"backround" poems
Heaving chest
Blood leaking from heaveans mouth
Scared shacky hands
A forienger to this strange land
Of shadowy plains
And rip shattering pain
Eyes so brave
No tears in the blue pools
Strong soul
Ready to escape
The cage your body holds about it
Whisper in the nights wind
Just be silent my love
Hold on to me
You'll be okay
And the bombs blast in the backround
Of his cries
As she, his love dies
With a note that she had carried through the
War feilds
My love ,
Hold your tears for another day
I am brave
I will not be scared when my
Light
Shines in my eyes
And my reaper takes me from this
Land
Of breathing
I will not be afraid to
Face what lies before me
I am strong my love
Be strong to
Fight for our will
Fight for me to
Always hold my love with you
As a token of grattitude
For all that you have done
And will do
And in my last breath.....
I love you
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 7:13 AM UTC
Rocks in my apartment,
I don't clean.
You see, the fluffy pillows
host a party tonight,
seems like all my enemies
are invite.
There's blood in the floor, indeed.
Music captures the shaky windows,
curtains dancing in the backround,
tragedy hits the door
right from the shadows.
I don't want to be here.
Listening is painfull,
watching gets knives in my lungs,
the guests are laughing on me.
Anxiety says hi.
The house shouts "Welcome",
please,
I only need sadness for my art.
Jun 9, 2019
Jun 9, 2019 at 9:23 AM UTC
You make me see
That I am only what I let myself be
What I let you see is only parts of me
You are the one nobody can feel
I am the one who is never real just more or less concealed
In this life we would be too unreal
You keep me awake
Even though I have never seen the way your head will shake
When you to tell me that I'm wrong...
Yet this is the place I feel like I belong
2.36 am
You keep my thoughts spinning around in my head
In the place where I lie
It's here
alone
In my bed
Music is still on in the backround
But my thoughts shut it out and turns it into something distant
I wish that...
I see fire by Ed Sheeran
Keep the music playing
I want to know
I need to know what other people are saying
2.40 am
Stop it
We can't ever be we
Drop it
Us can never be something we could see
**** it
There wont be a You And Me
2.47 am
Stop the music
Let me sleep
Stop the thoughts
Let me dream
Dec 26, 2013
Dec 26, 2013 at 8:47 PM UTC
im fading slowly
into the backround
of nothingless
no one will notice
untill its too late
they wont care untill
its been broadcasted
across the news
with the headline
local girl takes own life
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 9:06 PM UTC
Violins play in the backround
Of this black and white film
A love story
Boy meets girl
Girl falls in love
But this love is different
Than any high school
Love story
But it's just that
A story
Every one has an end
This one ended
With smeared mascara
And two halves
Of a heart
That used to be one
Oct 18, 2012
Oct 18, 2012 at 11:11 PM UTC
No one saw my pain
Even when I had no idea how to smile
I was literally dying inside
And at the closest call of ending it
No one saw my pain
I was sort of always in the backround
It sounds like a clyche but it was my reality
Everybody saw a door as a door
I saw a gate with steel bars and no password to get inside
They saw new people as an opportunite
I saw them as kings and queens, as higher royalty than me
I could never reach their level of "hey be my friend"
Why were they so scary
Why was I so afraid
I have no answer
It was just constant hell and me seeking for help without asking
I am not a happy pearl
I am not a bursting sea
I don't know when to turn back and wave for help
I always felt so trapped, there was just no place for me
Of all the steps I took, there was no shoes to be filling the path I made in the snow
Not a single one followed me, for my secrets are meant to be kept?
If they had just looked a little closer, way past the camera lense
They would have seen my scar, and my bleeding hand
They were always so happy and cheerful as they could be,
As I was laying on the ground thinking about what could be
How are they so carefree, when I plan every step and move I make
To not be in the way, but also be seen
I tried so hard playing that part, but with no confidence
They were all so cheerful
I just didn't understand
How can I be in the same room
But not understanding what is there
I just kept hiding those flaws they never saw
I didn't dare to eat the dinner that we cooked
I stayed far away and went around as a busboy the whole day
I think I could have been more
Maybe just a little more off the side
Not right in the middle but like a quarter of enough
I kept it a secret as long as I could
But I had to give an answer and to the emergency we went
I was hiding
I was venting
I was in pain
I am in pain
Will I always feel this pain inside
This was years ago, you would think memories would go
But not mine no, they stay hidden until they pop up and i'm right back there again.
Jan 12, 2021
Jan 12, 2021 at 7:57 AM UTC
Chocolate in paper cups
Early mornings having maths
Long bus drives that never end
Letters I've written but not send
Cinemas next to the port
A falling star that we lost
Photos of us with the sea backround
The waves we reach with no sound
We live in a society oathed to distruct
Too many scratches in a tiny box of love
My mind is racing back and forth
Am I the one, the same I was a moment before?
