#illhueminati
Love comes in like the hustle and bustle of the busy New York streets in the A.M.
(It got lost in the shuffle)
Love comes in swiftly and decisively because there is no time to waste in Los Angeles.
(Sorry it's a little late)
Love comes in as soon as the tides on the beaches of New Orleans recede back to their origins
(Don't get swept away)
Love comes in just as loud and equally as soft as a thunder cloud laying above Memphis.
(No need to fear)
Love comes in and slips away as quickly as it arrived from its final destination:
The Heart
Love came in and love left. It was always a traveler and could never stick around too long before yearning for a new city.
Dec 31, 2016
Dec 31, 2016 at 12:40 PM UTC
Nothing is wrong.
but you act like
it’s something that we should talk about;
I have to tell you that
this is not true.
I am perfectly fine.
I smile and say,
“What will happen will happen,”
because that’s the way life works.
There is pain
but that ends quickly.
As I look at the mirror, I feel awful;
I fear not being with you.
These nightmares are the reason
there shouldn’t be anything to be afraid of.
It is never true that
handling these well of emotion is difficult.
I have always found that
it is easy to be calm,
I hate when you tell me
I am not the same anymore.
(now read from bottom to top)
Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 6:15 AM UTC
**“The sun died every night
just to let the moon breathe.”**
I shivered, as whispered screams and silent pain of fragmented hearts
Pierced through the atmosphere of comfortable lies and prison bars
Looking down upon streets filled with hushed crying in locked cars
******* the words “I’ve been left” in my palm filled with glass shards
I am looking at the moon, and I am reminded that there is still someone
That touches my soul and feeds me emotions when I thought I had none
I am looking at the moon.
It is 2:58 am and I am writing this to expel your fingerprints from my body
Because your being has covered my skin with memories of love and beauty
The dead beating of my heart cannot forget how it felt when you came near
How the mere mention of your name caused my eyes to only see you clear
I am looking at the moon, with its silver skin, gleaming light and mesmerizing craters
And I am reminded of what we were, how we were beautifully imperfect chapters
I am looking at the moon, again.
It is 3:15 am and I am still trying to forget how a love so beautiful can crumble
My heart’s still pumping blood that seems to heat when your image tumbles
We were something real; we were lost fingertips that found home in each other’s palms
But time was too weak to grasp a love so soft, a love that resembles seas that were calm
You were the moon and I was an ocean, and I willingly let you pull at my veins
Causing a tidal wave of memories and unspoken words that left me insane
I am looking at the moon, still.
It is 3:41 am and I am still thinking about your hands and how they held an atlas
How you memorized maps of my surface and how beautiful things don’t really last
We were something beautiful and true and something that was bound to break
Our love was a forest of mixed rose bushes and thorns that time wanted to take
But don’t worry about me, the moon still listens, its light still glistens on my scars
And I can close my eyes knowing that you and I still cry under the same moon.
So I will look at the moon, for as long as needed,
until your hands
aren’t my home
anymore.
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 3:08 AM UTC
there's still blood on the floor
and my heart is still broken
Jul 11, 2015
Jul 11, 2015 at 8:30 PM UTC
the biggest mistake i have ever made is not trusting someone when i should have- because maybe when i would have trusted someone, i wouldn't be like this; sad and alone.
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 6:06 PM UTC
I am so sick of holding on to things that have no grip that slip out of my fingertips like dust like when you told me your back doesn't bend sideways and you swore my hands were your favorite thing. and I believed you. because you have a way of saying things that seem like they will last forever but they always end up fading away like your whispers .. or your touch. and you swore to me that my voice was the only thing that kept you apart when your spine was the only thing holding you together you should've told me you felt like snapping like twigs in a forest dry and brittle because they have nothing holding on to them giving them life and baby you should've never told me that you are dead. that you've been dead for years now and you've given me a piece of you to hold on to baby you should've told me you are a ghost.
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 10:48 PM UTC
His lips are clean
Of coffee breath
And cigarettes
His hands are clean
From holding hands
And one night stands.
His shoes are clean
Of ***** stains
From liquor chains.
Yet his tongue,
Indulged in lies
Promises turned into goodbyes.
His mind is a clutter
His lips have uttered
Names of girls who do not matter.
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 11:41 AM UTC
... is when you're deliriously tired, your eyelids heavy and hanging over your orbs like curtains containing the summertime heat.
... is when you've just met the one who lights your skin on fire with a single kiss and fills you with life unlike any other.
... is when you've finished your last drink and you're sitting alone in your bed wondering where your life will turn next.
... is when you're standing in the shower and all of the thoughts of the day come rushing to your brain like the heat of the water on your back.
... is when you feel you have nothing to say, and even your bones are hollow.
