#beheard - Hello Poetry

I really never use the word hate But boy do I hate when people ask me if I’m okay Mainly because I can never gather the words To tell them how I really feel. But if You’re looking for my answer to that question It goes a little something like this. “No I’m not okay. I’m breaking into a million Pieces right in front of everyone and no one notices. I’m losing weight and it’s not from working out. My thoughts are creating a hurricane in my brain And I can not calm the storm. My heart is a battlefield at war with my mind And I’m afraid I’m losing this battle.” But wait there’s more... “My nose hurts from snorting to many lines of insecurity, my arms are weak from trying to pull myself out of all this self doubt and worry, my wrists are wounded from the cuts I allowed others to make. My smile has been playing hide and seek for awhile now and I’m still searching for it... by the time I find it I may just be 6 feet under.. which doesn’t sound like A bad idea... I’m tired. I want to sleep. I think I’m going to take the rest of this pain medicine Because this pain is to deep, the wounds won’t heal And hell im tired of feeling. So I think I want to sleep. Yeah. That’s what I want to do sleep and be at peace” But instead I’ll smoke this blunt filled With fake I love yous and it’ll be alrights, to numb the pain for a little while. Instead I’ll drink this whiskey until I’ve drowned out all this feeling. Instead I’ll just say goodnight and sleep to forget about being alive for a little while. But trust me “I’m okay”

0

Nov 14, 2019

Nov 14, 2019 at 6:58 AM UTC

melissa-fayard

I’m okay

I really never use the word hate But boy do I hate when people ask me if I’m okay Mainly because I can never gather the words To tell them how I really feel. But if You’re looking for my answer to that question It goes a little something like this. “No I’m not okay. I’m breaking into a million Pieces right in front of everyone and no one notices. I’m losing weight and it’s not from working out. My thoughts are creating a hurricane in my brain And I can not calm the storm. My heart is a battlefield at war with my mind And I’m afraid I’m losing this battle.” But wait there’s more... “My nose hurts from snorting to many lines of insecurity, my arms are weak from trying to pull myself out of all this self doubt and worry, my wrists are wounded from the cuts I allowed others to make. My smile has been playing hide and seek for awhile now and I’m still searching for it... by the time I find it I may just be 6 feet under.. which doesn’t sound like A bad idea... I’m tired. I want to sleep. I think I’m going to take the rest of this pain medicine Because this pain is to deep, the wounds won’t heal And hell im tired of feeling. So I think I want to sleep. Yeah. That’s what I want to do sleep and be at peace” But instead I’ll smoke this blunt filled With fake I love yous and it’ll be alrights, to numb the pain for a little while. Instead I’ll drink this whiskey until I’ve drowned out all this feeling. Instead I’ll just say goodnight and sleep to forget about being alive for a little while. But trust me “I’m okay”

22

SPEAK USE YOUR WORD USE YOUR TONGUE YOU CAN CHANGE THE WORLD WITH A SINGLE WORD I SPEAK AS LOUD AS I CAN TO BE HEARD TO SAY TO SPEAK TO SING TO WRITE TO BE EVERYONE HAS A VOICE, EVEN IF IT'S SILENT YOU CAN WRITE BE HEARD SPEAK

0

Dec 11, 2018

Dec 11, 2018 at 10:05 AM UTC

thorns-1

SPEAK

SPEAK USE YOUR WORD USE YOUR TONGUE YOU CAN CHANGE THE WORLD WITH A SINGLE WORD I SPEAK AS LOUD AS I CAN TO BE HEARD TO SAY TO SPEAK TO SING TO WRITE TO BE EVERYONE HAS A VOICE, EVEN IF IT'S SILENT YOU CAN WRITE BE HEARD SPEAK

15

Lower your voice and soften your tone, if they're listening they'll still hear you.

0

Oct 3, 2017

Oct 3, 2017 at 9:55 AM UTC

Donielle

Volume

Lower your voice and soften your tone, if they're listening they'll still hear you.

