
Like politicians in government,
Phony fear campaigns, not what's meant,
Target disenfranchised, that's the way,
Who writes this drivel in our days?
Why worry about such hyperboles?
We all get ****** into fantasies....
Feedback welcome.
McDonald tsiie Oct 2016
The words look and see are senseless
If the sentence doesn't end with the word you

You once question my love for you
If I had one wish
Everything would disappear
So I can spend my to years to decades with you

I wish I could say it like Adele because I miss you
I remember looking for words in the dictionary
Now I just look at your pics
I pick up naturally

You said no debate
Don't exaggerate
I'm like cool entering The Love Religion gate

I never understood the state of conscious & unconsciousness
Like a drug dose
I think of you in a state of both
And that's real hyperbole

Absence makes the heart grow fonder

What was the colour of the sky
Before the unique statistic?
Beautiful Lee U Exquisite
That's blue from my point of poetic perspective

I can draw a love ❤ emoji
And do flips like doing gymnastics

Your elastic heart and smile
Is what I adore
You are fantastic
Than the fantastic four

My ex said everything comes to an end like us
Sweetheart in our relationshit
There was no trust

After 40 it dies, I just love it
When the ocean water dries and Eiffel Tower plummets

I never decreased my feelings
Higher was the level of love
The full limitation was far

This is love science
What we have can't be compared to something
Its bigger than infinity

Julie Grenness Aug 2016
At my antique womanly age,
I have reached beyond cynicism stage,
I am quite blasé about hyperbole,
Hearsay evidence about chicks like me,
You're wasting your time, unfortunately,
Old bags like me are basically resilient, you see,
I've had 700 billion lovers, it seems,
Plus or minus 10%, is that how you deem?
Contemplation on such matters makes me giggly!
Yes, quite blasé about hyperbole,
You're wasting your time, quite definitely!!!
Feedback welcome.
Ava Courtney May 2016
My tongue is a piece of sandpaper
I’m melting into a puddle
I want to dive into a snowdrift
The hot asphalt burnt my toes to ashes
Oh lord. Open me up, My organs are cooked
I think I’m well done
You can fry an egg on the sidewalk it’s so hot.
As I melt away. The sun keeps shining down on me
Laughing and mocking me as I slowly burn to death under this
500 degree heat.
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