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 10:48 PM UTC
we've all waited for something
or even someone at one point of our lives
there are a few kinds of waiting
we've all gone through
the wait we go through
while waiting for a bus, a train,
or even for the cake in the oven
to be done ,
for your favourite tv series,
for your best friend's birthday,
or your anniversary with your loved one
this is the kind of wait where we know
what we're waiting for will come to us
pain won't exist in the process of this wait
because we are sure that the wait will be over
sooner or later
dates of the days we marked down
on the calendar or
times of the days we set a reminder for
in our phones
they are constant and there forever
there's another kind of waiting
that we all have gone through too
at some parts of our lives
the kind of wait we go through while
waiting for our lives to get better,
or waiting for our loved ones
while they are fighting for
their lives in the emergency room,
or for the one you love who
left you a long time ago
to come back,
or for a second chance
this is the kind of wait
where no one knows when
will the waiting ever end
the kind of wait where it
might not even have an end
going through this breaks your heart
day by day
you start to question and wonder
when will this end?
will this even end?
even though not knowing of how
things might come to an end
we still wait like this because of
the hope we are still hanging onto,
holding onto for our lives because
if we were to ever let go,
we'd fall down and usually
the fall hurts
but what if,
what if the first kind of wait
turned into the second one?
what if,
your best friend never
makes it to her birthday
because all this time she
stayed up late was to
fight away her demons that
won her in the end
what if,
your anniversary no longer exists
because you found that
all the texts that read
"not coming home for dinner,
pulling an all-nighter in
the office to finish the assignments"
actually meant
"not coming home for dinner,
staying over in her house to finish what
we didn't last night"
you realize that
all the "i love you's" you've
ever told them in the
form of messages
were being read by them
on someone else's bed
or being read by someone else
who eventually deleted the text
after reading it
what if,
what you've been waiting for
never comes even when you were
so sure that it would?
in the process of waiting
the minutes,
hours, days, years
we spent waiting for what
we thought we knew would come
can turn into
hours, days and years
of the longest wait
for what we thought
we would never lose
and the days we marked down
on our calendars,
the times we set a reminder for
on our phones,
will still be constant
because the earth will still spin
in the direction
it always had
everything may still look
the same as it always was but
little do we know,
everything is slowly changing
and when we look back
we will realize how different
things actually were
time is a disability,
that blinds us from reality
time is a thief,
that takes away what's precious to us
time is a murderer,
killing us with each second we've
spent on waiting.
-a.l.
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 11:28 AM UTC
SHE’S TRAPPED IN A PLACE
WHERE DARKNESS DEVOURS HER,
GRASPING A SHOVEL
WITH BOTH OF HER BRUISED HANDS,
DIGGING A HOME
FOR HER SOUL TO REST AGAIN.
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 3:38 AM UTC
i'm trying to break the barriers between us,
but my voice isn't loud enough;
scream with me, have faith.
before it's far too late..
before the walls consume us and silence us
for a longer time than we expect...
before i drown myself in the pool of our lost memories,
i'd rather have the walls swallow me.
before i fall apart at the seams
just like the first rose you gave me that withered,
i'd rather let you leave numbly.
before the immortal stillness starts to drip down my neck,
and i'll begin to hear my own cells
crack at the cry of your name...
before the raindrops, the exact replica of my tears,
fall on the ashes of our crowded memories
that are no longer familiar...
before my heroine turns to ******
before the offsprings of spring decide to kidnap me,
before the hands on the clock choke me...
before my heartbeat turns into electric shocks that fail to revive me,
before the stars in my eyes burn out faster than us...
leave me. leave me numb, alone, unaware.
my body ran out of red, now i'm bleeding hues while waiting for you.
you dug my own hole, you smothered my soul.
they warned me about how you had a habit
of running your thumb against others' lives,
but i wont let you touch mine.
my existence will not be smudged by yours;
leave, before you take over me completely.
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 8:24 AM UTC
i have no motivation
no inspiration
no creation
nothing at all
something within me stirs
and i have to find a way to let it loose
but i have no motivation
no inspiration
no creation
nothing at all
it's killing me from the inside out
and i don't think i can take it anymo--
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 6:54 PM UTC
i can't always tell you how i feel
yet you ask me anyway
but my voice is weak
and my words are choking me
i can't feel my fingertips
and truthfully
all i desire is a kiss from your lips
and your hands to warm mine once more
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 2:31 PM UTC
i was thinking of you
(like always)
and how badly you struck me
that I tend to forget
the pain you have caused my heart
i admit i was hurt
but please, keep me down
under your great avalanche
walk me down inside the eye
of your storm
in between the bursts of lava
and in the tiny heart attack
of you missing a step
i want to be frozen
forever
inside the idea of us
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 5:25 AM UTC
Looking at you
I cannot help but think
That the stars made love
And gave birth to you
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 9:01 AM UTC
I feel them in your eyes
Alpha and Omega
love, come by tonight
the moon and stars
will shine brighter
sing me goodnight
with your absence
I won't sleep tight
Thoughts of you
Alpha and Omega
flooding my mind
creating hurricanes
of missing you
and i can't get your
voice out of my head
Alpha and Omega
where you are is my home
Alpha and Omega
my nothing and my all
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 11:27 AM UTC
i'm screaming under the layers of sounds;
i don't know where they're coming from,
but they keep pointing at my broken heart.
