#aboutyou - Hello Poetry

Dia jauh, tetapi dia menciptakan kedekatan Dia sulit untuk dimengerti, tetapi dia mampu memahamiku Dia terlihat dingin, tetapi dia memberikan kehangatan Dia bukan yang pertama, tetapi aku harap dia yang terakhir.

0

Oct 8, 2022

Oct 8, 2022 at 1:37 PM UTC

peachya

Dia

Dia jauh, tetapi dia menciptakan kedekatan Dia sulit untuk dimengerti, tetapi dia mampu memahamiku Dia terlihat dingin, tetapi dia memberikan kehangatan Dia bukan yang pertama, tetapi aku harap dia yang terakhir.

4

My fingers are a boat, Navigating the river of your skin. Through the bog & long blades of grass, I picked for you a bush of roses. In the hopes of making you smile, Wandering away with thoughts of you. The kind of peace brought soon as I see your face. Though the sun has yet to rise I’ve sunk down in the pores of your skin. Searching for the best flowers I can find. Day after day Night after night. I’ve dived & I’ve sunk Curious of what I’ll find, At times I didn’t want to leave. My fingers free to roam the curves Of your body with nothing to tie them down. Your body a wave gentle & smooth, Guiding me to where I sought In mind body & spirit. Through the bog & long blades of grass. I placed all the flowers I found in your heart. Wild & free Tomorrow, I’ll return to do the same To watch the sunrise of your cheeks

0

Nov 29, 2021

Nov 29, 2021 at 10:46 AM UTC

kewayne-wadley

The Valley of Your Smile

My fingers are a boat, Navigating the river of your skin. Through the bog & long blades of grass, I picked for you a bush of roses. In the hopes of making you smile, Wandering away with thoughts of you. The kind of peace brought soon as I see your face. Though the sun has yet to rise I’ve sunk down in the pores of your skin. Searching for the best flowers I can find. Day after day Night after night. I’ve dived & I’ve sunk Curious of what I’ll find, At times I didn’t want to leave. My fingers free to roam the curves Of your body with nothing to tie them down. Your body a wave gentle & smooth, Guiding me to where I sought In mind body & spirit. Through the bog & long blades of grass. I placed all the flowers I found in your heart. Wild & free Tomorrow, I’ll return to do the same To watch the sunrise of your cheeks

26

Your smile is what I love. Your arms is where I wish to live. Your sweet voice is what I long to listen. Just about you and us that's all I have always written. ~your smiling queen :)

0

Aug 18, 2019

Aug 18, 2019 at 2:13 AM UTC

Smiling_queen

'YOU' are my POETRY!

Your smile is what I love. Your arms is where I wish to live. Your sweet voice is what I long to listen. Just about you and us that's all I have always written. ~your smiling queen :)

5

Because I could see your smile For a single Moment I realized there are A thousand little things I would never change About you

0

Apr 4, 2019

Apr 4, 2019 at 11:46 AM UTC

Hurricanebabe

With You

Because I could see your smile For a single Moment I realized there are A thousand little things I would never change About you

8

You know You are beautiful Your mirror knows Too And That is enough

0

Mar 9, 2019

Mar 9, 2019 at 10:54 AM UTC

mystic-ink-plus

About You

You know You are beautiful Your mirror knows Too And That is enough

6

It isn't fair You've gone and done it again Made me love you With reckless abandon No thought of consequences or heartache Just like last time Did you know you were pulling me back in Just when I thought I'd gotten out, gotten away Were you aware That with every text, every laugh, every touch I was falling deeper in love with you Until every poem I wrote was about you Last time you weren't ready for this, for us, for a relationship I waited as long as I could, but I couldn't wait forever This time I made the same mistake, Thinking you might finally be ready And you might have been Except that soon you'll be Thousands Of miles Away And I'll be here Waiting And hoping And praying That one day you might love me enough to come home

0

Mar 1, 2018

Mar 1, 2018 at 5:56 PM UTC

starcrossedpoet

About You

It isn't fair You've gone and done it again Made me love you With reckless abandon No thought of consequences or heartache Just like last time Did you know you were pulling me back in Just when I thought I'd gotten out, gotten away Were you aware That with every text, every laugh, every touch I was falling deeper in love with you Until every poem I wrote was about you Last time you weren't ready for this, for us, for a relationship I waited as long as I could, but I couldn't wait forever This time I made the same mistake, Thinking you might finally be ready And you might have been Except that soon you'll be Thousands Of miles Away And I'll be here Waiting And hoping And praying That one day you might love me enough to come home

