Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#dependency
You are the staple to my files The sewing of my skin The piercing of my flesh To hold what lies within You are the nails to my painting The stinger to my bee And when you were pulled out I was left to bleed You are the barbs to my fence The pin in my clothes The anchor to a rope And thorns under my rose You are sharp and cruel But without you, I crumble My threads all unravel And are left in a jumble
0
5d ago
May 29, 2026 at 12:55 AM UTC
Obligate Commensalism
The covers surround me, I'm encased in bed sheets. My pillow so wet in tears, As I drift away, To my little world. In my little world, You are there. My sweet. My beautiful. Friend? It doesn't matter what we are, As long as you're here. Recently - It's awkward. But you're still gentle. Still here. My view on you has really changed. Hasn't it? There's this small ember, A flickering, Flame of hope, Just like the one on your lighter. I cry to you. Among these serene, delicate fields. You listen. No one gets me as much as you. Is it really just forbidden love? You're not cruel, And I'm just relieved, To be trapped in your presence, In the miraculous, In the divine, I bathe in your light. But, It's all fantasy, The dread summons me, The grey pulls me out. I can't look you in the face. After that night, So I retreat, Away from your sight. You've filled my life with empty lies, Cigarette burns on my neck, They sting, Like your piercing cold stare. Once, You asked me, "what if i were the devil?" I hoped your kindness proved you wrong, Instead, You were right. I try to fill your space in my heart, Nothing fits as right, Nothing binds together, Nothing takes flight. This is my hell. You were right. In my little world, But no, Here, This is real. You're just rotten to the core. You have stabbed me in my very heart. That is when, My dear friends, I return to this little world, And hope to never return.
0
May 26
May 26, 2026 at 5:38 PM UTC
My little world
I always rely on you that I don't even know what's true. When you leave, I'll cry like it's grieve. I trust you too much I don't even know my life was gonna crush. I'm glad you're here, but it's like I'm intoxicated with no beer. I forgot how to stand up for myself. I forgot how to move by myself. I can't blame you, but I don't know if I can blame myself too. I'm a shadow, but my shape is what I don't know. What would happen to me if you move away? I won't find my own way. I'm already at my own downfall. Without realizing, I fall. I'm erasing my own independency for dependency.
0
May 22
May 22, 2026 at 11:48 AM UTC
"Beer"
you've tried to figure me out pull me apart and twist me around i let you try put my pieces aside it hurts but i'll never not want you around
0
Apr 7
Apr 7, 2026 at 6:00 AM UTC
untitled
My head is heavy Lifting up And floating is my soul. The nights been long Just like the texts I send so long ago. And while you're resting Eyes closed shut I'm picturing you whole. And while you sat And stayed a while I've just wanted to go. And I here I am At 3am And writing you a poem. The words never made sense to you But I just keep on going. So take my words God take my all But you're laying below him. And you never belonged to me So we'll just keep on flowing.
