#movingaway - Hello Poetry

I painted his nails hot pink, called it a joke, but we both held on too long. He hummed my favorite song, two notes behind, like catching up was close enough. He carried me upstairs once — said I was light. I believed him. The polish chipped. We didn’t. Now, he’s a voice I scroll past, and somewhere, a pair of chipped pink nails he never scrubbed off

0

Jul 14, 2025

Jul 14, 2025 at 10:45 AM UTC

fishie

chipped pink nails

I painted his nails hot pink, called it a joke, but we both held on too long. He hummed my favorite song, two notes behind, like catching up was close enough. He carried me upstairs once — said I was light. I believed him. The polish chipped. We didn’t. Now, he’s a voice I scroll past, and somewhere, a pair of chipped pink nails he never scrubbed off

19

Grief isn’t always loud. Sometimes it sits beside you like an old friend who doesn’t need to talk to be heard. Sometimes, grief is not about what happened. It’s about what didn’t. The goodbye you never said. The hug you never got. The feeling of walking into a room and being known without having to explain a thing. You carry it in the way you walk, in the way your playlist has changed, in the way you write poems because there’s nowhere else to put the ache. But even this— this quiet grief— is a form of love. A way of saying “That life mattered. That version of me still exists. I remember.” And remembering is brave.

0

Jul 14, 2025

Jul 14, 2025 at 10:19 AM UTC

fishie

grief, quietly.

Grief isn’t always loud. Sometimes it sits beside you like an old friend who doesn’t need to talk to be heard. Sometimes, grief is not about what happened. It’s about what didn’t. The goodbye you never said. The hug you never got. The feeling of walking into a room and being known without having to explain a thing. You carry it in the way you walk, in the way your playlist has changed, in the way you write poems because there’s nowhere else to put the ache. But even this— this quiet grief— is a form of love. A way of saying “That life mattered. That version of me still exists. I remember.” And remembering is brave.

28

I am an immigrant lost in a foreign land. lost in the language. Abandoned in the promise of home. Sacrifice wells its tears in the eyes. Alone, further the thought sits in. The breaking of trust twists and turns in the chest. Not a soul to turn to. Not anything reminiscent of home. The thought of your name brand new. A place my dreams could roam free. Stuck in the anticipation of being a part of you. I've wandered the streets of your name. Ambition, now lost and afraid. Once eager to climb the ladder of your streets. In truth all of it was a dream. Your kiss now dried, now hallow. Your hand now chipped and flaked. I've told you my truths My dreams. You've turned a blind eye. Swallowing me in your cracks. Forever lost in the dark

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Aug 10, 2024

Aug 10, 2024 at 2:11 AM UTC

kewayne-wadley

Lost in the Promise of You

I am an immigrant lost in a foreign land. lost in the language. Abandoned in the promise of home. Sacrifice wells its tears in the eyes. Alone, further the thought sits in. The breaking of trust twists and turns in the chest. Not a soul to turn to. Not anything reminiscent of home. The thought of your name brand new. A place my dreams could roam free. Stuck in the anticipation of being a part of you. I've wandered the streets of your name. Ambition, now lost and afraid. Once eager to climb the ladder of your streets. In truth all of it was a dream. Your kiss now dried, now hallow. Your hand now chipped and flaked. I've told you my truths My dreams. You've turned a blind eye. Swallowing me in your cracks. Forever lost in the dark

26

and always you think you'd be better if you moved somewhere far away, or if your room was prettier, the windows bigger to let the sun in and the decor more elaborate than what you can afford, but in you, deep down, you know the ceiling has cracks, holes, and the walls are rotten and you 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 you are the only broken thing here.

0

Dec 5, 2020

Dec 5, 2020 at 8:21 AM UTC

yann

On Fleeing

and always you think you'd be better if you moved somewhere far away, or if your room was prettier, the windows bigger to let the sun in and the decor more elaborate than what you can afford, but in you, deep down, you know the ceiling has cracks, holes, and the walls are rotten and you 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 you are the only broken thing here.