2

I always wanted to do spoken word poetry, but paper is too forgiving. It's so easy to pour onto paper what you think, how you feel. To become what they want... expect, hope, fantasize... to hear. If there's a misspelled word: bitterness, anger, frustration, blame... there is always the spell check. Or if there's a typo: misunderstanding, miscommunication, misappropriation... miss-everything... there is the backspace key. And if all else fails, and the words are too much: too far, too long... so long... there's always delete. And start again. Paper is too forgiving, I've imagined how it feels: scribbled on, removed from, blotted out. And then discarded once I've been read, or not. I mean, how much paper is recycled that's never even been touched... till it's tossed into shredder to be reshaped, remolded, reconstituted... to become something else. How many poems are written that never even get read. At least words spoken out loud have a chance if screamed... or whispered... loud enough, to get heard. Yes, paper is too forgiving

0

Sep 8, 2015

Sep 8, 2015 at 4:35 PM UTC

sherry-lore

The Forgiveness of Paper

I always wanted to do spoken word poetry, but paper is too forgiving. It's so easy to pour onto paper what you think, how you feel. To become what they want... expect, hope, fantasize... to hear. If there's a misspelled word: bitterness, anger, frustration, blame... there is always the spell check. Or if there's a typo: misunderstanding, miscommunication, misappropriation... miss-everything... there is the backspace key. And if all else fails, and the words are too much: too far, too long... so long... there's always delete. And start again. Paper is too forgiving, I've imagined how it feels: scribbled on, removed from, blotted out. And then discarded once I've been read, or not. I mean, how much paper is recycled that's never even been touched... till it's tossed into shredder to be reshaped, remolded, reconstituted... to become something else. How many poems are written that never even get read. At least words spoken out loud have a chance if screamed... or whispered... loud enough, to get heard. Yes, paper is too forgiving

38

so sick of the media hype got drones whatching over watching what you type, heard a runner for the big job say, if you were thinking about joining, the dark side, he'd **** you with a drone ray, no trial, no qualms, no lawyer, no Psalms, they'll **** you if it looks like you "might" get blood on your palms, who reads minds to see? when did we lose democracy? Since when did the land of the free, become the land of the huddling masses, and afraid, I'm not drinking the cool-aid. Media tells you what they want you to know, keeps you scared at night, so you'll go where they want you to go, so you buy what they want you to buy, fills our young minds with propaganda and mis-info, Wake up America, you still have rights, wake up America, it's not about blacks or whites, wake up America, land of brotherhood, don't trade your rights, for fabled comfort, from dark knights, stand up as brother and sister, stand up as Mrs. and Mr. and together make your voice be heard, before it's too late, before its too late, Is that a drone or is that bird? shhh don't speak so loud, you might be heard. (c) dm 2015

0

May 18, 2015

May 18, 2015 at 10:48 AM UTC

david-montgomery

So sick of the media hype

so sick of the media hype got drones whatching over watching what you type, heard a runner for the big job say, if you were thinking about joining, the dark side, he'd **** you with a drone ray, no trial, no qualms, no lawyer, no Psalms, they'll **** you if it looks like you "might" get blood on your palms, who reads minds to see? when did we lose democracy? Since when did the land of the free, become the land of the huddling masses, and afraid, I'm not drinking the cool-aid. Media tells you what they want you to know, keeps you scared at night, so you'll go where they want you to go, so you buy what they want you to buy, fills our young minds with propaganda and mis-info, Wake up America, you still have rights, wake up America, it's not about blacks or whites, wake up America, land of brotherhood, don't trade your rights, for fabled comfort, from dark knights, stand up as brother and sister, stand up as Mrs. and Mr. and together make your voice be heard, before it's too late, before its too late, Is that a drone or is that bird? shhh don't speak so loud, you might be heard. (c) dm 2015

