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alaska jade Sep 2019
I miss you.
every single day the thought of you lingers in the back of my mind
why does everything remind me of you?
I love you.
and I hate myself for it.
they say that when you fall in love
you don’t fall out of it
you just realize that it wasn’t actually love
and I’m not sure what I’m more terrified of
finding out that I’ll never stop loving you
or having this “love” slip away from me.
another snippet from the same poem as the last.  constructive criticism and comments are always greatly appreciated! also if anyone could let me know what the most popular tags are for getting noticed that would be great :) I’m sick of just tagging “love, boyfriend, girlfriend, etc.”
alaska jade Sep 2019
it may be silly but every night that the clock hits 11:11 I wish for you.
I wish for us.
I wish for the laughs and the memories
sometimes I even wish for the tears
just anything with you in it, is better than now
just a snippet of a poem that I wrote. I feel like  these lines explain the meaning of the poem better than the full poem .
alaska jade Sep 2019
it’s a golden september day
and the only thing I can think about is
one of my shortest poems. this one has always felt like one of my most personal poems, despite it being so very simple.
alaska jade Sep 2019
the simple touch of your fingertips on mine
the way we used to walk just a bit closer than friends do
causing our hands to bump together as if our bodies were just begging us to intertwine our fingers together
no one passing by would be able to mistake us as “just friends”
i am absurdly busy today and all i am doing is reading and writing poems. i really admire the talented people on this website, everyone’s style is so unique and gorgeous.
alaska jade Sep 2019
How do you stop loving him when you told him that nothing would ever stop you from loving him?
No matter how many times he broke me I built myself back up.
I picked up each piece, saying sorry in between.
I never stopped to wonder why he did not help me.
I ask him:
If you love me, why do you hurt me?
He tells me he doesn't hurt me
He tells me that he doesn't break me
He tells me that the shards I am recollecting were placed by me.
I was blinded.
So careless of me to believe that I was the reason that I was shivering and shaking in bed, sobbing uncontrollably.
You refuse to take the blame.
Every time that I wept from your words,
the problem was the tears streaming down my face
not what caused them.
I want nothing more than for him to feel the way I did.
Just for a moment
For a brief moment
I want him to feel all of it.
The feeling that everything are you is falling apart.
My world, spiraling out of hand.
How could you do this to me?
Every night was sealed off with a
"Goodnight I love you."
The closure that kept me comfort.
The promise that he would be here for me when the sun rose.
The promise that no matter what
he would be by my side.
Everything I did was reckless.
How was I supposed to know that letting him back in would get me hurt over and over again?
The warnings from all my friends.
I'm not stupid.
Deep down I am sure that I knew the consequences.
No matter how many times I gave in it still felt worth it to me.
I became weak just to have the security of him.
He was my world.
How easy it is to give in to the constant temptation.
I'm sad.
All the time.
This numbness is becoming unbearable.
Was it the same when I was with him?
Why do i vaguely remember feeling better when I was with him?
The constant ache in my heart,
The empty feeling in my body.
I want to get out,
but he won't break me again.
hello everyone. i am fairly new to writing poetry and i am always up for constructive criticism. i hope you enjoy reading <3
Yoni Schulman Jul 2019
you said sunlight
wave after wave
is an endless mercy
given to us all

Greenville, 10 AM
I see water dripping off
their tiny black hands in the street
i hear their laughter echoing out
like wind chimes up the shadows of the city block
heat flows out of their purple heads
and carries up into the chlorine air
into the orchestra of traffic
through which
we vanish
like smoke
india Apr 2019
I hold down your eyes, forging a filter of darkness
My daunting arms holding you down. Making you slow.
I drag you to the places you forgot existed
I wander the sinister alleyways of deserted thoughts
I force feed you your own spoiled hatred until you’re so full you cannot eat
and so sick you cannot sleep
I steal the fluorescence from everything you see
You only write sad poems because of me

- depression
please give me feedback, i wrote this as part of 'escapril' and the prompt was in another perspective so i wrote about the only other thing i know too well.
Afiqah Mar 2019
you have that
sunday morning
kind of soul
that somehow
made hope metaphorically
basks its brilliancy
back into my heart
all over again

Jenay Long Mar 2019
She stumbles crookedly, confused by the pure hatred in their eyes,
She cries, afraid of the blood slowly seeping from sliced palms and soles.
She reaches out, only to be scorned by those who are to love her,
She covers her ears, as rage-filled words, echoes incessantly, cutting deeper into the wounds.
She hides in her own little dark corner, as she feels the pain their powers bring.
     Aren't villains the only ones that
     They should hurt?
     Does that make her one then?
She falls deeper, deeper down the rabbit-hole - deeper into the toxicity that is her life,
She scars harder; becoming more wretched, surrendering to the demons that haunt her.
She's disregarded by the powerful; she's scorned by the weak.
Its  s e m p i t e r n a l.
     "You cant become the hero."
She knows this, known it for so long now.
      No; everyone says she cant be the hero -
      Why not be the villain instead?
                                                        ­      By: Jenay Long
Originally made for a book idea, now an individual poem. After all if you can't be the hero - become the villain instead
Anthony Esposito Feb 2019
I was smoking a cigarette, in the early morning hours.
Devoured by the fog that came to claim its home.
The neighbors started shouting as they usually do.
The city starts to wake and speak.
I wonder what it says to you?

The wife began to clamor out the front door.
Dragging behind her, her husbands clothes.
He followed behind her not fazed and unamused.
Like this had happened before.

A single taxi  stutters by.
No service sign is lit.
The drivers face, like a ghost.
I wonder where he’s been?

The whole world is working.
It never stopped, since I’ve been standing here.
The streets lights begin to flicker off.
The sun begins to rise.
My cigarette has long been out.
And my lungs again fed up.

I wonder where your waking up?
I wonder do you think of me?
A city so big you could hide forever.
A city so big we could rule it together.
Set fire ourselves.
Burn it down if that’s what we pleased.
Or we can build it up.
Have towers in the sky.
And watch it till we grow old together.
I wonder if this could be?
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