Sweet shops like the sixties
Nebulae that this magic kisses
You're already too far away
Memories that I'm afraid to make
We are people destined to forget
Too many black holes into which we step
My mind is lost in bright fallen leaves
The rain will turn into light summer breeze
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 5:22 PM UTC
It hurts worst when I'm sitting in a cafe and a song I know comes on the radio. By insinct I turn to the chair next to me. I turn to your empty chair. Dismayed, I look around for someone to share it with. But nobody there knows the song. To them it's just the gray backround. And I drop my eyes wishing I could make it exist.
Or worst when I'm walking through an empty parking lot at midnight and yellow light is dripping out of the street lamps and washing all over the pavement. The sound of it is deafening. I can't hear it but I can feel it. The weight of it pulls my shoulders down towards my own starving black shadow and makes me think of how the white glow of your skin pulled me down into your arms and made my eyes shine.
Or worst when I'm on the street corner waiting to cross and the rain is pouring over the skyscrapers and down into the canyons of the city. Cars pass like phantoms floating through the fog, their headlights flashing on the wet pavement. The sound of harsh laughter and flooded gutters invaded by creaking busses reaches me as if from the past, and for a second I can hear your voice, humming a song about the rain. And I cross, begging out loud underneath the roar of raindrops for the cars to hit me.
These are the lonliest days and the longest nights. These are the moments when I can feel my lungs caving in every time I exhale. The seconds where a tiny black line dancing to the pulse of time is the only movement in my cold apartment, replacing the warm rise and fall of your chest.
night is coming and I'm sitting at my window watching the sunset die and I don't want to give up I don't want to and it's getting dark again
Aug 26, 2010
Aug 26, 2010 at 2:10 PM UTC
When summer came in 98'
And the eyes of the momentary
Eternal swam into the Canyon Lake,
It was then the sway of skin
Took me to the place hungry eyes
And kids seeking stimulation went
To cool themselves off.
Under sky bright
I saw her with hips of light,
A second beer and I was grown
Into a man worthy of any woman.
No adults with experience
To guide my ill advised tactic.
A smack on the ***
At first she turned in complete anger,
Her curves had stiffened her body,
Combat mode and my buddies
Giggling in the backround.
I saw her beautifully frightful hand,
Her slap before we met eyes,
It was mighty and meaningful,
But when I turned from the wallop
To my face,
We met eyes once again,
The most timid of smiles
And a soft apology from me.
She smiled and slapped me once agin,
It was then I knew....
It was then I knew.
Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 4:07 PM UTC
...Opens up pacsun
last time I OPENED this up...man
...
i was drooling to have every single item on the page...
...I remember as greed and envy would sweep over my face
...I remember wanting the clothes to be seen
...I hear Aunty Toopee saying live a little in the backround...
live......a little
...and hurt myself while i'm at it....
....
maybe she really meant stop the worry and go run in the sun....
....maybe this lesson is...
letting go....letting life flow
....
maybe i closed my heart and only left my mind open to fashion...
open to absorb what everyone else is saying...
what everyone else is passionate about
...i don't think there was anytime in my life where i ever expressed myself through fashion...
honestly....
...fashion to me has been very compulsive...
its trendy and it's scary...
its everyone else but myself...
...i completely ran away from the fabric....
because so much has happened because of it....
now my Moms telling me im gross because i wear the same flannel...
Mom i'm sorry but im just comftorable..
and maybe that's bad...
that i go into a store and feel uncontrolled once I break the glass...
...and maybe i was meant to taste glass everytime I walked into a store
or opened up a magazine
or walked into a building of girls all carrying a louis tote....as your mama begged to get you a Michael Kors...
...and I said no
...clothes hurt
because it is the part of you where everyone sees...
....scariest part is not really what they see
its you....
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 1:03 PM UTC
I had only tasted wine twice in my life
once it was from the bottle, stolen from my fathers fridge
it tasted like bitterness sliding down my throat
it tasted like unhappiness bottled up
stupid stupid stupid boy
i was as sweet as a candied grain of salt
who told me i was special?
a vulture sat on my bony shoulder
it's claws dug into pale flesh
i sat happily
singing
always singing
it leaned over and whispered things that made me crack a smile
we sat on the edge of the couch with blood between our legs and blisters in the shape of hand prints where he touched us
i was happy to have a piece of cloth wrapped around my mouth
the second time i tasted wine
it was the flavor of her sugar coated lips
i could smell it
i could taste it
i didn't care
she told me it was backround music to the taste of her
like it was always lingering
i was drunk off the way my heart thunked
it sent a beat of nervousness throughout my ribcage
she slid her bony fingers under the back of my shirt and told me it was supposed to be this way
she whispered that love was supposed to feel this way
i nodded and went pliant
i thought love was supposed to be like that
i ******* hate the taste of wine
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 2:53 PM UTC
Let me be the first to say,
I'm not sorry for the words I said.
