Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"aguish" poems
I’ve been sad so long I’m afraid of what it means When the world isn’t weighing down on me Don’t know what to carry when it’s not heavy. I’m skeptical when I’m happy, Unsure of my identity when it’s easy, Feel suspicious when I’m breathing freely. Who am I when the sea isn’t tumultuous? Lost when times are prosperous? What do I do when I can’t trust this? I’m uncomfortable with the blank spaces empty of mental illness. Who am I when there’s no battle to be faced? I feel hollow and out of place Like I am made of clay that hasn’t quite taken shape. I want to be someone when there’s no foe to vanquish Have a meaning beyond my aguish. I know there’s more to me than sickness, But I feel no strength without my weakness. How do I become the person I am meant to be? How do I find myself when I am happy?
0
Jun 14, 2023
Jun 14, 2023 at 3:58 PM UTC
Who am I Happy?
The Lost Letter of Love- The thunder of the busy street makes love to the vicious voices that plague my mind. Reminisce of a forgotten love still shower my inner most thoughts. Passion that once overwhelmed my life is now my reason for exhaust. The shimmers that once lit my ambition and drive now hang lightless, darker than the deepest secret. Yet the frequency of lost desire still induces the most intoxicating substance. Arms grow weary caressing forgotten times, the tears that once grew a river, are now dry beds of torment. The beautiful dawn plays in coalition with the residuals of a distant song. “Goodbye my lover” plays in harmony with the neglect of reality. Not facing demons yet displaying affection to them. Indulging in virtues once restricted by political propaganda. I am her vicious vendetta, her thoughtlessness, her absence. I lay on a bed of needles enjoying the aguish, suffering in satisfaction. The destructive thought of deserving such a decisive decision allows my mind to become a rag of lost emotion, wiping tears from the concaved steps that once bread a whirlwind of radical love. A canvas stained recklessness paints a picture of a destined solitude. No regret orchestrates a symphony of percussions, streaming beautiful sound through the hills of total regret. Awake becomes second nature, slumber slumbers with the lack of motivation to ignite the calm. Insomnia hums in a melody so righteous that the religion becomes the man. A hollow shell of broken ambition sway in the wind of self desire. The cries of the night become intoned with the cries of truth. Instinct maps the course of self-withered illusion, illuminating the “why us” cause. A foundation of happiness holds the weight of a pessimistic engagement. While optimistic scavengers prey on the depths of endless souls. Disappointment rectifies all signatures of a so-called love. Remembering a once forgotten future claims its stakes as the eternal right. The moon holds desperate for the fortune of the unfortunate son. Unsettled disputes, take a toll on broken bodies. Broken wills dance in the limelight ignoring the forgotten pain, a laugh of retribution becomes one with inexplicit content. While saying “I love you” becomes that of explicit context, searching for the meaning between the lines. The lost letter of love shapes like the clouds in the sky only resembling something it never can be. RICHARD ITSKOVICH
0
Jul 28, 2010
Jul 28, 2010 at 2:05 PM UTC
Lost Letter of Love
The Lost Letter of Love- The thunder of the busy street makes love to the vicious voices that plague my mind. Reminisce of a forgotten love still shower my inner most thoughts. Passion that once overwhelmed my life is now my reason for exhaust. The shimmers that once lit my ambition and drive now hang lightless, darker than the deepest secret. Yet the frequency of lost desire still induces the most intoxicating substance. Arms grow weary caressing forgotten times, the tears that once grew a river, are now dry beds of torment. The beautiful dawn plays in coalition with the residuals of a distant song. “Goodbye my lover” plays in harmony with the neglect of reality. Not facing demons yet displaying affection to them. Indulging in virtues once restricted by political propaganda. I am her vicious vendetta, her thoughtlessness, her absence. I lay on a bed of needles enjoying the aguish, suffering in satisfaction. The destructive thought of deserving such a decisive decision allows my mind to become a rag of lost emotion, wiping tears from the concaved steps that once bread a whirlwind of radical love. A canvas stained recklessness paints a picture of a destined solitude. No regret orchestrates a symphony of percussions, streaming beautiful sound through the hills of total regret. Awake becomes second nature, slumber slumbers with the lack of motivation to ignite the calm. Insomnia hums in a melody so righteous that the religion becomes the man. A hollow shell of broken ambition sway in the wind of self desire. The cries of the night become intoned with the cries of truth. Instinct maps the course of self-withered illusion, illuminating the “why us” cause. A foundation of happiness holds the weight of a pessimistic engagement. While optimistic scavengers prey on the depths of endless souls. Disappointment rectifies all signatures of a so-called love. Remembering a once forgotten future claims its stakes as the eternal right. The moon holds desperate for the fortune of the unfortunate son. Unsettled disputes, take a toll on broken bodies. Broken wills dance in the limelight ignoring the forgotten pain, a laugh of retribution becomes one with inexplicit content. While saying “I love you” becomes that of explicit context, searching for the meaning between the lines. The lost letter of love shapes like the clouds in the sky only resembling something it never can be. RICHARD ITSKOVICH
Continue reading...
