Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Zoe taylor Dec 12
To me, you'll always be a burgeoning carnation beside withered tulips,
You never fail to shield me like how the moon stitches itself to the sun in a solar eclipse.

I want to do the same for you, but don't know how to mend anything when the seams of your tapestry brittle,
I can't embroider, nor can I sew but if it's for you, I'll try, little by little,

If you'll let my thread pass your torn fabric, I promise to tend as well as I can,
Even if my fingers become indigo with tedium, I'll intertwine with all I am.

Silken heart of the purest fragility,
Luminescent in ebony, but still supple with tranquillity.

I'd like to be the same for you, but I don't know how to be anything more than bitter candlelight,
I can't give the lustre you need, but I'll try, in hopes one day I might,

If one dusk, I'm even a flitter more to you than a *** of wax sat on your windowsill,
If that ever happens, to give you light, I'll perch forever content, without an Until.
This poem is about trying to reciprocate the joy someone brings to you. It can be interpreted several different ways such as romantic or familial love however I wrote it about friendship but you can read and apply to whatever context you like <3
Kelly Mistry Aug 2023
Belonging

The feeling that you will always be
accepted
                                        Integral
one of us

Faults forgiven
Triumphs celebrated
Your past and future
                                        Integrated
into our story

Such an important feeling
                                        Vital
To our sense of community
our sense of self

The ground feels shaky
Prone to destabilizing quakes at the first crack
If that feeling is lacking
                                         Withheld

The floor disappears from beneath you
If that feeling vanishes
                                         Or is withdrawn

Usually it takes more than one
Of the us
To expel or invite

But perhaps
The most influential
One of us

Is you

At the end of the day
You decide
                                         Unconsciously
                                         Consciously
If you are worthy
Of belonging
Of being

                                         One of the us

Sometimes though
The better question may be
Are we worthy
                            of belonging to you?
David Hilburn Feb 2023
Taint, a tender trap?
Blue of the sky, remembered by a cloud:
Faintly, the poetry of life, and its hap
Has the voice to step forward, and remind the season of the proud:

A hatful of poor decision's, has its merit...
But the cool eye of embarrassment
Has come and gone, with meet to understand, limited...
To ours, the count of couth, is one more irony's lament?

Hate me when you see the dragon...
Ought fix and fit enough futures
The life of a needier first, is always a sorrow last, a harrowed tongue?
Has said the obvious, a role in the heinous is a fools curiosity...

Throwing tenderness at you, like one of thumbs even is...
Reasons may give you onus, a variety to concede a gift
Coming for beauty, and its rosy inclination, a truer wisdom
That has survived the heed, the beating wings of condition to lift:

Hate me one more time, a reality of pain has become a champion:
To the fate, the hardened courage of youth, with a challenged whisper?
May a knowing hurt, be the fascinated letter of providence
Seeing the obvious, a bird of purer colors, will finish the kiss?

Guns with an imagination...?
Salt in a brutish court, of angers more, to swear in romantic language
Still the burden of squalor, with a slighter lip of intimation?
Your fruit is sweeter by the secrecy, as if, a cold shoulder ever is a place for rage...
A garden for notorious Rock and Roll, tattoos that made the difference...?
Jennifer Buzzell Aug 2021
The anxiety,
And the unwelcome bpd
Coming with a constant need of leaving my own body
It still doesn't belong to me
It still doesn't contain me
It still doesn't represent me
So i'm smoking until I can't think
Like it's my only instinct
Smoking until i'm not able to mask
Until everything is not a never ending task  
Just another meager hit of smoke
If I don't help myself, I might lose us both

I want to feel the happiness, the treasure of worthiness
Or at least a little steadiness
Starved and drained of self-worth
Only for me, the notorious dearth
Gripping, scraping and crushing out flaws
Somehow i'm believing those sardonic applause

For me time is an depleting flow of self disrespect
And I need to move on from my own echo of neglect
Maria Mitea Oct 2020
Lives inside your story!