0
Mar 11
Mar 11, 2026 at 10:56 PM UTC
Insomniac
Sound rhetorically But honestly It's what I see Repeatedly you are to me Quite literally The apple tree When I am eve When i belief In sweet relief So full of grieve Not mine too keep But mine to leave To rot inside my heart
0
Mar 7
Mar 7, 2026 at 7:23 PM UTC
Your fingers leave me empty
When the lifeblood of our civilization stops flowing When the lights go out, when the screens go blank Then we will too late realize Just how dependent we have become On things intangible On the whims of so called Statesmen Or „Dealmakers“ as they are wont to be called On oil and gas that is plundered from the planet With no care for what follows or the damage done The investors flee to gold and silver Which they in turn, will realize Is of no consequence when you are hungry For it cannot be eaten The skills of our forefathers (and mothers!) we have lost Slipped away in the comfort of our digital age Where people who oversee our money (such as it is) That grows out of nothing on digital trees Are treasured more than those who help the poor or aid the dying The climate is a primary concern For those who thirst and hunger and burn But not for the Jet setters at Davos Or the oligarch owners of private yachts Of no concern are the burdens carried by children Who mine the gold and silver and precious things So that we may find fun and temporary contentment In such trivial things When the lights go out We will hear a sordid cry Of „help us – we cannot live without our phones“ Who cares about food, water, heat or shelter Without our social media we feel so alone! Who cares about peace when we can make money with war Or what are all these deadly weapons then for? If not to fill the pockets of those who have more than enough For those who suffer in the warzones – sorry that´s tough The screens are blank, no information The markets crash silently as no one can see them The digital assets disappear into the air from whence they came And the brokers and the bankers are called on to blame The route to McDonalds can no longer be found And millions may perish at the absence of sound In the temples of fast food throughout the land As the smartphone lies worthless there in their hand When the lights go out as they surely will We will all have to pay the bill Of blind ignorance and trust in a system That will eventually fail us in our infinite „wisdom“
0
Jan 25
Jan 25, 2026 at 6:12 AM UTC
When the lights go out
When the lifeblood of our civilization stops flowing When the lights go out, when the screens go blank Then we will too late realize Just how dependent we have become On things intangible On the whims of so called Statesmen Or „Dealmakers“ as they are wont to be called On oil and gas that is plundered from the planet With no care for what follows or the damage done The investors flee to gold and silver Which they in turn, will realize Is of no consequence when you are hungry For it cannot be eaten The skills of our forefathers (and mothers!) we have lost Slipped away in the comfort of our digital age Where people who oversee our money (such as it is) That grows out of nothing on digital trees Are treasured more than those who help the poor or aid the dying The climate is a primary concern For those who thirst and hunger and burn But not for the Jet setters at Davos Or the oligarch owners of private yachts Of no concern are the burdens carried by children Who mine the gold and silver and precious things So that we may find fun and temporary contentment In such trivial things When the lights go out We will hear a sordid cry Of „help us – we cannot live without our phones“ Who cares about food, water, heat or shelter Without our social media we feel so alone! Who cares about peace when we can make money with war Or what are all these deadly weapons then for? If not to fill the pockets of those who have more than enough For those who suffer in the warzones – sorry that´s tough The screens are blank, no information The markets crash silently as no one can see them The digital assets disappear into the air from whence they came And the brokers and the bankers are called on to blame The route to McDonalds can no longer be found And millions may perish at the absence of sound In the temples of fast food throughout the land As the smartphone lies worthless there in their hand When the lights go out as they surely will We will all have to pay the bill Of blind ignorance and trust in a system That will eventually fail us in our infinite „wisdom“
Continue reading...
47
Snowstorms A pirate's worst fear A soldier's worst fate A bird's worst season She's a storm. Revving beneath the surface Waiting to explode Into millions of shards Piercing No one left unscathed, Those are the times She smiles brightest Covered in a scent Metallic and horrid Yet in her eyes That's home Life feels most valuable When death is close to her— Everyone questions Her mechanics Yet I'm sure She is a storm Most alive When she's wild Untamed— My home, A stable place One always constant One immovable— In its madness Content, I'll sink Within that snowtorm Because I know— You'll take me in your arms, Unflinching, When my scars Begin to leak
0
Nov 11, 2025
Nov 11, 2025 at 10:29 AM UTC
A butterfly's song to the Ice queen
Who knew The seventh floor of hell Holds a view Of red roofs, A curl of saltwater, A distant tower crane, Baker over all. Molecules of Oxy and ethanol Fall from receptors. Blood levels plummet. Straight down to ground I gaze, Contemplate A fall to end it all, A plummet into grace? An end to suffering Forever. Through seven gates Flows Our self of such illusion. Best not to close those gates Oneself. The finger of time After all In but a blink Will flick them closed. Blessed then comes Reawakening of True Self, Remembrance of true birth, In the Timeless Realm Of a million gates, And no gates at all. And in seven days I learn to cut meat With a plastic fork And a plastic spoon.
