#myhead - Hello Poetry

you've changed. you're different. you're gone. of course, i miss the old you. ill admit it. i miss the little things: what you did, what you said, your personality.. i can't forget you or the memories you gave me. i can't forget, you're stuck in my head; the past you.

0

Aug 12, 2017

Aug 12, 2017 at 10:20 AM UTC

arielleoh

past you

you've changed. you're different. you're gone. of course, i miss the old you. ill admit it. i miss the little things: what you did, what you said, your personality.. i can't forget you or the memories you gave me. i can't forget, you're stuck in my head; the past you.

19

If i could make sense of these screams could you quiet them? Silence them like a billion violins with plucked strings Please end the ticks and static buzzes floating from neutron to atom to neuron to cell Just still my mind for once so i can end this Hell Let me be at peace with myself Then maybe I'll be able to accrue some kind of wealth Monetary or mentally im meant to be something, what exactly i don't know I hope i find out soon because this wild world is still very cold. -Neroamee_Alucard

0

Jun 15, 2017

Jun 15, 2017 at 10:49 AM UTC

neroameealucard

Senseless Screams

If i could make sense of these screams could you quiet them? Silence them like a billion violins with plucked strings Please end the ticks and static buzzes floating from neutron to atom to neuron to cell Just still my mind for once so i can end this Hell Let me be at peace with myself Then maybe I'll be able to accrue some kind of wealth Monetary or mentally im meant to be something, what exactly i don't know I hope i find out soon because this wild world is still very cold. -Neroamee_Alucard

9

"Come on page, where do the words fit?" In the puzzle that is my brain, i ask as at The table i sit My hairs have split, like cheap ****** Remy But then again maybe my idea bulb isn't lit. "Come along pen, why can't you write?" We've been up with this piece since last night I ask myself again, this is really starting to frighten me, i know i might be pressuring myself too much, But that's where the best moments come from, in the clutch. "Come on heart, where's your spark? You usually flutter in the act of creating art!" But alas no wings flapping, and no adrenaline rushing like a spotted chameleon Just stone faced cynicism like a gremlin

0

Mar 22, 2017

Mar 22, 2017 at 11:25 PM UTC

neroameealucard

Pressure

"Come on page, where do the words fit?" In the puzzle that is my brain, i ask as at The table i sit My hairs have split, like cheap ****** Remy But then again maybe my idea bulb isn't lit. "Come along pen, why can't you write?" We've been up with this piece since last night I ask myself again, this is really starting to frighten me, i know i might be pressuring myself too much, But that's where the best moments come from, in the clutch. "Come on heart, where's your spark? You usually flutter in the act of creating art!" But alas no wings flapping, and no adrenaline rushing like a spotted chameleon Just stone faced cynicism like a gremlin

12

If I had something inspiring on my mind don't you think that I would've written it by now I love being a writer but sometimes it gets me down The pressure escalates like the water in the everglades to top myself, like pulling miracles out of my head is a miraculous act I can't turn water into wine And I can't turn stacks of hay into clever punchlines I guess what I'm trying to say, like Dr. Mccoy is that I'm a writer not a magician I can only take what myself and others have gone through, and turn it into something relatable, that maybe just maybe someone will take something positive out of what was written

0

Aug 25, 2016

Aug 25, 2016 at 12:25 PM UTC

neroameealucard

If i had

If I had something inspiring on my mind don't you think that I would've written it by now I love being a writer but sometimes it gets me down The pressure escalates like the water in the everglades to top myself, like pulling miracles out of my head is a miraculous act I can't turn water into wine And I can't turn stacks of hay into clever punchlines I guess what I'm trying to say, like Dr. Mccoy is that I'm a writer not a magician I can only take what myself and others have gone through, and turn it into something relatable, that maybe just maybe someone will take something positive out of what was written

6

I can only play the hand I was dealt So no I'm not sorry for what I've felt Life is nothing short of a gamble And I know I tend to ramble I'm just making the most of what I've got Seeing if you're interested or not Because I find you rather amazing I'm really not the best with the phrasing I'm a little old fashioned With how I express my passion Though if you would take the time To converse with me past the rhyme I'd hope you'd come to see There's a whole lot more to me Than some scattered paper and ink Allow me to show you how I think It's a little crazy and far-fetched Enough that I often get shipwrecked I blur my reality and dreams Still don't quite know what it means But with the woman I see Could you really even blame me? I can't imagine anything better Though I fear the day she reads this letter

0

Jul 24, 2016

Jul 24, 2016 at 9:31 AM UTC

jack-ghaven

Old Fashioned

I can only play the hand I was dealt So no I'm not sorry for what I've felt Life is nothing short of a gamble And I know I tend to ramble I'm just making the most of what I've got Seeing if you're interested or not Because I find you rather amazing I'm really not the best with the phrasing I'm a little old fashioned With how I express my passion Though if you would take the time To converse with me past the rhyme I'd hope you'd come to see There's a whole lot more to me Than some scattered paper and ink Allow me to show you how I think It's a little crazy and far-fetched Enough that I often get shipwrecked I blur my reality and dreams Still don't quite know what it means But with the woman I see Could you really even blame me? I can't imagine anything better Though I fear the day she reads this letter

24

In my head, I see things. What do they mean? What do they want? Should I stay? Should I run? The doctors try, To understand. It has been, Seven years. In my head, I get lost. In my head, You get lost. Just leave, My head, Alone.

0

Oct 25, 2014

Oct 25, 2014 at 10:11 AM UTC

RememberingThePast

In My Head

In my head, I see things. What do they mean? What do they want? Should I stay? Should I run? The doctors try, To understand. It has been, Seven years. In my head, I get lost. In my head, You get lost. Just leave, My head, Alone.

17