#selfknowing - Hello Poetry

Gently, my love When you stay up late combing your mind for pieces of rot Gently When you stare into ***** mirrors and scrub yourself raw Gently In a brash sea with your periscope on danger Gently Riding the crowd in the nose bleeds of opinion Gently, my love, Lean into the frisson Gently with grace Gently, My love. Gently with grace

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Nov 17, 2024

Nov 17, 2024 at 8:11 PM UTC

Xiola_Blue

In the nosebleeds of opinion

Gently, my love When you stay up late combing your mind for pieces of rot Gently When you stare into ***** mirrors and scrub yourself raw Gently In a brash sea with your periscope on danger Gently Riding the crowd in the nose bleeds of opinion Gently, my love, Lean into the frisson Gently with grace Gently, My love. Gently with grace

14

Undoing every punch Lock my voice inside a dial tone of conflicting passions Is it ok to cry? or should I call? It’s a curious thing when you let these buried phantoms master you They reappear and sweep you up into uncharted territories unknown As you sit and stare at their ghost of a memory Reflecting the dimensions of yourself Smiling happily knowing you have worked on yourself Dissecting the luminosity of your youth Naive innocence Still there No faded imagery or idea too far away to be.. Believed All is possible in the mirror of another world or so it seems…

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Dec 20, 2020

Dec 20, 2020 at 5:40 PM UTC

lanna-evolved

Invisible: Called a Curious Thing

Undoing every punch Lock my voice inside a dial tone of conflicting passions Is it ok to cry? or should I call? It’s a curious thing when you let these buried phantoms master you They reappear and sweep you up into uncharted territories unknown As you sit and stare at their ghost of a memory Reflecting the dimensions of yourself Smiling happily knowing you have worked on yourself Dissecting the luminosity of your youth Naive innocence Still there No faded imagery or idea too far away to be.. Believed All is possible in the mirror of another world or so it seems…

21

How could I even begin to convey to another how I truly felt? Perhaps the necessity to put into words is not needed. I sat and held hands with the molten honey, kissed the fire embers over and over, I did it. These people only exist in my mind as the raw emotion brought about by their raw emotion. Maybe my raw emotion is their raw emotion, or maybe not. Does it matter, I mean to say, is it necessary to know what the other felt? Maybe we all feel the same way all the time but we describe it differently. Maybe we feel completely different all the time and we try so hard to convince the other. I know this though. I feel a strange feeling that would look like a dark purple gem. I feel a slight sinking of the inner heart but the outer skin of my heart pulls up. It pulls up through my chest, up to the base of my throat. It manifests through my body to my eyes. This fury hides behind the ducts of my eyes. My heart is cold, my chest is warm, my eyes are tired. I can’t name it because a single name would be too broad. And when I think of Austin… The feeling intensifies to the point that I wish to weep. He passed away some time ago now. I can say that it hurts now because the front of my throat, the Adams apple, it feels like there is a weight connected and the weight is pulling down my throat into my stomach. With every breath I feel the same, with every blink I feel still. I miss my brother.

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Mar 19, 2018

Mar 19, 2018 at 2:37 AM UTC

TheyCallMeTrinty

I Miss My Brother

How could I even begin to convey to another how I truly felt? Perhaps the necessity to put into words is not needed. I sat and held hands with the molten honey, kissed the fire embers over and over, I did it. These people only exist in my mind as the raw emotion brought about by their raw emotion. Maybe my raw emotion is their raw emotion, or maybe not. Does it matter, I mean to say, is it necessary to know what the other felt? Maybe we all feel the same way all the time but we describe it differently. Maybe we feel completely different all the time and we try so hard to convince the other. I know this though. I feel a strange feeling that would look like a dark purple gem. I feel a slight sinking of the inner heart but the outer skin of my heart pulls up. It pulls up through my chest, up to the base of my throat. It manifests through my body to my eyes. This fury hides behind the ducts of my eyes. My heart is cold, my chest is warm, my eyes are tired. I can’t name it because a single name would be too broad. And when I think of Austin… The feeling intensifies to the point that I wish to weep. He passed away some time ago now. I can say that it hurts now because the front of my throat, the Adams apple, it feels like there is a weight connected and the weight is pulling down my throat into my stomach. With every breath I feel the same, with every blink I feel still. I miss my brother.

1