3
I want to tell you about the time I jumped. The time I became my biggest fear And conquered. I want to tell you of the white curtains that tried to sweep over my eyes, and How I summoned that aguish I want you to know It wasn't made right straight away Blood, screams, tears whirled first In my face on my body, A weight of dread coming from her mouth Holding my arms down. But then still. A peace took residence in the air, creating an earthly dull hum A constant murmur, hypnotising The knots out of our backs The beast in my stomach, to surrender I want to tell you I felt safe, But then I would not be credible to you And my words could be dismissed. Now, the truth spilled Her tongue no longer licks my legs, purple Nor do I  wake with my knuckles numb I take what I have coming, happy and sad Both, the vibrant beat To my weaping heart
0
Jan 25, 2018
Jan 25, 2018 at 5:13 AM UTC
About the accident
From small to tall, You always guide me and all, Vast and wide ocean waves is nothing at all. Your love is an over-flowing river, never ending and forever. I just want to say thank you for the unconditional love, so pure. A love so strict yet keeps me from slip. I became so naive, selfish and gives you pain. I think of nothing but my own aguish and makes your life blemish. You hath done many things, sacrificed and longed. You sailed the deep hue and melancholic of the sea for a good future for me to see. You're the light and columns of this little house. Brave and unyielding. You're the anchor to my boat, holding me strong. You has gem eyes that makes the stars envy, Wavy brown hair that matched the horizon waves of dispair, And blissful smile that shines and light the days. Now Im laying on my bed lost in the labyrinth of my thoughts, longing and yearning. Oh my dear mother, a gift from above, let me feel the warmth of your love. Let me inhale the familiar scent again. Let me listen to the hopeful words again. Please come back?
0
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 12:27 AM UTC
Yearning Daughter
Life ain't no bed of roses We're not destined to drown in a pit of despair Aguish is unknown until flesh grazes a blade of barbed brair A prickle that ****** A nettle that nicks and stings my gaping gore A scab I scratch and pick My heart...a naked sore The pain of a plant's pike Poison seeping through my pores Miss Ivy takes her effect Toxins causing lock jaw Severed sinew plastered with rags A slash sutured with cotton and thorns Suffering through my misery The tears begin to fall Hard crust clogging my chest Covering a fresh wound that once formed Blood caked over a cut Creating a congealed blood cork Fighting my inner demons The tiger bears it's claws Messing with the bulls emotions I am the matador Dismembered dreams it seems that every memory is now torn Present and future vines intertwine The past pondered and warped Mouths spew false truths Profanity strewn on the floor Ears sewn shut while lips sip on a glass of gossips gall The wizard chants and casts a spell A corpse is reborn Here I sit on the edge of a cliff While thoughts pace and linger outside death's door My brain is linched, hung by a hurricane of thoughts Head decapitated by a sickle my mind is now brutally butchered brawn A bayonet thrusts into my side An assassin attacks me with saws Penetrating my beating benevolence I'm punctured by grape-stained swords I am nothing but a ragged ragdoll A cast-away with an aching core A strolling soldier A wandering warrior An outcast that was scorned
0
Sep 30, 2025
Sep 30, 2025 at 4:24 AM UTC
Weeping Wound
Life ain't no bed of roses We're not destined to drown in a pit of despair Aguish is unknown until flesh grazes a blade of barbed brair A prickle that ****** A nettle that nicks and stings my gaping gore A scab I scratch and pick My heart...a naked sore The pain of a plant's pike Poison seeping through my pores Miss Ivy takes her effect Toxins causing lock jaw Severed sinew plastered with rags A slash sutured with cotton and thorns Suffering through my misery The tears begin to fall Hard crust clogging my chest Covering a fresh wound that once formed Blood caked over a cut Creating a congealed blood cork Fighting my inner demons The tiger bears it's claws Messing with the bulls emotions I am the matador Dismembered dreams it seems that every memory is now torn Present and future vines intertwine The past pondered and warped Mouths spew false truths Profanity strewn on the floor Ears sewn shut while lips sip on a glass of gossips gall The wizard chants and casts a spell A corpse is reborn Here I sit on the edge of a cliff While thoughts pace and linger outside death's door My brain is linched, hung by a hurricane of thoughts Head decapitated by a sickle my mind is now brutally butchered brawn A bayonet thrusts into my side An assassin attacks me with saws Penetrating my beating benevolence I'm punctured by grape-stained swords I am nothing but a ragged ragdoll A cast-away with an aching core A strolling soldier A wandering warrior An outcast that was scorned
Continue reading...