0
Sep 19, 2025
Sep 19, 2025 at 10:12 AM UTC
The Number Seven
Sometimes I’m quick to say I don’t want you— and many other times I’m slow to say, stay with me. You know I’m a strong, powerful woman, but you also know I’m just a child. I grew up without a father. I don’t know how to love. I only know how to give myself and sink into a vicious cycle of love and dependency. Save me now, take me out of this sharp curve. I need to breathe, my love. Hold me in your arms— I need the warmth, the comfort, a sweet kiss with the taste of honey. Amen. You know I love to wrap myself in your legs, spread across the bed, with the scent of our love. Today was good, tomorrow will be better. Days of struggle are not the end of the story. With you… I want bossa nova.
0
Aug 29, 2025
Aug 29, 2025 at 6:50 AM UTC
Honey Song
Against life, we grew wiser Rooftop dancing at golden hour, Philosophising human nature. The music made us tougher, **** - supposedly smarter. Yet nothing cut greater than trusting her. // Risking safety to feel folly, Thriving in co-dependency - In between love and envy, She made me lonely. But our jaws and bellies both hurtful, I was thankful To laugh so freely, hide carelessly empty - We built a nest of sufficiency for what felt like a century. Still lonely, though Shamefully hoping one day she’d hate me so.
0
Jul 21, 2025
Jul 21, 2025 at 12:08 AM UTC
I now paint the flags red
I'm sorry, really. I hadn't meant to bother you by Messaging you everyday for a week, Each following one more frantic than the last, Because you wouldn't respond. I was scared. Really, really scared. Scared that you had done something to yourself... Scared that, maybe, you Stayed in bed too long Cut too deep Went too many days without eating Too many days skipping your meds- Or maybe, took all your skipped pills all at once--- It's irrational, I know. I'm sorry. ... I remember, I've done this before, I was... 10, it was 2020. I remember, my best friend, Kaydence, wouldn't respond to my texts for a month. We had fought, It was some stupid Minecraft game. And then, she just Stopped texting Back. I was lonely, it was quarantine after all, and I didn't have no one else to talk to. I texted her every single day Cried every single day. I was being dramatic, obviously, I'm always so **** dramatic. When she came back, she acted like nothing had happened. Her mom had just taken away her phone, or something. I didn't have to worry. ...I think that month I spent, alone, Thats when it had started to get bad. ... When you did respond, you told me that you were sorry. That you were alive. I think you understood where my worry came from. I asked you where you had been, and you said that you were just doing school and sleeping. It was another depressive episode. Oh, well. I feel bad to feel relieved, But It could've been worse. You could've Cut too deep Or stayed in bed Or skipped your meds Or taken too many... You could've Left me. I said sorry for being such a bother, Said that "I hope you feel better." And even though thats not quite right thing to say, But I think that's the closest I could've gotten.
0
Nov 24, 2024
Nov 24, 2024 at 8:57 PM UTC
Hadn't meant to bother
I'm sorry, really. I hadn't meant to bother you by Messaging you everyday for a week, Each following one more frantic than the last, Because you wouldn't respond. I was scared. Really, really scared. Scared that you had done something to yourself... Scared that, maybe, you Stayed in bed too long Cut too deep Went too many days without eating Too many days skipping your meds- Or maybe, took all your skipped pills all at once--- It's irrational, I know. I'm sorry. ... I remember, I've done this before, I was... 10, it was 2020. I remember, my best friend, Kaydence, wouldn't respond to my texts for a month. We had fought, It was some stupid Minecraft game. And then, she just Stopped texting Back. I was lonely, it was quarantine after all, and I didn't have no one else to talk to. I texted her every single day Cried every single day. I was being dramatic, obviously, I'm always so **** dramatic. When she came back, she acted like nothing had happened. Her mom had just taken away her phone, or something. I didn't have to worry. ...I think that month I spent, alone, Thats when it had started to get bad. ... When you did respond, you told me that you were sorry. That you were alive. I think you understood where my worry came from. I asked you where you had been, and you said that you were just doing school and sleeping. It was another depressive episode. Oh, well. I feel bad to feel relieved, But It could've been worse. You could've Cut too deep Or stayed in bed Or skipped your meds Or taken too many... You could've Left me. I said sorry for being such a bother, Said that "I hope you feel better." And even though thats not quite right thing to say, But I think that's the closest I could've gotten.