8

I wanted And want Nothing more than to make you smile And know that you share that pure joy with only me But we both know I had nothing more to give you Because your staying in the sinking ship; Going down without a fight .. And I’m a swimmer

0

Apr 30, 2019

Apr 30, 2019 at 3:03 PM UTC

Hhowell9486

I love you, all the way down

I wanted And want Nothing more than to make you smile And know that you share that pure joy with only me But we both know I had nothing more to give you Because your staying in the sinking ship; Going down without a fight .. And I’m a swimmer

9

WALK THROUGH Awake at 4 AM in a dark and silent house There are ghosts and wraiths afoot in other rooms And chimera dance across the walls. Time has worn it’s foot steps into paths that lead the way From one space where the sun shines morning rainbows Through leaded beveled diamond glass To rooms with shadows in the silent corners of regret That fail to yield to hopes and promises of light. Walls newly shorn of photographs and art Stand in mute recrimination of the crime That robbed them of the proof that people prospered here. People blessed with messy lives that ricochetted like Pinballs through the good times and disasters. People who never learned to cheat but studied how to care, Who gave a measure and a half for a quarter measure’s pay. People who walked the narrow road until it ended in abyss And now they have to find a way to to finish out life there. The smell of tears still lingers in the lattice covered Meditation bower in a corner of the garden The little fountain proves unable to provide the only falling water And the tiny pet grave markers remain resting there in peace A bulky box with double doors commands most of the driveway And things too valuable to leave are prisoners inside. Clutter is trapped in cartons sealed with packing tape Or hidden in the cupboards no one dares to open. Untidyness moans softy in the newly emptied spaces And the dust no longer has a place to land. The winnowing is almost done and things will find new homes In a sad bazaar of letting go the past And turning to the East to meet the rising sun Where somehow in a diferent place they all will learn to dance. ljm

0

Aug 5, 2018

Aug 5, 2018 at 2:15 PM UTC

LoriJonesMcCaffery

WALK THROUGH

WALK THROUGH Awake at 4 AM in a dark and silent house There are ghosts and wraiths afoot in other rooms And chimera dance across the walls. Time has worn it’s foot steps into paths that lead the way From one space where the sun shines morning rainbows Through leaded beveled diamond glass To rooms with shadows in the silent corners of regret That fail to yield to hopes and promises of light. Walls newly shorn of photographs and art Stand in mute recrimination of the crime That robbed them of the proof that people prospered here. People blessed with messy lives that ricochetted like Pinballs through the good times and disasters. People who never learned to cheat but studied how to care, Who gave a measure and a half for a quarter measure’s pay. People who walked the narrow road until it ended in abyss And now they have to find a way to to finish out life there. The smell of tears still lingers in the lattice covered Meditation bower in a corner of the garden The little fountain proves unable to provide the only falling water And the tiny pet grave markers remain resting there in peace A bulky box with double doors commands most of the driveway And things too valuable to leave are prisoners inside. Clutter is trapped in cartons sealed with packing tape Or hidden in the cupboards no one dares to open. Untidyness moans softy in the newly emptied spaces And the dust no longer has a place to land. The winnowing is almost done and things will find new homes In a sad bazaar of letting go the past And turning to the East to meet the rising sun Where somehow in a diferent place they all will learn to dance. ljm

33

I left I gave you up I learned it hard Had to be tough But go untouched To grow unloved To blow too hard I needed to understand Why this is truth Why you weren't there And why I was too ...

0

May 26, 2018

May 26, 2018 at 7:22 AM UTC

treblejeff12

I Left

I left I gave you up I learned it hard Had to be tough But go untouched To grow unloved To blow too hard I needed to understand Why this is truth Why you weren't there And why I was too ...

12

Sometimes people cry Like when a friend moves away I'll see you soon Bray

0

Jun 14, 2016

Jun 14, 2016 at 2:23 PM UTC

guy-furniture

Someday

Sometimes people cry Like when a friend moves away I'll see you soon Bray

3

We dine on Tuna & Merlot red wine a single car's headlights shine traveling down a road so many stories untold you're selling your old flat in the Georgian house we all lived in back in the colorless nineties when the music was bad - Westlife, Take That, Spice Girls & everyone wore either black or blue it seemed, on this Island & your boys were still small & my family holidayed in Cornwall & I didn't yet know I could write poetry when you move away I shall be sorry to see you go

0

Aug 15, 2015

Aug 15, 2015 at 7:33 PM UTC

dreams-of-sepia

Neighbor

We dine on Tuna & Merlot red wine a single car's headlights shine traveling down a road so many stories untold you're selling your old flat in the Georgian house we all lived in back in the colorless nineties when the music was bad - Westlife, Take That, Spice Girls & everyone wore either black or blue it seemed, on this Island & your boys were still small & my family holidayed in Cornwall & I didn't yet know I could write poetry when you move away I shall be sorry to see you go

18

I need to go in a drive A long drive With loud music I'm too angry Too upset I need to get away from you. With your infuriating words Your backwards logic And your tendency to ruin the things most important. Because I can't do it anymore.

0

Jan 8, 2015

Jan 8, 2015 at 8:25 PM UTC

girlonthewing

Please make this stop

I need to go in a drive A long drive With loud music I'm too angry Too upset I need to get away from you. With your infuriating words Your backwards logic And your tendency to ruin the things most important. Because I can't do it anymore.

11