55
Flakes fall so so slow. The windows are fogged, I touch, they're .. cold They're cold like my mind, like my heart, like my tears.. Tears that stain this cheek black from last nights mascara, From last weeks tirade, from last years aguish, from my last years of pain.. Flakes fall so so slow. They fall on my hand and melt away as quickly as they came. Start at the edges, move to the middle, then STOP… and become water. It becomes water on my hand that then overflows and slips through the crevasses of my palm unto the unknowing abyss _like you. You slipped through the cracks of my heart, my soul_ you were my undoing, you had me . . . but you slipped. Flakes fall so so slow. Trees are withered and dead. no colors on their limbs and they bent under submission to the falling snow. Like I _ I bent over backwards and forwards and sideways, jumped up and down just to make you happy. And what did I receive? All I received was the burden of having you on my back and the so called obligation I had to you. Flakes fall so so slow. Like time when you're in the worst heartache of your life. it slows. It slows to every god **** second, As if God himself was watching in slow motion just to laugh, just to say I told you so. Flakes fall so so slow. So god **** slow. Painfully slow that you have no other choice but to look. You watch as it makes the world beautiful in a matter of seconds until it gets ***** and washed away. Like you did with me. I am washed away with the dirt you bestowed upon me. Flakes fall so so slow. And I am right there with it. Falling slower than ever before as I watch my life pass me by and doing nothing about it. I am the Slowest Winter.
0
Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 11:31 AM UTC
Slow Winters
Flakes fall so so slow. The windows are fogged, I touch, they're .. cold They're cold like my mind, like my heart, like my tears.. Tears that stain this cheek black from last nights mascara, From last weeks tirade, from last years aguish, from my last years of pain.. Flakes fall so so slow. They fall on my hand and melt away as quickly as they came. Start at the edges, move to the middle, then STOP… and become water. It becomes water on my hand that then overflows and slips through the crevasses of my palm unto the unknowing abyss _like you. You slipped through the cracks of my heart, my soul_ you were my undoing, you had me . . . but you slipped. Flakes fall so so slow. Trees are withered and dead. no colors on their limbs and they bent under submission to the falling snow. Like I _ I bent over backwards and forwards and sideways, jumped up and down just to make you happy. And what did I receive? All I received was the burden of having you on my back and the so called obligation I had to you. Flakes fall so so slow. Like time when you're in the worst heartache of your life. it slows. It slows to every god **** second, As if God himself was watching in slow motion just to laugh, just to say I told you so. Flakes fall so so slow. So god **** slow. Painfully slow that you have no other choice but to look. You watch as it makes the world beautiful in a matter of seconds until it gets ***** and washed away. Like you did with me. I am washed away with the dirt you bestowed upon me. Flakes fall so so slow. And I am right there with it. Falling slower than ever before as I watch my life pass me by and doing nothing about it. I am the Slowest Winter.
Continue reading...
25
Icy he was the favourite play thing of winter, abused by so many touched in inappropriate ways. Said to be pure but always ****** on in so many ways. Parents dropped him from a height. Screams echoed from the heavens till he was broken in to fearful pieces below, his aguish was individual tears descending . But he found no peace in the solitude of lingering white, as throw in jest upon all manners of objects till he either was silent or just broke regrettably apart. Icy had feeling but all that was left after he was used, All a puddle of misused emotions that were more suited for a drain and he evaporated silently away.
0
Jul 15, 2016
Jul 15, 2016 at 5:50 PM UTC
Icy Not As Pure As You Think
Day 7872 of my existence I tried to end it all, but the knife was not in reach and the scissors were much too dull Regressed into my depression No savior in sight No organized religion will help me see the light I'm convinced it is my fate to go blissfully in the night Ignorance is bliss, but the wise are always jaded they see how cold the world is and how you're never appreciated You're on your own, alone, in the darkness, in the sorrow You pay a person to listen to your problems, so you'll get through the day and hopefully make it until tomorrow Nothing is ever free, not even love from your family It always comes with a price or a condition A vulnerable, worn down person To be used and abused is my norm Listening to the rain, I identify with the storm I feel it's aguish and its thirst to be heard, to have a voice The calming effect that emerges afterwards is not resolution, but conceding to the fight To lose that endless battle, that I won't come out of alive
0
Apr 25, 2017
Apr 25, 2017 at 5:53 PM UTC
The Thunder in My Heart
Up until today I thought it was still a dream But reality shook me And brought me back quickly Knowing This was no dream at all But another event To add to the list Of responses People will say When asked, “hey, why did she turn out that way” With the answer being “You” You caused this aguish She now feels You caused this anger She tries to conceal You take no responsibility For the things you’ve done The lives you ruin The pain you caused But I will not hate you Instead I will tell you to pray Because the day I see you again ***** you will pay!!!!
0
Oct 24, 2016
Oct 24, 2016 at 12:11 PM UTC
Watch yo Self