#whiplash - Hello Poetry

I turned longing into an art form even poets couldn’t envy. You said I loved the pain, like I twisted every wound into a crown, like I begged to be ruined. You told me you’d **** me around, said it like a warning, but I heard it like a promise I wanted you to break. I had a picture of us in my head— me, softer, more hopeful, you, more beautiful than you knew, with wild hair and laughter that felt like home. I still think of your hands, hands that never held me, but left marks all the same. I wonder where they are now, whose skin they’ve mapped, what laughter they’ve tangled with— and if they still carry the echoes of me, whispering between the spaces they touch. Now, every poem I write is a bridge I burned, trying to reach you— but the ashes are all I have left. I’ve gotten prettier, you know— in the way scars fade but never really leave, short skirts, boots up to my knees, hair spilling like rebellion. But still, the ache follows. I want you to see it— to scroll past my pictures and feel the smallest sting, to wonder if I’d still let you kiss me if you came back— but would I want you to?

0

Nov 18, 2024

Nov 18, 2024 at 5:25 AM UTC

Kiernan515

The Art of Longing

I turned longing into an art form even poets couldn’t envy. You said I loved the pain, like I twisted every wound into a crown, like I begged to be ruined. You told me you’d **** me around, said it like a warning, but I heard it like a promise I wanted you to break. I had a picture of us in my head— me, softer, more hopeful, you, more beautiful than you knew, with wild hair and laughter that felt like home. I still think of your hands, hands that never held me, but left marks all the same. I wonder where they are now, whose skin they’ve mapped, what laughter they’ve tangled with— and if they still carry the echoes of me, whispering between the spaces they touch. Now, every poem I write is a bridge I burned, trying to reach you— but the ashes are all I have left. I’ve gotten prettier, you know— in the way scars fade but never really leave, short skirts, boots up to my knees, hair spilling like rebellion. But still, the ache follows. I want you to see it— to scroll past my pictures and feel the smallest sting, to wonder if I’d still let you kiss me if you came back— but would I want you to?

37

Unknowingly, I waited years, It took sixteen, but the fears I grew with of not finding out What love is I now go without. Since I felt your simple affection I appear alive, my life has direction, You showed me with you I don't have to be afraid, With your help I've finally unbuilt this barricade. I have grown dependent upon your strong arms, Feel incomplete without familiar charms, What would I do if I didn't have your embrace? Your touch impossible to replace. Love changed my life in a flash, So quickly it caused whiplash, It knocked my heart off-track, askew, Now I am whole, because of you.

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Jun 14, 2018

Jun 14, 2018 at 6:52 AM UTC

AmandaKayBurke

I Am Whole Because Of You

Unknowingly, I waited years, It took sixteen, but the fears I grew with of not finding out What love is I now go without. Since I felt your simple affection I appear alive, my life has direction, You showed me with you I don't have to be afraid, With your help I've finally unbuilt this barricade. I have grown dependent upon your strong arms, Feel incomplete without familiar charms, What would I do if I didn't have your embrace? Your touch impossible to replace. Love changed my life in a flash, So quickly it caused whiplash, It knocked my heart off-track, askew, Now I am whole, because of you.

16

The torrential wind blew my brain around my neck, Like a whiplashed skewer, Crooked and bending in ways wood should not.

0

Mar 19, 2018

Mar 19, 2018 at 10:24 PM UTC

kathrynrose

Scrambled Eggs

The torrential wind blew my brain around my neck, Like a whiplashed skewer, Crooked and bending in ways wood should not.

3