Continue reading...
60
I once checked into an old hotel that’s served guests for many a year. The white-clad staff will serve you well and greet you brimming with cheer. Its handsome brick and stone façade shines gold in the bright morning sun. Inside, the red velvet furnishings’ a nod to the lovers’ tall tales there spun. The rooms are filled with patchouli scent, or perhaps with a strong note of musk. At first you’ll easily make the rent and stay there from dawn until dusk. Oh, how well could I in that chamber sleep on starry fields of Elysium each night, my baggage packed in cotton I’d keep to stow it from whatever gave fright. But the longer this hospitality I had the more a locked hospital it became; the doors that’d welcomed this young lad soon rusted, harder to open again. I chatted with the friendly concierge and noticed the crease of his smile was curled into the quirk of a sneer while his light humor shifted to bile. The mattress that once was thick and soft grew coarse and lumpy with age while the vistas seen from the gilded loft were obscured by the bars of a cage. The red velvet’s colors began to bleed. All was gilded with the gold of fools. Once this hotel had for me filled a need — but it sought to make me its ghoul. This hostel had to hostile turned, its host was revealed as a warden. With time I learned its charms to spurn and escape to a greener garden. Even now that hooking hotel calls, a sultry siren who woefully wails and summons her guests — or thralls? — to deep sleep in her heavenly jail.
0
Nov 15, 2024
Nov 15, 2024 at 4:53 AM UTC
Hotel, hostel
I once checked into an old hotel that’s served guests for many a year. The white-clad staff will serve you well and greet you brimming with cheer. Its handsome brick and stone façade shines gold in the bright morning sun. Inside, the red velvet furnishings’ a nod to the lovers’ tall tales there spun. The rooms are filled with patchouli scent, or perhaps with a strong note of musk. At first you’ll easily make the rent and stay there from dawn until dusk. Oh, how well could I in that chamber sleep on starry fields of Elysium each night, my baggage packed in cotton I’d keep to stow it from whatever gave fright. But the longer this hospitality I had the more a locked hospital it became; the doors that’d welcomed this young lad soon rusted, harder to open again. I chatted with the friendly concierge and noticed the crease of his smile was curled into the quirk of a sneer while his light humor shifted to bile. The mattress that once was thick and soft grew coarse and lumpy with age while the vistas seen from the gilded loft were obscured by the bars of a cage. The red velvet’s colors began to bleed. All was gilded with the gold of fools. Once this hotel had for me filled a need — but it sought to make me its ghoul. This hostel had to hostile turned, its host was revealed as a warden. With time I learned its charms to spurn and escape to a greener garden. Even now that hooking hotel calls, a sultry siren who woefully wails and summons her guests — or thralls? — to deep sleep in her heavenly jail.
Continue reading...
40
In the fridge There sits the bottle of Joy Every Thursday She becomes my friend Every Friday She and I fight In the drawer There sits the bottle of Pain I try to keep it away But every Saturday I find it open In the bin There sits the bottle of Regret With its deafening yells Every Sunday morning Three Drinks and I are friends And then we fight And then we make up again.
