Bipolar Hypocrite,
First, let me just say,
Everytime I see your *name
It brightens my day
I've read a *LOT of your poetry
I can't say I've read them all
But I Will get to them eventually
My amount of *free time is small
I'm sorry I don't have the time
To write a long drawn out essay
About how your poetry really speaks to me
But to you, I will simply say:

I'm sorry for the sadness you've felt
I truly know how hard life can be
But I'm so glad you found an outlet in writing
And that you continue to share your poetry
I thank you for that, all your comments on mine as well
Please, remember that you've touched at least one girl
I'll be here if you'd ever like to chat or vent
I can also promise, you WILL
find your happiness in this world

I'm so glad you've found a place here on Hello Poetry
Never Forget you're amazing
And that you have made an impression on me.

PS. I know how you love my italics and bold, I figured to use them, hope it's not getting old. :)


Lots Of Love,
*Melz

I dance,
Because I have to.

For the love of dance?
Hell no.
For the love of the examiner.

My teacher's words,
Screaming constantly into my ears.
What I was doing was wrong,
I would never get points for that.

Smile, not for the audience,
But because the examiner doesn't like
Glum faces.

Oh whatever happened,
To the true meaning of Dance?

I don't know.
It's gone,
just like my happiness,
and hopes,
of being better.

My jumps are not filled with beauty,
but sweat.
My pointe work does not look amazing;
It looks tiresome.

Is there ever going to be a day,
When exams don't matter?
No.
Never.
It will forever count
As my life.

People think I have a choice-
I don't.

I can't dance without being judged;
Heck, dancing is nothing without judgement.
Beg for mercy?
Never.
I'm not weak.

Yes, ballet, to me, is like war
Between me and my teacher,
or maybe me and everyone who thinks otherwise.

I'm nearing my Waterloo,
but I won't surrender yet.

But, maybe I have.

I have been brainwashed.
All I want now is good grades.
A distinction.

I don't love dance,
I do it for everyone else who does.

If you look closely,
You can see my tiresome face,
but soulless eyes.

No one understands,
what I’m trying to say,
so I stop trying.

Yes, I've given up.

I don't dance for myself,
I dance for the examiner.

they're nothing but glorified bus drivers*,  said my father after i told him i wanted to become a pilot.

the opposite of love is not hate, but contempt.

what causes the kodachrome to fade little by little to grey? is it really bred of familiarity. the wear of gradually learning the truth about somebody. the minutiae of the everyday sanding away at the idealised, sculpural dream.

or is it triggered rather by the dull shock of an identifiable disappointment; the inevitable transformation towards sallow disgust justified by the devastation of slap-to-the-face betrayal or loss.

must we fulfill the dream simply to learn that it was only ever empty?

my father, a devoutly unspiritual pragmatist, had nevertheless as a young man fallen in love with the expansive embrace of the blue above. the son, grandson, and great-grandson of farmers, he worked his hands down to shredded red sores to put himself though flying school only to have his application for a commercial licence rejected due to a doctor's confounding eleventh hour diagnosis. colour blindness. an all-or-nothing man, my father never once returned to the enthralling blues, yellows and pinks offered up by the cockpit, and from that point forward became a farmer.

i gave up on the thought of becoming a pilot, and later, (much later), developed a fear of flying.

People of all ages sitting in a circle staring at the ground, ceiling, etc. a few twitching.

"Hi, I'm Fred."

"Hi Fred"

"I started this group because I found that I was on Hello Poetry 24/7. I got an account and I loved it. At first I was only on a little, posting one or two poems a day. But I loved it so much I began spending more time on it. It became a problem when I was fired for focusing on Hello Poetry instead of the heavy machinery I was operating. I was drinking so much coffee so I didn't have to sleep that I couldn't think straight. I began writing strange poems about adhesive sloths and grapes. My wife threatened to leave me if I didn't delete my account. I tried to stay off it but, it didn't work out. My wife took my kids and told me that I was too irresponsible. I responded with a limerick. She was very mad and left immediately after. I really want to stop being addicted to Hello Poetry and when I asked I got an overwhelming response from people who felt the same. If everyone could please introduce themselves in a clockwise direction."

"Hi… I'm… um… kittylover682"

"Hi kittylover682"

"So… I used to have a name, but now I can only remember my screen name. In fact, that is really the only part of my identity that remains. I miss obsessing over kitties and petting them, but now I just spend all my time on Hello Poetry. I used to have such a kitty-full life! I had so much potential! i made friends with every type of kitty, even new ones, i never discriminated. I met persian kitties, and alley kitties and tabby kitties and I went and pet them and showed them love… then i got kicked out of people's houses for sneaking in to pet their kitties… but my point is, kitties were my LIFE! And now, my life revolves around that little lightening bolt and i can only seem to speak in metaphors. That lightning bolt is the death of my heart, the thorn in my side, the electricity that warps my body and it just… it is a storm inside of my life. The agony when i see that my lightning bolt is not lit up with a notification… it is an undying fiery hell within my soul. I makes me want to… to… well, it makes me consider leaping off of cliffs or in front of trains… but the only thing that stops me is the hindering idea that I may have to get off of hello poetry for a few moments to go do that so I remain, under my bed on my computer, posting poetry, reading poetry, commenting, liking, reposting… its a VICIOUS CYCLE!!! WHAT HAPPENED TO ME?!!!!”