41

A true friendship is quite rare As are the priceless memories you share The ones only you two can make They're a person you're 100% real with, no need to be fake & you'd be lost without them They're a one of kind gem No one could take their place Instead you'd rather just leave it an empty space You both share a bond so strong Even when things go a little wrong & of course they sometimes will Life won't always be so chill You won't always agree Eye to eye won't be what you see Which may start up a tiny fight over who's wrong & who's right Don't let it build up & build inside & stir Communication is always going to be key TRUST ME!! always do this It's by far better than getting lost in silence What you may notice Might be blurry to them & out of focus completely oblivious Nonchlant hints, unfortunately, they miss Whenever you've wandered away from yourself & who you are Your bestie won't let you wander too far A true friendship is worth repair Their life & wellness matter because you truly care You'll go through hell & back together Overcoming & living life side-by-side forever No matter what obstacles you encounter Making you both stronger & wiser after A friendship that's always going to be worth it Eachother you just get You're one in the same & glad they came Before you disappeared for good Leaving things misunderstood BUT, since words were written read & spoken ...the silence was BROKEN

0

Mar 1, 2015

Mar 1, 2015 at 11:48 PM UTC

becky-littmann

Loud Silence

A true friendship is quite rare As are the priceless memories you share The ones only you two can make They're a person you're 100% real with, no need to be fake & you'd be lost without them They're a one of kind gem No one could take their place Instead you'd rather just leave it an empty space You both share a bond so strong Even when things go a little wrong & of course they sometimes will Life won't always be so chill You won't always agree Eye to eye won't be what you see Which may start up a tiny fight over who's wrong & who's right Don't let it build up & build inside & stir Communication is always going to be key TRUST ME!! always do this It's by far better than getting lost in silence What you may notice Might be blurry to them & out of focus completely oblivious Nonchlant hints, unfortunately, they miss Whenever you've wandered away from yourself & who you are Your bestie won't let you wander too far A true friendship is worth repair Their life & wellness matter because you truly care You'll go through hell & back together Overcoming & living life side-by-side forever No matter what obstacles you encounter Making you both stronger & wiser after A friendship that's always going to be worth it Eachother you just get You're one in the same & glad they came Before you disappeared for good Leaving things misunderstood BUT, since words were written read & spoken ...the silence was BROKEN

41

What if sound was robbed, Held at gunpoint And smuggled away From me Into a duffel of contraband. What if songs became nothing? What would I Do? As the bus Bounces up and down, When the sun hasn't Yet stolen it's kiss. The window yields Bland scene And I would recognize The silence In the detestful Way I do When I forget the wires. What if his voice Was gone? Could I remember it? Could I fill in sound as his Lips moved, God All I'd ever see Would be lips. And I don't like mouths as it is. But maybe They'd be my new wires And my eyes would follow Their parted Movements, enamored. What if instructions were silenced And I was left to guess at What to do? Emergency situation Stealing my life away Because I couldn't hear Anything about The oxygen supply Above my head. I'd perish in silence. Would I speak? Or only write? Would I feel heard If I could barely fathom listening?

0

Sep 26, 2014

Sep 26, 2014 at 10:43 AM UTC

olivia-mccann

Sound Held at Gunpoint

What if sound was robbed, Held at gunpoint And smuggled away From me Into a duffel of contraband. What if songs became nothing? What would I Do? As the bus Bounces up and down, When the sun hasn't Yet stolen it's kiss. The window yields Bland scene And I would recognize The silence In the detestful Way I do When I forget the wires. What if his voice Was gone? Could I remember it? Could I fill in sound as his Lips moved, God All I'd ever see Would be lips. And I don't like mouths as it is. But maybe They'd be my new wires And my eyes would follow Their parted Movements, enamored. What if instructions were silenced And I was left to guess at What to do? Emergency situation Stealing my life away Because I couldn't hear Anything about The oxygen supply Above my head. I'd perish in silence. Would I speak? Or only write? Would I feel heard If I could barely fathom listening?

46