Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
The Non-Poet Apr 2019
i don't know
what happened to you

i don't know
what happened to us

what i did wrong
what i did
for you to walk off
into your new life
and leave me in the dark

so many have told me
to forget about you
that i deserve someone better
someone that will make me happy
for the rest of my days

and maybe they're right
honestly
i couldn't tell you back then

all i knew is
some moments
i had a fire
burning bright and hot
in my soul
my hate burning up my despair
which seemed to have no end

but some moments
under the cover of night
when the world got quiet
and it was only me and the stars
i thought back on our happy moments
the few that we were able to steal for ourselves
and i couldn't help but smile at those precious memories
some of which i knew i would treasure forever
and i couldn't help but think
that you were the only person
who would ever understand me
and that i would only ever find happiness
in the messed up way i found it with you

it's funny
isn't it?
you betrayed me
you just disappeared without a word
even though you promised you never would

and yet
i think i forgive you
i know you'll never read this
and that's okay
cause it's not for you, it's for me
and the rest of the world to see
  Jan 2019 The Non-Poet
alexa
you say you’re not a poet but
with a girl like that,
how could you speak
anything less than
the stars?
-a.c.b
  Jan 2019 The Non-Poet
Wanderer
Artists are often
broken people
using the fragments of themselves
to create something new
and although
being healed
feels so complete
sometimes i want to be broken again
sometimes i want open wounds
so i can use the blood
to paint sunsets
so i can use the torn off pieces of skin as a canvas
so i can carve
masterpieces with the jagged bones left behind
but I can't bring myself to break my own heart in the name of Art
  Dec 2018 The Non-Poet
MaKenzie Unser
my mom thinks it’s a hickey on my neck
and i’d rather her think that
than know it’s from your fingers
clamping my throat shut
with rage
  Oct 2018 The Non-Poet
anya
you wake up
his hair is spilled across the pillow,
the sun slants across his cheekbone
and his breath is slow and even.
he smells like an open field
and his body is wrapped around yours
so he keeps you warm.
you think,
there is no moment better than this,
that he is too perfect to exist.
but you wake up gasping,
skin soaked in sweat.
you lie there for a long time,
in your completely empty bed.
The Non-Poet Oct 2018
in the beginning
the sun met the moon
and she instantly fell in love

the story of the universe was yet uncertain
but their romance was written in the stars

he was quiet and cool
to her fire and passion
the perfect dichotomy
to the cosmos and beyond

but as it is said for anything
everything that can go wrong, will go wrong

and the sun and moon were ripped apart
only joined together
briefly during those moments
of dawn and dusk

but even that didn't stop them
from loving from afar
Next page