“Hi I’m DaPoet”

“Hi DaPoet”

“Like, kittylover682 I had a different name, but this is MUCH cooler. I don’t think I have a problem, because who says there is anything wrong with being a poet? Also I’m not a normal poet. All of my poems are also raps. I’m here because my mom thinks I have a problem. Apparently choosing poetry over sleep and school is not okay. I don’t understand her ‘logic’”

“Hi I’m DYING”

“Hi Dying”

“No, that’s not my name, who CARES what my name is?! I’m only still here and not on Hello Poetry right now because my sister has chained me to this chair and bolted it to the floor. She thinks I need help but I AM DYING! I need to get on it! I DON’T HAVE A PROBLEM! I’M FINE! I’M FINE! GIVE ME BACK MY LAPTOP!”

“Please calm down.”

“Shut up Fred!
There once was a man named Fred,
who got it into his stupid head,
that people needed to be cured,
of the obsession with the written word,
and as soon as I get unchained FRED IS GOING TO BE DEAD!”

“Okay… please stop creating violent limericks on the spot. We have all been there, there IS a way out.”

“I DON’T WANT A WAY OUT! I HATE TO SHOUT, BUT WITHOUT A DOUBT YOU ARE A BIG DUMB LOUT!”

“Okay, stop making really ****** rhymes please.”

“Well then… GIVE ME BACK MY LAPTOP!”

“Okay… let’s just move on. We’ll come back to you. Next person, please go on, I’ll duct tape his mouth shut. Silence is golden, but duct tape is silver, after all.”

“Hi I’m…Sally”

“Excuse me, could you put down your phone while you introduce yourself?”

“No… Oh my gosh, Poetry is Life started trending!”

“I’m sorry what?”

“My fourth latest poem started trending!”

“YAY!” *everyone claps and congratulates Sally

“No. No more Hello Poetry. We are supposed to stop obsessing over poetry and be cured from this addiction.”

“I don’t want to be cured.”

“I love Hello Poetry”

“Why don’t we change this to a spoken word club!”

“Yes!”

“Hi I’m DaPoet and I declare this a new spoken word club!”

“YAY!”

“No no no! I created this to-” Sally clubs Fred in the head with her phone and he drops dead

“YAY! FRED IS DEAD!”

“He was hit in the head”

“And we are now free”

“To write continuous poetry!”

“And become more obsessed instead!”

The end.


REPOST IF YOU REALLY NEED TO ATTEND THIS SUPPORT GROUP TOO LIKE US
PLEASE COMMENT! WE LOVE TO READ ANY THOUGHTS YOU HAVE!

Before air became gas
And water waste;
Before light became lasers
And fireworks cannons;
Before cars got wings
And trucks got tracks;
Before rafts were raiding ships
And we breathed underwater;
Before sticks were arrows and spears
And we exalted ourselves;
Before Empires rose and fell
And rose and fell,
A femur crushed Cro magnon's skull.
It's a marvel
How any of us
Are here
At all.

I used to be afraid that one day you will leave me.
I had nightmares of you walking out of that door, leaving me to start all over again.
I used to think without you there is no tomorrow , there is no life, no time nor space

One day you walked away, shut the door on my face, just like that.
For hours it felt like I could not breath , time stopped. I stopped.
Thoughts that went through my mind were to dark, even for me.
I was reminiscing nightmares I used to have before you.

Well today I woke up and hit me, I am alive. I am alive.
You are not here and I am still breathing.....
I don't know why I was afraid of the sound of that door shutting me out.
I have heard it so many times, like a  chorus to a song I love,,, I sing along to it.

Walk and make sure you never come back. I will roll out a **** red carpet just for you. I will open the door shut, so ajar that time will get tired of passing through.
I don't beg anymore, I don't care anymore.. I am alive... more alive than ever before and you know why.. because you are not here......

So as you walk down the street I will ignore you, because you don't exist.. and I am not about to relapse..
You were never my life support, I was your life support,,, your oxygen , your beating heart...

His love
is the winter  
solstice, mounting  
the top of her world
where  
her love  
is the summer  
equinox, embracing  
the basis  
of his

Once there was a little man,
A simple man,
No different than the others,
His life was dull,
His face was pale,
A simple man,
Like any other,
No color in his life.

But when he met her,
He wasn't just a simple man,
He smiled
And he embraced life,
He breathed in the life he was missing,
He wanted to travel,
Travel in her eyes
Travel in her smile.

He got lost in happiness.

You are trying to love me but I wont let you
because I am also trying to love me
It will take eternity for me to break down this way
I have to find me another way of doing this
and in that path,,, you don't exist

I cant give you a piece of me, to me you are a stranger
I don't want to hold hands with a stranger
I don't want to be loved when I don't know how to love
I cant do this....

I don't love, I don't need you anymore.
So as you walk out don't look back, as I break your heart don't cry.
Lesson learned is that you deserve better, better than me, better than this.
I can never give you want you want , which is me.