the edges of this glass-piece contraption between my lungs
sing like static against my rib cages,
muting the sound of the words i've been aching to say.
the sound of the tearing resonates relentlessly like the rain,
and there is comfort in the sound,
but it feels heavy in my chest
like the apologies that rotted in your throat
before you could tell me everything.
i'm screaming under layers of sounds;
i don't know where they're coming from,
but they keep pointing at my throbbing head.
the thoughts that rage sound like breaking glass,
and they create shipwrecks in my calm mind.
the words that you said still bombard the walls of my skull,
carving every sentence that i wanted to hear from you,
but never dared leave your mouth.
perhaps i'm going crazy, but at least feel a tad bit honored
that the way my head spins
is all caused for and by you.
i'm screaming under layers of sounds;
i don't know where they're coming from,
but they keep pointing at you.
you used to be my symphony, my only melody,
but you left me a broken note and a crooked key.
the parts that you planted your kisses on
decided to sound like raging storms and sirens.
the way your fingertips trickled down the line of my back
used to echo the song of the stars,
but now they hum the world's saddest tunes.
you buried me beneath these sounds, and not even i can hear my soul.
Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 7:49 AM UTC
(was i the one who stopped time or was that the girl before me?
was i the one who donated a thousand butterflies to your insides or was that the girl before me?)
was i the one who sowed the sun into your eyes or did the girl before me have more skillful hands?
(was i the one who buried your grief, your pain, your hopelessness, or did the girl before me dig deeper?)
was i the one who swallowed your sadness to the pit of my stomach and kept it there or did the girl
before me swallow an ocean?
(was i the one who made your thoughts come alive in the night or was the girl before me a better playwright than i?)
was i the glittery diamond that caught your eye amongst the rubble or did the girl before
me have a sparklier dress?
(was i the one who healed your aching heart or did the girl before me have more tender hands, a soothing voice and a better elixir?)
was i the one who you wanted to heal so desperately or did the girl before me shatter into more
pieces than you could carry?
(were my arms the place you called "home" or were the girl before me's arms more delicate yet able to hold you closer to her heart?)
was i the one who set your heart on fire or was the girl before me a more reckless arsonist?
(was i the one who placed your head in the clouds or was the girl before me already a haven?)
was i the one who taught you what hell felt like or did the girl before me have the hands
of the devil?
(was i the one who unfolded the meaning of life to you or was the girl before me a better philosopher?)
was i the one who taught you how terrible death is or did the girl before me's suicide note
have more tragic poetry?
(was i the one who made your voice sore from screaming for me to come back to you or was the girl before me more desirable?)
was i the one who made your hands shake or was the girl before me a little less of a hurricane
and more of an earthquake?
(was i the one who shattered your soul on the marble floor or was the girl before me's strength more tempting to give in to?)
was i the one who left bloodstains on your carpet or did the girl before me have lipstick that
was quite a convincing red?
(were you glad your nightmares stopped with me or did you secretly enjoy them because they reminded me of the wild nights you shared with her?)
(G.S. ) (N.N.)
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 8:59 AM UTC
she was not just a girl
she was a girl beyond words, beyond understanding
someone who made your heart beat yet made you feel like you have lost your bloodflow and that you are dying
she's a supernova shining brighter than every sun and blinding you with her light that you don't realize that with her next exhale, she would be a blackhole and you would be stuck inside her void
she's your dream slowly turning into the most frightening nightmare
the brightest and warmest day with the coldest and darkest night
she is my home, plagued by ghosts and monsters and i just can't leave because I'm sentimental and she meant the world to me
she's the cruel sunlight when you were hoping you would die in your sleep
she's secondhand smoke when you're trying to quit
she's storms, a raging tempest, a calm sunny day with a follow-up of clouds and gloomy days
she's passion and pain and glory and sacrifice and everything painful in your chest
and she's the fear of letting go but slowly losing your grip
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 9:28 AM UTC
poetry
is the ability
to strike someone once
and have the sound resonate
inside them forever
prose
is describing the sound
with more resonances
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 6:56 PM UTC
How outrageous it was
that the world refused to stop
Even for a moment
To give a person
one more reason
For their world to turn
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 2:29 PM UTC