Let go of distancing yourself from the parts of yourself that you believe they don’t fit in.

Let go of pushing yourself outside your own story.

The sense of worthiness lives inside you!
Erik Luo Sep 2020
I shall speak to you about that gold
That you held deep inside without being told
It is there since you were born
And it grows every day through your hurt

What really matters
Is not what you have
But what you are
What you choose to be

It takes great awareness
Often through deep pain and sadness
To have the amount of self-knowledge
To be able to love existence

It is a beautiful paradox
That which makes you the most whole
Are all the scars that you have gone through
It defines your essence and completes your soul

I see myself in you
It is so beautiful
And I love you
For your existence

What determines our worthiness
Is nothing but the choice
Of great love and acceptance
Of the beauty in your existence

For that is enough
The taste of your presence
The scent of your being
And the sound of your soul

That’s all I need
You are worthy of everything
mel Mar 2020
you are
tread(in)g through
dream-filled waters
and although beautiful
they can seem deeply
frustrating at (time)s

but (you) have the power within

(learn) to laugh when it gets heavy
you are only served the kind of tides
(that) you are strong enough to conquer

no wave thrown (you)r way
could ever submerge the
delicate warrior you (have)
(become) today

flow with (the) Universe
you will never be shifted
the wrong (way)
in time you learn that
you have become the way
Isabel Frye Mar 2020
My darling.... are you ever confronted with the universal truth that you won’t ever sink to the bottom of the ocean?
Have you ever been confronted with the fact that you won’t ever touch the validation you seek?
And as you reach the tiled pool floor and you brace yourself
Your skin says no
Like an oily layer you slip and slide back up
Now as you speak to me your voice quivers as if, you never had even touched the thick water before
My darling there is a science to art
And as my density shakes like your lips whenever you become small and fall to the floor, I wonder why I keep fighting for something you just won’t give up.
maybe you truly are a scientist
And as lips touch,
the waves of the ocean cover us and we sink slowly but surely  
finally
Maybe if I jump head first I’ll be worthy enough,
If I make a big enough mess,
a disaster,
maybe if I scratch the surface, or even throw a fit,
I can really be noticed
Maybe if I dance in the hearts of mankind, dance in your shaking veins as I try my hardest to trust you, to give in
maybe then I’ll hit the bottom of the ocean
But I sink because of pressure
I sink because you tell me to
I sink because I want to silence my thoughts
I sink because I want to stay in this moment
Where the vibrations of your mockery and foolishness can never dream of reaching me
I sink because I don’t want to swim
I sink because I want to reach the bottom of this ocean.
Maybe then I’ll touch the feeling of being wanted,
The eerie silence hugging me tighter and tighter, holding me like a new mother holds her child, wanting to shield them from the world.
But in the pool water I only float quickly back to earth
To life
I hate leaving the quiet waters
As my body enters the real abyss I breathe the cold air into my lungs and I scream-
I scream to be heard
I scream to silence these useless memories
I scream to be known
I scream for you to see
I scream for all that was lost
I scream so that you can wake up
I scream for worthiness- I scream to trust.
I scream so that maybe these bubbles won’t surface
I scream for the waves to carry my sighs
I sigh for the ocean to carry my screams.
And I scream to find my voice.
And that I too may
May hit the bottom of the floor
It may be a universal truth that I will never reach the perfection I seek
It may be my death wish, and I am doomed to fail
But I will still wish that maybe,
Maybe I too
Will be told
That science is an art
And I too can be an artist.
My first poem! I would love if you could possibly leave a comment with feedback, I would really appreciate it!
Moth Jan 2021
Listening does not mean learning.
Learning does not mean knowledge.
Knowledge does not mean you are wise.
Wisdom does not mean you are aged.
Age does not mean you are frail.
Frailness does not mean you are weak.
Weakness does not mean you are worthy.
Worthiness does not mean you are entitled.
Entitlement does not mean you are the one.
Next page