#tightness - Hello Poetry

Do you still love me like you once did? Im starting to feel like you don't. Where did those feelings fly off to? I want to change for you but I won't. Am I able to turn around and avoid a collision? If not we will be left with more careless aches. Is there enough courage inside these bones to be better? Still making the same stupid mistakes. Are you tired of my selfishness yet? I can tell you are by the tightness in your jaw. Didn't I warn you to stay far away? It seems my ice is too thick to completely thaw.

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Jul 8, 2018

Jul 8, 2018 at 1:22 PM UTC

AmandaKayBurke

Questions (Part 7)

Do you still love me like you once did? Im starting to feel like you don't. Where did those feelings fly off to? I want to change for you but I won't. Am I able to turn around and avoid a collision? If not we will be left with more careless aches. Is there enough courage inside these bones to be better? Still making the same stupid mistakes. Are you tired of my selfishness yet? I can tell you are by the tightness in your jaw. Didn't I warn you to stay far away? It seems my ice is too thick to completely thaw.

12

17/02/2020 Quite often, either joking or desperate, I wish more and more I could shoot my mind here and now for maiming me, my spontaneity and all my dignity. Whenever it brings me to a crisis – condemns my passions, rebellion, astrality, joyful freedom, innocence, love, irrationality and “thoughtset” – every place I come to sit, stand or just be at, becomes tainted, isolating, with miasma for air and like an eternally prolonging waiting room. Waiting for what? Probably redemption seeming out of reach at such moment Whilst amid the dark matters. Mostly sure that’s how Catholic purgatory would be like: ****** depression, no God, copper taste in the soul, tight space, condemnation, tower of pressure, no greatness to behold, no hope for another day to come.

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Jun 19, 2020

Jun 19, 2020 at 5:47 AM UTC

DanRo

Gioielli di Giornale #15

17/02/2020 Quite often, either joking or desperate, I wish more and more I could shoot my mind here and now for maiming me, my spontaneity and all my dignity. Whenever it brings me to a crisis – condemns my passions, rebellion, astrality, joyful freedom, innocence, love, irrationality and “thoughtset” – every place I come to sit, stand or just be at, becomes tainted, isolating, with miasma for air and like an eternally prolonging waiting room. Waiting for what? Probably redemption seeming out of reach at such moment Whilst amid the dark matters. Mostly sure that’s how Catholic purgatory would be like: ****** depression, no God, copper taste in the soul, tight space, condemnation, tower of pressure, no greatness to behold, no hope for another day to come.

35

Wasn't, not was... The tale of entertained innocence Speak of the devil, is all of a heed, a buzz? Long times with a pretty eye, that took on the proverbial since... Honey, and a summary land... Sent to a rhyming breeze? obscure was a noble they Venting irony for a risen dance? welcoming mercy at hand Baring the shall's comment to a calling? secrets with prettier eyes, may... Talking with the burden; so adroit, of a banal instinct...? Has focused another's eye on the problems of home... Heavenly couth or the curse of happenstance Has welcomed us, not the spoil of demand, but a wish becoming some... Wealth, versus wisdom In the pity, we fight like aristocratic futures... Found like a stricken conversation let, to complete and win Salvation of a peace; is ours for question we made, to purity... But, where, is the fun in that... Save your hug first, for a rolling presence of sharing a loyalty Simple as pie, a black bird has spilled the beans, a royal isn't... That is the cough of dependency, for a soul with or without, simplicity? Good morning, angel How was the nights resolve, sleepy philosophy till the end? You awoke when a silence was early, the hour given to little... Loves and daring decency, of a waiting hope, to make your liberty a host to render...? The patience you show, and the embarrassment of should? A showing live of simpler sorts, with the count of shadows... Persistent little cease and desist, approval of a nary come would Without a friend for hap, from here to eternity with a spoken said: Wishes that play the part Wishes that compare final luck, to a promise that seems to keep Wishes that rued the irony of poise, into two parts of art Wishes that sake a divine course for the breath of a season's leap Of succinct chances and flowers that gave the wonder of solitude... Somewhere, the poignancy of a shared idea, if not the dragon that made you... Is a weary hindsight, that has sat on the laurels of worth, like a shoulder Your care for these, meant and lent with virtue, has juice to please?