26

I can't count the number of times, the wind stopped me in my tracks. The length of night that stretched out of my heart. The number of times, I could not say goodbye. I counted on so many things to signal your return. Each time, the signs dwindled down, to what they are today. It was never, the way you described; I found out, unintentionally. You'd call on a whim, And miraculously, I'd be there. Like the worn down music-box my grandmother kept. My motor was wound, and I laid, Always ready. Even if I were blind, I'd know you from the gentler notes. The rate of your breath, the sound of your voice, the scent of your hair... I didn't have the heart, to stay far enough away. I wasn't a slave, But, I couldn't call this freedom. I was a poet, with a few words, and a jar full of tears. I'd carry them to town: every morning negotiating a fair price, to those who'd pay. They'd pay me in flowers, in kisses, and large bellowing laughs. But my pockets were empty, my lips parched, my voice hoarse. But I did have a smile. It spread from cheek to cheek. My eyes would receive the light, and transpose it into something else. Faces molded by a Gutenberg Press. Antiquarian, but lovely either way. After a day or so, the ink would fade at an alarming rate. Once red lips, now chapped and anguished. Their arms, could not hold me. I was already, very far away. Now, I watched as tears fell, from eyes that weren't my own. I watched, and felt a pain in my stomach. Not the gut turning pain of guilt. I was hungry! But my pockets were still empty. I spent it all (out of concern for my health), on a fake smile and an empty glass. But don't think it was all that sudden. I was cold, I was alone, and I was drifting through a town I didn't know. I went back and forth with the angel in my heart, and the devil in my ***** for a whole 30 seconds, accepting the shame I knew you wouldn't feel. Now, now, I know what you're thinking. This story deteriorated into one about me. But it hasn't. It's still about you. 100%. So, I'm sure, one day, you'll read this letter. You'll file it away with all the postcards I sent. Maybe even loosely bind it in a folder, held together with rubber bands, stables and tape. Not with the notation "beautiful poems," nor "inspiring messages," and definitely not "everlasting love." You'll put a post-it note on top, and label it "Deranged, Obsessive Ramblings." It'll float around, bouncing in between the chasm of your perfectly sculpted head, till one day you realize: "It couldn't be about 'Him'." You see, my life had none of the adornments I mentioned. It had no flowers, no kisses, and assuredly, no bellowing laughs. But I can say, I was really, quite hungry. The End.

0

Dec 11, 2017

Dec 11, 2017 at 3:12 AM UTC

lolimeister16

September 17th

I can't count the number of times, the wind stopped me in my tracks. The length of night that stretched out of my heart. The number of times, I could not say goodbye. I counted on so many things to signal your return. Each time, the signs dwindled down, to what they are today. It was never, the way you described; I found out, unintentionally. You'd call on a whim, And miraculously, I'd be there. Like the worn down music-box my grandmother kept. My motor was wound, and I laid, Always ready. Even if I were blind, I'd know you from the gentler notes. The rate of your breath, the sound of your voice, the scent of your hair... I didn't have the heart, to stay far enough away. I wasn't a slave, But, I couldn't call this freedom. I was a poet, with a few words, and a jar full of tears. I'd carry them to town: every morning negotiating a fair price, to those who'd pay. They'd pay me in flowers, in kisses, and large bellowing laughs. But my pockets were empty, my lips parched, my voice hoarse. But I did have a smile. It spread from cheek to cheek. My eyes would receive the light, and transpose it into something else. Faces molded by a Gutenberg Press. Antiquarian, but lovely either way. After a day or so, the ink would fade at an alarming rate. Once red lips, now chapped and anguished. Their arms, could not hold me. I was already, very far away. Now, I watched as tears fell, from eyes that weren't my own. I watched, and felt a pain in my stomach. Not the gut turning pain of guilt. I was hungry! But my pockets were still empty. I spent it all (out of concern for my health), on a fake smile and an empty glass. But don't think it was all that sudden. I was cold, I was alone, and I was drifting through a town I didn't know. I went back and forth with the angel in my heart, and the devil in my ***** for a whole 30 seconds, accepting the shame I knew you wouldn't feel. Now, now, I know what you're thinking. This story deteriorated into one about me. But it hasn't. It's still about you. 100%. So, I'm sure, one day, you'll read this letter. You'll file it away with all the postcards I sent. Maybe even loosely bind it in a folder, held together with rubber bands, stables and tape. Not with the notation "beautiful poems," nor "inspiring messages," and definitely not "everlasting love." You'll put a post-it note on top, and label it "Deranged, Obsessive Ramblings." It'll float around, bouncing in between the chasm of your perfectly sculpted head, till one day you realize: "It couldn't be about 'Him'." You see, my life had none of the adornments I mentioned. It had no flowers, no kisses, and assuredly, no bellowing laughs. But I can say, I was really, quite hungry. The End.

50

it’s 7:56. i’m thinking about you that’s pretty much what i do these days think about things like your laugh the way you makes me feel why i’m thinking about you again things like that. i think about you talking to me in another room away from everyone else. i think about exactly what you said. “i really appreciate how easy you are to get along with.” and that was the moment. i know it seems like an odd thing to fall in love with but so am i. i think you about so hard that i feel it in my chest i dream about you while i’m awake i think i’ve loved you for years. it feels like i’ve been yours for decades. it’s 7:57.

