#tradgedy
you loved a boy
and he loved you
though he had loved before
or at least, had thought himself to love before,
this was wholly of a different kind
the love he had before didn’t feel like this.
true, it had started off with heat and sweaty hands,
as most loves do,
but then it lost its brightness and became cold,
something that ate away at the boy
and however much the boy offered
it took and took
and never gave
and wasn’t soft or kind
so the boy was left broken
in more ways than he ever told,
in more ways than he even understood.
but then you loved a boy,
a boy who was broken
and you were good, and beautiful, and true,
and your voice sang a love song that was only for him,
and your touch made him fear that his heart would break
in the most wonderful way
and the boy loved the girl
completely
this love was warm and soft
and air and breath and life and
more
all the boy wanted was to be
consumed by the girl
just to be closer to her
so that he was never apart
and then it was gone.
and the boy was confused
because this love hadn’t changed,
it hadn’t grown dim or dark,
it was soft and full and fire
and gone…
and it could not be the girl
because she loved the boy,
she had told him
In her honey whispers late into the night.
the boy knew her words were true
because she was good and true
and because she had saved the boy
then she was gone.
and the boy was left more broken than before,
the only thing left in the boys heart
was the horrible thought, that perhaps
he was not worthy of love;
and it was horrible,
because I believed it to be true
Jun 3, 2025
Jun 3, 2025 at 3:37 PM UTC
The building they lived in,
called home,
became their tomb,
became the weapon that broke
their bone,
took their lives.
But their stories have to
survive,
This City won't let you forget
about those
you were meant to protect.
I was actually looking for a room
but found myself
on the fiery streets
CRS batting the flames
as politicians took their seats,
business as usual
but the people stood in refusal
Feminists Familes and BlackBlok
Yellow Jackets Housing Groups
round the clock
only the holiday period
could douse the fires
and I went back to mother
the pressure smothered
How long is your attention?
Remember: this is a poem for the dead
For those who were crushed as they slept in their bed
Merry ******* Christmas
instead.
Aug 29, 2019
Aug 29, 2019 at 8:20 AM UTC
This feeling.
Weights in my stomach
Holding me down
My tongue has been cut
Ceasing the words
I want to say.
There’s nothing that’ll make me speak.
I’m
The
Only
One
Stuck knowing
The words you’ll never hear.
Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 12:32 PM UTC
how appropriate it seems
today is September 11th
16 years
and sitting in the aftermath
just
not quite the same
instead of
burned buildings
and
buried bodies
theres
concave structures as
waters recede
16 years difference
in different states
aftermath
one man made
full of hate
the other of nature
calm and powerful
the sensation of both
quite the contrast
trudging through snowflakes
of human ash
weathering wind
carrying livestock to high ground
one was a peaceful resoloution
as the winds whipped
the other
the weight of sadness
of lives lost
the passing of many souls
of which we do not know
the unknown
one was prepared for
the other
we could not
but on the day the hurricane left
we will never forget
that day
walking up canal street
the skies filled with red
Sep 11, 2017
Sep 11, 2017 at 4:02 PM UTC
And you set yourself on fire
(again, and again, and again.)
Because the feeling
is worth getting burned.
Because a life without feeling
that you have /lived/
is not much of a life at all.
Aug 12, 2017
Aug 12, 2017 at 10:15 PM UTC
There is no greater tragedy then
that which slips from our fingers.
Without reason or rhyme,
without tender goodbyes.
Your eyes filled with the sea,
your heart ebbs with the tide.
Those things that whisper soft,
that tickle the skin
and are lead by desire.
Fill dreaming minds, with lush waves
of the sweetest afterglow.
Any reasoning why, flew away
on the dark wings of the night,
and carry no weight.
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 3:32 PM UTC
I was flipping through some books that I got from a free pile.... some lovely literary titles.
In the back with a note with a quote from Robin Williams
"Please don't worry so, because in the end none of us have a very long time on this Earth life is fleeting. And if you're ever distressed cast your eyes to the Summer Sky when the stars are strung across the velvety night if a shooting star streaks through the Blackness, turning night into day make a wish, think of me, make your life SPECTACULAR! "
I can hear him saying that in a sincere yet.... comedic tone. Words like this above and the ones following just seem to always flow from his lips
" you're only given a little spark of Madness you mustn't lose it"
" Comedy is acting out optimism"
" People say satire is dead. Isn't dead it's just living in the White House."
" the Statue of Liberty is no longer saying 'give me your poor, you're tired, your huddled masses'- she's got a baseball cap and a bat yelling- you want a piece of me?"
" Time is the best teacher, but unfortunately, it kills all of its students"
"Never pick a fight with an ugly person they've got nothing to lose"
And finally...not by any favorite
"No matter what people tell you words and ideas can change the world"
All above quotes by Robin Williams
"I think Robin Williams was an amazing quick witted poet, an exceptionally gifted actor...because I'm not sure he was acting...and he was also a very shiny human being" - Cherie Nolan © 2016
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 6:21 PM UTC
Have you ever had it
where your heart feels
like it's all swollen up
and it's pressing into your throat
causing you to choke
and your blood
feels more like maple syrup
and you just want to curl up and cry
because your life
is turning into another
Teenage love tragedy.
Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 1:08 AM UTC