0
Mar 31, 2024
Mar 31, 2024 at 2:00 PM UTC
Three Drinks
It was a hell of a day Sun and shade Chequered your face chess board And I was checked, Heady between sips of beer and silent like the smoke rising from your cigarette. It burnt ruby, and I thought of jewels And all the beautiful foolish things I would buy you, If we weren't here on a tuesday - Mid-morning. The awning weeps weary drops From the drain that hasn't been cleaned since the place opened. It has the colour of dark ale, I stare at the pale in my pint glass, think of the half a dozen things responsibilities and togetherness That could be part of us - But are sadly too vast for these shoulders. You hold out the yellowed filter tip Lined red with the colour on your lips Messily smeared - like it was done The night before - But I'd watch you adorn that **** With shaking fingers, Wobbly with all the worries of nothing And everything. You shift restless, pale arms stretched Across flaking bits of bench, drenched a weak grey by years and years of rain. I rearrange the ashtray And you smile at me, gap toothed and tired Vacant as the breeze just dancing through. 'I'm bored' your voice slurs, Like the thin trail of wine down your glass, The redness settles and colours the stem Colours your teeth. It'll taste sour if I kiss you, But I won't. I smoke. Exhale the burn, blast it to The clouds that creep across the sky Lazy like each blink. The world fades, Black then bright. Black the bright. I think there might be an epiphany in my lungs That song of something exciting. It dances with possibility and makes Me fidget in my seat Maybe Might be Could be Possibly. Expectation makes me shrink into my sweater all holes and broken stitches, that itch as I pass you the last bit. You smoke it, flick it And all the potential goes with it 'Do you want another drink?'
0
Apr 27, 2021
Apr 27, 2021 at 10:35 AM UTC
Pale Ale
It was a hell of a day Sun and shade Chequered your face chess board And I was checked, Heady between sips of beer and silent like the smoke rising from your cigarette. It burnt ruby, and I thought of jewels And all the beautiful foolish things I would buy you, If we weren't here on a tuesday - Mid-morning. The awning weeps weary drops From the drain that hasn't been cleaned since the place opened. It has the colour of dark ale, I stare at the pale in my pint glass, think of the half a dozen things responsibilities and togetherness That could be part of us - But are sadly too vast for these shoulders. You hold out the yellowed filter tip Lined red with the colour on your lips Messily smeared - like it was done The night before - But I'd watch you adorn that **** With shaking fingers, Wobbly with all the worries of nothing And everything. You shift restless, pale arms stretched Across flaking bits of bench, drenched a weak grey by years and years of rain. I rearrange the ashtray And you smile at me, gap toothed and tired Vacant as the breeze just dancing through. 'I'm bored' your voice slurs, Like the thin trail of wine down your glass, The redness settles and colours the stem Colours your teeth. It'll taste sour if I kiss you, But I won't. I smoke. Exhale the burn, blast it to The clouds that creep across the sky Lazy like each blink. The world fades, Black then bright. Black the bright. I think there might be an epiphany in my lungs That song of something exciting. It dances with possibility and makes Me fidget in my seat Maybe Might be Could be Possibly. Expectation makes me shrink into my sweater all holes and broken stitches, that itch as I pass you the last bit. You smoke it, flick it And all the potential goes with it 'Do you want another drink?'
Continue reading...
57
I never felt like I depended on you I kept my feet on solid ground We coexisted and took time to listen To our vastly different sounds But you learned how I take my coffee And all my favorite brands The little things that live between Our well-choreographed dance And before I knew it, you'd become A vital part of the song So now I misstep with uneven breath Because the notes are falling wrong
0
Mar 4, 2021
Mar 4, 2021 at 9:32 PM UTC
Composed
You were about to leave 3 words to make you stay It was a lie I forced myself to say Somehow you did believe Eyes so bright. I looked away Together for another second another minute, another day
0
Jan 30, 2021
Jan 30, 2021 at 5:41 AM UTC
Her Postponement
The Truth Part - III She always tell the truth to her friends It was them, where her trust depends She knew that everything has its end It was them, where her time should spend She's not yet done on the stage of insecurity, Knowledge won't fade but beauty She's on her way to maturity Beauty won't define her but humility
0
Sep 30, 2020
Sep 30, 2020 at 7:55 AM UTC
The Truth—part III
Wicked is your tongue Saying forgive me And I am sorry Love is poisonous From your mouth I feel tainted and alone Each touch that grazes my skin I wonder if I could just leave With you hand lingering in the air Tangled in my shadow Would you keep drowning In your insincerity Or would you finally realize You will never have me
0
Jul 14, 2020
Jul 14, 2020 at 10:39 AM UTC
Wicked