#lmr - Hello Poetry

I wished you on every shooting star and they burned my eyelids with their light

0

Oct 31, 2016

Oct 31, 2016 at 6:15 PM UTC

amazinglybadidea

indelible (haiku)

I wished you on every shooting star and they burned my eyelids with their light

3

I love you. This is an incontestable fact. You talk about how you want a real, strong connection with me, one where we talk a lot and are involved in each others lives, and I want to cry. Because I never thought I would hear you say that so bluntly, because I didn't think I was that important to you, because as capable as I am of giving and receiving love from so many people, you will always be special. I absolutely believe there are people we meet that are meant for us. As best friends, as guardians, as lovers, as the homes we build. I don't know which you are yet. I know what I want you to be- I can hardly see past what I want you to be, when half of my heart is still jagged and sobbing and in your unknowing hands. But I love you enough that if you would have me as a friend, I would smile a smile of porcelain shards that look like perfect white teeth to make you happy. I would dance the dance I've learned of the masks, letting you see my face but not enough to see me. I would sit next to you, and you would be the sweetest, sharpest thing my heart could hold, and I would hold you all the same. Because I love you. That is my incontestable fact.

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Oct 25, 2016

Oct 25, 2016 at 3:43 PM UTC

amazinglybadidea

fact.

I love you. This is an incontestable fact. You talk about how you want a real, strong connection with me, one where we talk a lot and are involved in each others lives, and I want to cry. Because I never thought I would hear you say that so bluntly, because I didn't think I was that important to you, because as capable as I am of giving and receiving love from so many people, you will always be special. I absolutely believe there are people we meet that are meant for us. As best friends, as guardians, as lovers, as the homes we build. I don't know which you are yet. I know what I want you to be- I can hardly see past what I want you to be, when half of my heart is still jagged and sobbing and in your unknowing hands. But I love you enough that if you would have me as a friend, I would smile a smile of porcelain shards that look like perfect white teeth to make you happy. I would dance the dance I've learned of the masks, letting you see my face but not enough to see me. I would sit next to you, and you would be the sweetest, sharpest thing my heart could hold, and I would hold you all the same. Because I love you. That is my incontestable fact.

2

you reach in with your grabbing fingers and rip fiber by fiber tear it out sever every last bit of my ******* ******* heart take it take it take it take it it was always yours

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Oct 22, 2016

Oct 22, 2016 at 6:09 PM UTC

amazinglybadidea

given freely

you reach in with your grabbing fingers and rip fiber by fiber tear it out sever every last bit of my ******* ******* heart take it take it take it take it it was always yours

9

my love fits in to the crook of my neck and the palm of my hand and the curve of my back my love fits in to all of my thoughts and most of my words and some of my days and my love knows when to hold me tight and grasp me hard and kiss me soft. *(there is no point. there is no punch. there is just this. there is just love)*

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Aug 11, 2016

Aug 11, 2016 at 11:41 AM UTC

amazinglybadidea

mouse

my love fits in to the crook of my neck and the palm of my hand and the curve of my back my love fits in to all of my thoughts and most of my words and some of my days and my love knows when to hold me tight and grasp me hard and kiss me soft. *(there is no point. there is no punch. there is just this. there is just love)*

16

i. I've never really believed those people that say we are made of stardust. but the constellation of bite marks you left across my chest might just change my mind. ii. I'm glad a shower is on my plan, because instead of me I smell like you. and don't get me wrong, I love the way you smell but it might drive me insane with longing. iii. being the one to leave in a way is easier. but please don't think walking away from you doesn't break me a bit every time.

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Jan 10, 2016

Jan 10, 2016 at 8:09 AM UTC

amazinglybadidea

the morning after

i. I've never really believed those people that say we are made of stardust. but the constellation of bite marks you left across my chest might just change my mind. ii. I'm glad a shower is on my plan, because instead of me I smell like you. and don't get me wrong, I love the way you smell but it might drive me insane with longing. iii. being the one to leave in a way is easier. but please don't think walking away from you doesn't break me a bit every time.

25

these words lie heaviest on my tongue, they weigh every other word down, color everything I say to you, threaten to leap off, inserting themselves where unwanted, unbidden, unasked and ungiven, and I won't free them because I

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Dec 27, 2015

Dec 27, 2015 at 4:23 PM UTC

amazinglybadidea

Love and Terror iii

these words lie heaviest on my tongue, they weigh every other word down, color everything I say to you, threaten to leap off, inserting themselves where unwanted, unbidden, unasked and ungiven, and I won't free them because I