0

Nov 3, 2017

Nov 3, 2017 at 8:02 PM UTC

kalexw

do you also count the minutes?

it’s 7:56. i’m thinking about you that’s pretty much what i do these days think about things like your laugh the way you makes me feel why i’m thinking about you again things like that. i think about you talking to me in another room away from everyone else. i think about exactly what you said. “i really appreciate how easy you are to get along with.” and that was the moment. i know it seems like an odd thing to fall in love with but so am i. i think you about so hard that i feel it in my chest i dream about you while i’m awake i think i’ve loved you for years. it feels like i’ve been yours for decades. it’s 7:57.

23

1. your smile the way the curves have always surpassed MY *** which I thought was the fattest thing I had ever seen. but I was wrong. the curve of your smile had chased away almost every single bad thought of myself. almost. 2. your touch I was uncomfortable with even the thought of human interaction. speaking is one thing but please don't... touch. you showed me that touching didn't always have to be painful. when you wrapped me into your arms and pulled me close. strangers be weary, there's still the bright red sign hanging over what he likes to call this "piece of art" and it still reads "please don't... touch." except this time, this time there's dark bold ink directly under the warning, "unless it's him. then touch all you want because your touches feel like... home." 3. your breathing I know this one seems a little Charles Manson-esque, but let me get my point across. your breaths are the sound of the ocean tide calmly dancing up onto the sand. I just wanna dip my toes in, no matter the temperature. if it's cold, let it be so cold that my feet go numb. if its warm, let it be warm enough to boil the blood within me. those three signs were the red flags making it painfully obvious that I wasn't comfortably alone anymore. I was home.

0

Aug 7, 2017

Aug 7, 2017 at 10:52 PM UTC

lielesslove

3 red flags

1. your smile the way the curves have always surpassed MY *** which I thought was the fattest thing I had ever seen. but I was wrong. the curve of your smile had chased away almost every single bad thought of myself. almost. 2. your touch I was uncomfortable with even the thought of human interaction. speaking is one thing but please don't... touch. you showed me that touching didn't always have to be painful. when you wrapped me into your arms and pulled me close. strangers be weary, there's still the bright red sign hanging over what he likes to call this "piece of art" and it still reads "please don't... touch." except this time, this time there's dark bold ink directly under the warning, "unless it's him. then touch all you want because your touches feel like... home." 3. your breathing I know this one seems a little Charles Manson-esque, but let me get my point across. your breaths are the sound of the ocean tide calmly dancing up onto the sand. I just wanna dip my toes in, no matter the temperature. if it's cold, let it be so cold that my feet go numb. if its warm, let it be warm enough to boil the blood within me. those three signs were the red flags making it painfully obvious that I wasn't comfortably alone anymore. I was home.

7

Your first love is meant to be sweet Gumdrops Bubblegum shared chocolates and giggles Texting late into the night, long after we were meant to go to bed Your heart skipping a beat when a notification from That Person appears Holding hands Sharing popcorn knowing each other's favorite snacks Your first love is meant to be gentle making snow angels pillow fights watching your favorite movies stolen kisses and fumbling through your first makeout session together like the love-drunk kids you are Sometimes when I tell people about the things that defined our love They get scared They ask if I'm okay They wonder why I stuck around I guess when it's your first love, you can't tell that it's painfully sour because you've never tasted something sweet before From C.C.

0

Apr 24, 2017

Apr 24, 2017 at 10:43 PM UTC

skip-harley

Sweet as Candy

Your first love is meant to be sweet Gumdrops Bubblegum shared chocolates and giggles Texting late into the night, long after we were meant to go to bed Your heart skipping a beat when a notification from That Person appears Holding hands Sharing popcorn knowing each other's favorite snacks Your first love is meant to be gentle making snow angels pillow fights watching your favorite movies stolen kisses and fumbling through your first makeout session together like the love-drunk kids you are Sometimes when I tell people about the things that defined our love They get scared They ask if I'm okay They wonder why I stuck around I guess when it's your first love, you can't tell that it's painfully sour because you've never tasted something sweet before From C.C.

26

in my head you're on a pedestal not even real celestial like a statue carved by artist you make me feel less heartless but i've hardly gotten to know you i don't want it to be true because what happens next? it's like another vortex like to keep it casual trying to be adaptable but your good looks are intimidating what could i be implicating?

0

Feb 21, 2015

Feb 21, 2015 at 1:25 AM UTC

samantha-ellis-1

unfinished

in my head you're on a pedestal not even real celestial like a statue carved by artist you make me feel less heartless but i've hardly gotten to know you i don't want it to be true because what happens next? it's like another vortex like to keep it casual trying to be adaptable but your good looks are intimidating what could i be implicating?

12