Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Broken Pieces Jun 10
Mychelle, oh sweet Elle,
You are my heart and soul.
Like the mornings with a sweet smell,
And the calm nights with a soft lull.

I am who I am but that’s not it,
I was who I was but it's the past.
Once I changed my name everything fit,
Like somehow I know the sun will always last.

I feel lighter there’s no weight like before,
I no longer have to worry about the finishing blow.
Everything is bright and I feel the warmth once more,
The sun always shines but now I see the soft glow.
G Jun 10
I’m trying my best not to pull away when i feel unwanted, but i feel gravity pulling me by my arm

Even as i dig my heels into the rugged ground to try and stay

I can feel the string that tethers us try to fray

I keep re-tying the knot

Over.. and over.. again

I want to stay

Please help me feel that way
G Jun 10
She said she can’t love you for more then two days

And yet you both still act like a couple

But if i were to love you, i would love you for eternity

I would love you every waking moment if you only gave me a chance

And the sad part is, i can never say that i love you more then friends

Because you love her

And she might love you

And i’ll forever be the third wheel
G Jun 9
I know you both rather it just be you two

I can tell by the way you look at me

By the way you look at each other

By the way i walk away and you don’t follow
neth jones Jun 9
gestures for use on the neighbours   it'll ward off isolation
foreign no longer        but privately guarded  
buffered against secrets     we're neighbours now  
lock in with these people                                                        
click eyes    like desert lizards                                                        
a­nd lick at the brickwork   to heal its insurance

throwing up our arms to gravy   like a sports fan
an energy of invite   despite  they  each see the other
                                 ****** near every day
fun hats and clothes picked for colours
                  or practical aging
like mating flare
use up the garish leftovers from the artists box
                         and a dog perhaps
garnish  for the family way
a long ladder  shared between neighbours
cause 'hey ! ; our kids match your kids'
and always work toward the perfect sale
prepared for that one forgiving day
                and 'The Move'
original written approx spring/summer 2024
we're neighbours/lock in with these people/lick eyes and click/throwing up their arms to gravy neighbours/energy invite despite they see each the other/every ****** day /fun hats and clothess picked colors for/unusual in the artists box/and a dog perhaps (an excuse not to die inside the bode/always a work toward the perfect sale (one day))
ProfMoonCake Jun 3
I didn’t forget you, baby—
I’ve just been a little absent.
You see... it’s a boy.

He says sweet things,
Likes my smile,
Says my voice is heaven,
Notices my earrings.

I didn’t forget you, baby—
It’s just that I don’t want to cry.
You’ve held my pain,
Every word etched with blood.

His family seems nice,
The kind from the movies.
He wants to ride a horse.
He makes me blush.

I didn’t forget you, baby—
You seem far away.
I can’t run this fast.
We’ll meet again...
Maybe tomorrow.
Mustafa May 26
Who am I in this vast, open earth of different species
A species of the human race created from a clot of blood in the womb of a woman
One of a billion or more humans all created in the same way
But why was I created, what is my purpose on this vast earth
For surely nothing was created without purpose, otherwise why create at all?

So I was born in a hospital somewhere and there was happiness all around upon my arrival.
A new addition to the family someone to carry on the family name
I came into this world crying and all around me people were laughing with joy
If my arrival brought happiness why was I crying so much?
And so begs the question who am I and why was I created?

Like all humans, I was given a name to identify and make me unique.
Different cultures have different ways and different ceremonies to name their newborns.
But how come of all the species on this earth only human beings have names
Why don't animals, birds, insects who also produce offspring don't give names

So why was I created and what is my purpose on this earth?
I am still trying to find that out, just like a billion other human beings
After all, it cannot be that we were just put here on this earth
Everything that is here was put here for a purpose, a reason

I am sitting at a roadside café relishing the taste of freshly brewed coffee.
The waiter who brings me my coffee and croissants knows why he is there
To ensure the food and drinks I have ordered get to me on time
The right things are delivered to the right people at the right time

I also know why I am at the roadside café sipping hot coffee and enjoying hot delicious croissants.
I am searching for the answer to my lifelong question
Who am I?
I gaze deeply into my coffee, hoping to find the answer there
But all I see is a hot brown liquid with a fresh sensory smell
This Poem Is About The Question Man Has Been Having For Time immemorial But Upto Now No Satifactory Answer Has He Found.
Anais Vionet May 25
Can you make a friend— like a craft project?
I know, I hear this parental voice, “just be yourself.”

All of my classes this semester will be in one building, but I’m a control freak, I wanted to walk my schedule, go class to class, like I will on my first day. I have a locker too—this is so high school—but I wanted to find it, try the combination and plan what I’ll carry. I have questions too, like how’s the wi-fi, are there charging outlets, and where can I get coffee?

Orientation is Tuesday—but who can wait until Tuesday? Classes start Wednesday.  I’d never sleep this weekend with so many questions. I’m already having dreams where I’m lost, late and embarrassed.

So there I was, this morning, dressed for class with my green messenger bag—doing it—schedule in hand. I went into a small auditorium with cushioned, crimson, theater seating—where my first class will be—and there’s this other girl, dressed for class, schedule in hand.

We were like twins, except she’s tall and black and I’m not. Right off she commanded me, handing me her phone, no preamble, no “How do you do,” to “Take my picture.”
Of course, I obeyed, I’m not from outer space. I burst 50 quick frames, as she slightly varied her pose and she did likewise for me.

Her name is Chella and she graduated from Yale last week too, with a ‘Bachelor of Science in Global Affairs.’ I think I saw her on campus once or twice but our paths had never directly crossed.
“But IS "Global Affairs" a science degree?” I asked skeptically.
“Probably not,” she answered, “but some of us can live with ambiguity.”
Her first direct, commanding phrase limns her personality perfectly.
Yeah, we hit it right off.
.
.
Songs for this:
Cruel To Be Kind by Letters to Cleo
Perfect Day by Povo
Are You Trying to Be Funny? by Everything But the Girl
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 05/24/25:
limn = to portray in clear sharp detail
G May 21
In another life, my world would be different.

I would live in one house, with two parents that love each other, and my one dog that deserved to live.

I would be caught up on school, have perfect teeth, and feel like the things i say would want to be heard.

I would have friends that lived nearby, and we would hang out almost every night till it was time to go to bed, and then wake up the next morning and do it all again.

The moral of the story is that if i could choose, my life would be different, but that’s not in this life, only in another.
Azelea V May 11
May
its May and the flowers are starting to smile
the little creatures are flying out and about
the breeze lets out heaps of warm sighs
the sky looks excited to witness the shenanigans

for so long i prayed for happiness
i never stopped;
and along the way i collected hope and faith

now it feels like every single thing is telling me
that I won , I finally won
I only know how to laugh in the places i cried
spring and summer of life, the coldness has vaporised into warmth and laughter
Next page