11

I can't stop thinking about him. I'm on a plane, 9,682 meters above the world, literally thousands of kilometers away from him, and I can't stop thinking about him. the funny noises he makes, and the way he hugs me tighter like he isn't going to let go, and the way when he sleeps, he pulls his hood over his eyes so the whole world is kept at bay. "holy **** he said, waking up in the middle of the night. the melatonin stopped working because "my brain was like holy **** and I woke up." "mm. why did it do that?" "cause you're here." I miss the way he sticks his tongue out and his laugh and the way he says he's doing fantastic like it's his favorite word. I miss his hair and his tiny kisses and his nose and mouth against the back of my ear and his chest, so soft it should be a sin and that curve above his left shoulder, where I fit perfectly, he puts his arms around me and I feel like that's it, I'm home. the others, see, the others were fire. they were exciting and a little dangerous and always a risk. a small flirtation with tiny deaths, a dance to draw in and push out, keeping me always on my guard and dancing, dancing. I came out of those bruised and exhilarated, high on something drugs can't buy, exhausted and hungering. they kept me red. and he he is my blue self. he's earth, a blanket, a warm bed. safe whimsy, when I've danced over the line to danger so often, a place to rest on the sidelines. instead of a burning fascination, he's a sudden, knowing wish. I never saw those working out. when your fascination is fulfilled, where do you go? they were nice possibilities that got me through tough realities, but fire dies down and every dancer must tire. I can imagine it, though, this future, and I'm so much more cliché than I ever thought because oh man I'm terrified see, I'd only ever thought about him in passing, before two days ago. what if, my mind whispered. when I told him I'm not good enough for these things, I was softening my thoughts, the ones that always came after. I'm not- I can't stop thinking this, can't stop it from saddening me because I know- good enough for you. but I don't tell him this because he would tell me I'm wrong. no, he would say, this proves that you are. I almost said it, I whispered the softer version into his neck that night, half happier than I'd been in so long and half so heavy I was surprised I didn't sink through the beanbag into the floor, anchored in his arms. he wants me, and I? I want him and know he deserves more, deserves better and I'm having such a hard time convincing myself not to be selfish and go for it, grab his hand and run so far away there is no one else. or better yet, wrap myself in a fortress made of his arms and let him hold me to sleep. how did I get into this? how did I let this happen? how did I not know, not notice I love **** **** what have I done?)* love him until only two days ago? those three hours between when I realized and when he told me he wants it, too, were the hardest thing I've done in so long. exquisite pain, lying there next to him, terrified out of my mind of loving yet another friend to ruin. I'm still scared. but god, I would give so much, up here on this airplane, I would give up hours and days, I would give up minutes and memories, I would give up wokenness and sleep, again, just to be back in his arms.

0

Dec 19, 2015

Dec 19, 2015 at 9:04 AM UTC

amazinglybadidea

Love and Terror

I can't stop thinking about him. I'm on a plane, 9,682 meters above the world, literally thousands of kilometers away from him, and I can't stop thinking about him. the funny noises he makes, and the way he hugs me tighter like he isn't going to let go, and the way when he sleeps, he pulls his hood over his eyes so the whole world is kept at bay. "holy **** he said, waking up in the middle of the night. the melatonin stopped working because "my brain was like holy **** and I woke up." "mm. why did it do that?" "cause you're here." I miss the way he sticks his tongue out and his laugh and the way he says he's doing fantastic like it's his favorite word. I miss his hair and his tiny kisses and his nose and mouth against the back of my ear and his chest, so soft it should be a sin and that curve above his left shoulder, where I fit perfectly, he puts his arms around me and I feel like that's it, I'm home. the others, see, the others were fire. they were exciting and a little dangerous and always a risk. a small flirtation with tiny deaths, a dance to draw in and push out, keeping me always on my guard and dancing, dancing. I came out of those bruised and exhilarated, high on something drugs can't buy, exhausted and hungering. they kept me red. and he he is my blue self. he's earth, a blanket, a warm bed. safe whimsy, when I've danced over the line to danger so often, a place to rest on the sidelines. instead of a burning fascination, he's a sudden, knowing wish. I never saw those working out. when your fascination is fulfilled, where do you go? they were nice possibilities that got me through tough realities, but fire dies down and every dancer must tire. I can imagine it, though, this future, and I'm so much more cliché than I ever thought because oh man I'm terrified see, I'd only ever thought about him in passing, before two days ago. what if, my mind whispered. when I told him I'm not good enough for these things, I was softening my thoughts, the ones that always came after. I'm not- I can't stop thinking this, can't stop it from saddening me because I know- good enough for you. but I don't tell him this because he would tell me I'm wrong. no, he would say, this proves that you are. I almost said it, I whispered the softer version into his neck that night, half happier than I'd been in so long and half so heavy I was surprised I didn't sink through the beanbag into the floor, anchored in his arms. he wants me, and I? I want him and know he deserves more, deserves better and I'm having such a hard time convincing myself not to be selfish and go for it, grab his hand and run so far away there is no one else. or better yet, wrap myself in a fortress made of his arms and let him hold me to sleep. how did I get into this? how did I let this happen? how did I not know, not notice I love **** **** what have I done?)* love him until only two days ago? those three hours between when I realized and when he told me he wants it, too, were the hardest thing I've done in so long. exquisite pain, lying there next to him, terrified out of my mind of loving yet another friend to ruin. I'm still scared. but god, I would give so much, up here on this airplane, I would give up hours and days, I would give up minutes and memories, I would give up wokenness and sleep, again, just to be back in his arms.

11

I'm leaving my heater on tonight and it's all your fault, see, cause I haven't adjusted to how cold it is without you here and I keep shivering. You're a better heater than this machine. I need the noise, too, the whirr and hum, because it's raining and I can't stand the rain outside my window without thinking about you. "Holy **** listen" you would whisper and fling open the window and pause the movie and kiss me and I want that again I want you again I want you to be back I don't want this empty bed or whirring heater, neither give off as much warmth or make as nice noises as when you kiss me. (this poem might be pointless but I guess what I'm trying to say is thank you)

0

Jan 1, 2016

Jan 1, 2016 at 4:04 PM UTC

amazinglybadidea

the night after

I'm leaving my heater on tonight and it's all your fault, see, cause I haven't adjusted to how cold it is without you here and I keep shivering. You're a better heater than this machine. I need the noise, too, the whirr and hum, because it's raining and I can't stand the rain outside my window without thinking about you. "Holy **** listen" you would whisper and fling open the window and pause the movie and kiss me and I want that again I want you again I want you to be back I don't want this empty bed or whirring heater, neither give off as much warmth or make as nice noises as when you kiss me. (this poem might be pointless but I guess what I'm trying to say is thank you)

29