The past i no longer hold
I see only a future, a bright future
But the present nudges,
And so i stay alert and listen to what it has offer,
Looking for what it presents
Yet i worry  about the past.

I wait
I sit and wait
my whole life
to unfold
nothing happens
I sit and wait
to feel the life
I have been told about
nothing shifts
I listen
I look
only noise
only stuff
my mind is full of it
I try to escape
when I sit and wait


Shaped by my past
my mind gives me orders
so subtle
they seem to be coming from me
so subtle
I believe I am free
it is only when I feel
myself
I know it can not be
as I notice
my frozen me
I move
I tremble
nobody sees
how I shake
nobody sees
how I hesitate
they find no harm in me
thus they welcome
my company

not sure
whether this will
be my life
whether this is
what is
or whether
there will be more
I try to reach
the light
of
now

I know
I’m not supposed to
Cling to the past
But I can’t
Get ahold
Of the present

the quiet now when
once you
cut yourself to songs on boxes
shaped like hearts;

                                   today
those edges
too have left
behind all blank and human
shaped a body trembling

It has only been a day or two
since I first joined site
and in that time I have found
why you have this might

When we decide to write
we give up part of us
Then we just leave it there...
for others to discuss

And when I start to
go into my worst state
I read the poems here
and see how you could relate

A poem is for everyone
and here that holds most true
So this is why I ask
to see myself in you

Now when I wake up the next day,
I know for sure to say,
"Hello Poetry."

here’s to the past
to the days long gone and barely remembered
where the world is basking in infinite sunlight
and everything that was wrong
is somehow twisted in your mind to feel right

here’s to the naivety of childhood
where strangers are friends
friends are imaginary
and imaginary is real

here’s to the paper airplanes and the magic wands made of sticks
to the bath towel capes and the big wheel races
to dinosaur chicken nuggets and chocolate milk
and to falling asleep in your mother’s arms

here’s to growing up and colliding with the world head-on
to holding your ******* room full of noisy mouths and deaf ears
to the screams
to the whispers
to the holes in the walls
and to the letters stained with poison tears

here’s to the breaking up
and breaking down
and to the redemption of re-colliding
and repairing

here’s to feeling infinite
to blaring music with the windows down on an empty highway
to the times when youth feels tangible
and the world silences to make way for your noise

here’s to the sleepless nights
that either make your life or tear it apart
to knowing
the most meaningful conversations always happen after 2am
and to the realization that you are not defined by attributes
but by the memories you possess

here’s to the songs that transport you through time with a single note
to the smells that are intensely reminiscent of the forty-third day of first grade
to the nostalgic pain too excruciating to endure
and to the soft smiles of content remembrance

here’s to the good ol’ days
and to wishing there was a way to know
you’re in them before you’ve actually left

here’s to the present
to feeling a memory being made in the moment in which it’s being lived
and to already missing someone while they’re still sitting next to you

here’s to the most frightening way to zone out
watching the seconds tick by on the clock
and being unable to fight the realization that time is not counting up
but rather going down

here’s to the moments which define your life
to the tears
and the fears
and the years
that you live through

here’s to the firsts
and the lasts
to a past of tragic endings
and a future of new beginnings

here’s to falling in love
with them
with that
with life
with you
to the wishes upon stars
to the stolen glances
and the taken chances
and to finding a new definition of “everything”

here’s to the people that feel more like home than the house you grew up in
to never being loved by as many people as you are able to love
to the feeling of security
and to everything that sneaks through the back door
while you’re busy guarding the front

here’s to the courage it takes to let go
and to the courage it takes to hold on

here’s to what you lose
to what you gain
to what you lose when you gain
and to what you gain when you lose

here’s to the second after
and what it holds
to the weight of unprocessed information
and to feelings on the rise

here’s to the long nights and string lights
hands and life plans and never-ending fights

here’s to the songs that drown the sounds of breaking down
and the anthems of those beginning to build back up

here’s to now
to cherishing every moment while it lasts
before it falls victim to the minds of those lucky enough to experience it
yet human enough to forget


here’s to the future
to the dreams you dream
and the plans you scheme
to the life you lead
and the stories you leave

here’s to those whose greatest fear is oblivion
to the breath taken seconds after your name is spoken for the last time
to those who influence from beyond the grave
and those lost to the enormity of time

here’s to the cups of coffee that are yet to be drunk
and the people that are too
to never knowing which moment is your last
and to the acceptance that life flies by all too fast

here’s to the plans we make at 1am
when the world belongs solely to those who remain awake
to the desire for a spontaneous road trip
and to the desperate need to escape
and here’s also to those convincing enough to make you want to stay

here’s to the places you’ll live
the kids you’ll have
the jobs you’ll loathe
and love that lasts

here’s to everyone you thought you needed
more than the very organs in your own body
before learning the painful lesson of removal
and knowing that only one kidney is needed to survive

here’s to those who kept going when they were lost
and those lost because they kept going

here’s to me
to you
to him
to her
to then
to now
to why
to how

here’s to the people you will never meet again
and the longing for a place you will never return

here’s to the good ol’ days
and the awareness of their presence in the present
before they inevitably embody the cruel longing their name implies

because boy,
does time know how to fly

here’s
to
the
good
old
days

The past looked was engulfed with regret
Prepared to unleashed chaos and despair to the future
The future was worried and unsettled
It ponders whether to fight or to run
This two came crashing like light and darkness
In the midst of this, there was the present
Imitating the movements of leaves
Steady and calm, not rushing
Relishing the moment of still

Don't be a prisoner
Of past
If you do
Only pain will last

Don't be a over thinker
Of present
If you do
It'll be malignant

Don't be a liability
Of future
If you do
You'll be left alone creature