Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Luna Jay Dec 2018
You cheat,
You get cheated.
You beat,
The blood beaded.
You sneak,
You aren’t needed.
You leak,
Warnings unheeded.
You got yours-
The itching sores,
The loose lips,
Tightly torn-
I mourn your bleeding loss.
Irina BBota Dec 2018
Have you ever felt the rain on your cheeks
smelling like a burgundy rose in the sunlight?
Or the fear that drives away the fire for weeks
from your soul, brought by the zephyr of the night?

Have you ever read the unwritten letters
with the wandering feather of the folly,
about the predicted destinies in sweaters
and the voiceless hearts who forget to remain jolly?

Have you ever seen the floating married couples
searching for their star in the clouds, up in the sky,
how they are looking for dizzying touches and chuckles
while writing their love on white sheets, in the hot July?

Have you ever heard the sharpened words,
the ones with hidden or multiple meanings,
how the blind hopes are torn apart by swords
bringing up bitter enigmas and bad feelings?

I did. I felt all of this. I've seen all of this.
How I was smashed in million pieces by the pain,
and yet, I believe Life will give me another kiss.
It'll get better one day, even if it's trying to rain.
BoogzThePoet Dec 2018
Nothing is enough
Nothing says love more then a social media post about her, right?
A post to reinsure that my position being a son is formed by approval for the media to recognize that my love is enough
I think about this every day.
Why do you need a post to assure your loved? Liked?
Maybe ill just like the post so the repercussions don’t fall far from the petty position she’s left standing on,
Firm, aligned, or is she an allie?
An allie that this mother tore the son’s soul from every being that man she always wanted but never let the soul of cujo surpass his demons.
I was the demon.
I never knew how to love her. I was always civil.
I always knew resentment.
Because to her,
Love is letting everyone see a satisfaction,
Stevie wonder’s superstition, spoke to me, while he sang “writings on the wall”, I posted a post of a glimmering light while I was sitting, dwelling in the dark.
Addicted to drugs, and now pills till this day and somehow she wants respect out of me?
Respect from what?
Respect to whom?
****, you got to respect my hustle.
All I ever did was want nothing more then a mother,
I can call my best friend.
I see it everywhere, the bond that a mother shares that a child will chase to the highest cloud looking for their mother’s direction to soar.
Soaring always came as an instinct to me.
My father drank my childhood down,
I found my childhood down street,
I was never trained to expand my wings, to oversee my demons, direct myself to a clash of life’s titans,
I found strength in friends.
I’m alive cause of them.
I’m a better man cause of it.
I’m the king who was killed from chapter one.
I will always love you for being my mother, being the one who kept me alive before memories faded from the blunt I held, choking.
Consumed in burning conversations
Three some torn from ashes of imaginary conversations
The devil withdrew, I'm  back to drowning in reality.
Wake.
For this poem I got the inspiration from ME's poems, here on HELLO-POETRY.
Haylin Nov 2018
Torn between risk & safety
Failure bullying success....
The future on a cutting board, with a knife labeled hasty

Torn between passion & stability
Survival wrestling happiness.....
the choice is there, but I lack the ability
Shannon Spivey Oct 2018
We need to finish this
But I don't know what this is
Is my heart yours?
Or, is it his?
My heart is breaking
I don't know what to do
After two weeks
I thought I was over you
Why did you do this to me
You locked me in your eyes
You smiled while you spoke
You will be my demise
We've had this unspoken thing
Why couldn't you let it end
It could have gone away like it never happened
But you drew me in again
It's been almost a year
That I've had these feelings for you
If this doesn't end soon
Who am I being married to?
01/03/2018
Arcassin B Oct 2018
by Arcassin Burnham

Sorry if I'm a little hard spoken on this poem,
But the ******* that i put up with for so many years got me
Clinching my fists and releasing my hate on the tree in the
Backyard where all the weights are, no point to recharge,
No point To be on guard,
**** this life and the people that tried to end mine,
Picking on my mental illness,
I can see the end around the corner.
Is it a crime to want to live in peace, no there no peace nowhere,
They say God doesn't put you through something you can not beat,
And while I'm torn between the fake and reality , I can not be.
©abpoetry2018

https://arcassin.blogspot.com/2018/10/torn.html
Next page