They may of been said in haste,
and put you in your place.
Enjoy the taste, of your own medicine.
Bittersweet quitter,
I could eat you for dinner.
There could only be one winner,
and I can't see you celebrating a victory today.
Take me away to the place where we doubled down,
your humbled frown,
in your dressing gown.
No one else around,
the screams in the backround,
no one will backdown,
at least for now.
I'm still not sorry,
Sorry.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 6:37 AM UTC
Would u consider yourself dead, before your born?
Appreciate silence, for it births sound, and when sound dies silence is still there.
Its a strange thing, life. An instant. A single moment consisting of multiple conscious states.
It vanished but it was once.
Legacies are similiar to sound, the stronger they are the farther they are heard. But eventually the backround silence will be 'unheard' but listened to.
Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 1:19 PM UTC
It's not my worst nightmare,
But it is high up on the list.
Maybe the fifth?
And it's running in circles,
And you're running around,
Shouting about how
We're both dying alone,
But together.
And how that's not the same
As dying alone,
Or dying together with someone.
I go inside,
But we're out of the good liquor,
And I'm not drinking the ******* Fireball.
Some Steve Carell movie is playing in the backround.
Tim and Sam are ******* on the couch,
As usual.
And I'm just alone.
You're all moving around me,
And you live your own miserable lives.
And I've outgrown you.
Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 9:04 PM UTC
Baby girl
With the smile like silver
And eyes like gold
Sprouting up
Wild as a ****
But that’s just how you are
Little one
With a personality all to big
For your
Five foot
Three inch body
With a life stuck on fast forward
Grown before my eyes
Those same eyes that led me to believe that you were happy
You lived through the worst
But
Nothing
No one
Could save you
Everyone always told you that
Fallacious
Rhyme about
Sticks
And Stones
But I know broken bones
Would’ve hurt you less
So everyday
Your severed heart strings
Bled away
The sorrows
So that maybe
Just maybe
You could learn not to care
And even now I wish
Only that you could see
Because my definition of beauty
Starts with you
And if you don’t see anything beautiful about yourself
Get a better mirror
Believe me honey
You are not just backround noise
Marching to someone else’s drum
Baby girl
With a smile like silver
And eyes like gold
Let me build a cast around your open wounds
And be the first to say
They were wrong
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 3:57 AM UTC
On some real **** ***** **** you you talk real but you not true this is our world its just us two but you down me like gravity.is it because i dont sag
my pants or i dont act tough,well thats me and you know me and i know you dont front dog because if you do dont run to me dont come to me dont look to me
if they jail you.sometimes i think was we ever meant to be cool because you put on acts for audiances while im in the backround fixing screws,but that same
***** thats fixing screws his job is to watch out for you but while the show of life is going on you cant talk and the handy man will ruin you,but thats not
the case he just lookin out because did it ever occur to you that your standing in a bad spot where the curtains will close on you,but as you look up its to
late and the fate of your life has glued you your audiance will not care its only one boy that can save you,but as that boy becomes a man and he looks into his hands
he knows that if he saves you,he'll have to do it again so the curtain closes and your down the handy man comes around he tugs you and he pulls you,but to you he
talks and never makes a sound.only time will tell whether or not he will realise that the audiance was never there for him in the first place and that the curtain
that fell on him is just a curtain that he can move with ease or whether he can Just take his feet from the glued down ***** blooded sneakers and find new clean sneakers to stand up and walk in ,and that the whole time your friend the handy man was always there in looking out for when you will need him most.
by a young person who knew to much for his own good
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 2:55 AM UTC
We had candy hearts and you were walking poetry
we spoke the language of eyes I see humans but no Humanity
Rainbows are gray to black and white in between
shoes are on the other foot but fitting it can't be
TV for sir television and televisions show images but the images are figmants of a mad mans imagination
His name is God
That's what we call him at least
we're his ****** up creation
I am backround not backbone
Actors are cast in my own dreams to play me because i was not perfect enough to play myself
Now children... When i say the language of eyes i mean instead of lips we met minds because of our thoughts curiosity
Our tongues did not lock but instead they flow freely
"The man" wanted us stuck not in control so he gave us color protectors but i like using crayons cause they're messy
Aug 14, 2017
Aug 14, 2017 at 7:22 PM UTC
I wait here
Softly in my mind
In this prison that doesn’t have a time
Your voice in the backround stuck in rewind
Will I ever be set free from your curse
Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 5:58 PM UTC
Im a loner
Thinking about the bigger picture
Knowing i am a backround pixel,
High definition of my sorrow
Displayed in the domain
Of the public eyes
For all to see me on my naked
Cross and filter the words of my
Pains
Written on a bed of life,
A whisper in the echoes,
I word written for me
Since my life is unspoken
May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 11:08 AM UTC