0

Jun 29, 2024

Jun 29, 2024 at 9:32 PM UTC

david-hilburn

Aunt's Misery, And Uncle's Kind Enough To Laugh?

Wasn't, not was... The tale of entertained innocence Speak of the devil, is all of a heed, a buzz? Long times with a pretty eye, that took on the proverbial since... Honey, and a summary land... Sent to a rhyming breeze? obscure was a noble they Venting irony for a risen dance? welcoming mercy at hand Baring the shall's comment to a calling? secrets with prettier eyes, may... Talking with the burden; so adroit, of a banal instinct...? Has focused another's eye on the problems of home... Heavenly couth or the curse of happenstance Has welcomed us, not the spoil of demand, but a wish becoming some... Wealth, versus wisdom In the pity, we fight like aristocratic futures... Found like a stricken conversation let, to complete and win Salvation of a peace; is ours for question we made, to purity... But, where, is the fun in that... Save your hug first, for a rolling presence of sharing a loyalty Simple as pie, a black bird has spilled the beans, a royal isn't... That is the cough of dependency, for a soul with or without, simplicity? Good morning, angel How was the nights resolve, sleepy philosophy till the end? You awoke when a silence was early, the hour given to little... Loves and daring decency, of a waiting hope, to make your liberty a host to render...? The patience you show, and the embarrassment of should? A showing live of simpler sorts, with the count of shadows... Persistent little cease and desist, approval of a nary come would Without a friend for hap, from here to eternity with a spoken said: Wishes that play the part Wishes that compare final luck, to a promise that seems to keep Wishes that rued the irony of poise, into two parts of art Wishes that sake a divine course for the breath of a season's leap Of succinct chances and flowers that gave the wonder of solitude... Somewhere, the poignancy of a shared idea, if not the dragon that made you... Is a weary hindsight, that has sat on the laurels of worth, like a shoulder Your care for these, meant and lent with virtue, has juice to please?

36

When I think of things Contiguously tight, I imagine lips, Pinched together till white. Stuff like waters meeting their shores, And the zig-zag stripes that zebras wear. Things close like skin around your bones, Or you wrapped in blankets, Snuggling at home. There’s space between the bark and trunk, And less between your nose and a skunk. There’s still less space between air and balloon, Frantically hissing as it zooms ‘round the room. Little distance lies between blindness and sight, When you hit the switch to light up the lights. Think of icing on cake, Paint on a wall, A pup in your arms, The ground if you fall. The line of horizon, A bandage on skin, Velcro and zippers, What’s out or what’s in. Consider toes on a soccer ball, Ten fingers on keys, Woollen socks warming your wintery feet. Space lies between your tongue and a treat, Or the branch holding tight Fall’s last clinging leaf. And yes. there’s some room Between your *** and your seat. What could be tighter, Or closer than these? Well, when she slyly cups her hands, And whispers in her sister’s ear (Secrets only she will hear) Then I start to understand There is no space Between best friends.

0

Jan 11

Jan 11, 2026 at 8:15 AM UTC

francie-lynch

Tight As Rain On a Window Pane

When I think of things Contiguously tight, I imagine lips, Pinched together till white. Stuff like waters meeting their shores, And the zig-zag stripes that zebras wear. Things close like skin around your bones, Or you wrapped in blankets, Snuggling at home. There’s space between the bark and trunk, And less between your nose and a skunk. There’s still less space between air and balloon, Frantically hissing as it zooms ‘round the room. Little distance lies between blindness and sight, When you hit the switch to light up the lights. Think of icing on cake, Paint on a wall, A pup in your arms, The ground if you fall. The line of horizon, A bandage on skin, Velcro and zippers, What’s out or what’s in. Consider toes on a soccer ball, Ten fingers on keys, Woollen socks warming your wintery feet. Space lies between your tongue and a treat, Or the branch holding tight Fall’s last clinging leaf. And yes. there’s some room Between your *** and your seat. What could be tighter, Or closer than these? Well, when she slyly cups her hands, And whispers in her sister’s ear (Secrets only she will hear) Then I start to understand There is no space Between best friends.

40