"beautifuls" poems
I remember the first time he called me beautiful.
I laughed because I thought he was joking.
How innocent we were,
so naïve, not knowing that one kiss can change a whole relationship.
I remember as the months turned to years,
And the beautifuls became more persistent,
Yet I still laughed because I knew nothing could happen.
I remember that fateful night when fear paralyzed me
And he brought me back to life.
I was frozen in my fear
And he came to my rescue with one passionate kiss.
I remember the weeks that followed
And the fun we had as our new romance began.
I remember the thrill as we fought to keep our romance a secret,
Sneaking from the kitchen to the hallway
And from the bedroom to the car.
I remember how my heart leaped to my throat when the first person called me out on us.
I was so scared to hear the disappointment, but it never came.
I remember the joy I felt with every look and touch from him.
The passion we had for one another was overwhelming.
I was living in a blissful state of naïveté.
I remember the day my ignorance turned into mistrust
because of a person I thought was my friend.
Then I scream and shut down my mind because I can't handle the pain.
So again I remember the first time you called me beautiful.
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 2:00 PM UTC
#
*Don't kid yourselves
Each and everyone of us
has the power to truly save
Yet all around us,
they are falling.
Shall we begin to
say their names?
Why do you carry on
as though you cannot
When something dimly-Beautiful
inside of you* says. you. can.
*And screams out into your soul
late at night,*
That you will.
*They are gone now;
my sweet Forever-Beautifuls
but not from you, they are..
Because it is The Fallen in them
that keeps telling you, that you can
and you will..
Truly save.
There is a song
that is buried deep
in every-one of us
that tells us
They will never be broken again.*
#
Dec 26, 2022
Dec 26, 2022 at 2:52 PM UTC
***** girl. godly beast.
I couldn't be
one of those
beautifuls
if I pleased.
tribal bones stained
with European empirico
I am black death disease,
just human trash
that learned to read
& I believe bootleg genius
is being
massively reproduced
more cheaply & as we speak
is being weakened
so as to be spoon fed
to the cool kids.
yknow they
couldn't do it
by themselves.
never sweated.
laughed instead
yes
I seen em
inchin to the edge
but
I didn't
do anything about it.
I kinda feel guilty
cause I didn't
do anything about it.
It's just a ****** up
awful sound,
a whole generation
hitting the ground
at once.
Man. it really
puts things in perspective.
kinda makes you wonder
what's coming next.
medicine medley
ineffectual
malady infectious
witch hunt etiquette,
I think in pictures
disney depictions of
apocalyptic ****
yet to be decrypted
I rip myself to pieces
every day.
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 5:36 AM UTC
Tuesdays remind me of third grade
and so does astrology.
Our tables formed a pentagon, it was me and the beautifuls:
come the good-looking maid called Destinee
with two e’s, not one and not even a y, she had two e’s.
I modeled myself after her cerulean lenses
eye sockets that were pulled back by dinosaur bones
and gave wrinkles to her forehead prematurely, six speckles
like ostrich eggs gathering under a stratum of mud.
She was dark-headed, she wasn’t fair.
She had sorcery in her collar, fairies in her pulse.
Her mother had the name of a Chihuahua or evil witch:
I secretly cursed her for having a daughter so lovely
who I could not peck on Tuesday field-trips to a menagerie
just because she was as feminine as me.
That is how I learned about destiny
and Destinee, so pretty pretty.
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 7:16 PM UTC
Help me now to remember
How you hugged me to your chest
your arms strong+holded me, let me rest.
When you whispered quiet
Beautifuls
And quiet
Assurities.
Help me to remember
How I held on with dear life
Scared to let go
And scared I won't remember.
And scared that you would go.
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 12:51 AM UTC
Hey dorian grey
God made you to be beautiful sculpture
The magic of music at your fingers
When you are playing the piano
So paino keys are lost in your magic
And paino keys are dances indicator of your fingers
You are not less than beautiful masterpiece of the artist
When the artist sees you
It seems useless to create its own back paintings
The artist made hundreds pictures of yours
You are the heartbeat of beautifuls women and girls
When all women and beautiful girls seeing you that hold their heart
Magnetic attraction in your black eyes
Fireflies of night flicker in your eyes
The criticalness of your beautiful lips that distinguishes you from others
You are separated from others
Today I made you adorn my own poetry
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 10:09 AM UTC
My queen, *In the realm of beautifuls
Was but the fairest lady that ever walked
She who was as eye-popping as mew gulls
Her visage nothing but a complexion of roses
Beaming exquisitely with rainbow colours
A fire deep within my heart she'd arouse
She whose silvery smile could unfurl
Like beauteous lotus blossoms in bloom
My heart deep within couldn't help it twirl
A queen with a gaily yet opalescent skin
As smooth as the blanket of the night skies
Blanketing her from the toes to the chin
And the fragrance about her breath
Could directly transport me to paradise
Whenever in her warm sweet embrace
Like whispering trees in a lonely breeze
Her voice was such soft and euphonious
Honestly, captivating yet bursting free
Whilst in darkness I craved not a lantern
For her starry eyes effulgently scintillated
With ethereal light that ceased not to stun
All birds in the heavens could cease to fly
Only to marvel at such novelty pulchritude
Whenever my queen dared to saunter by
Many said she ascended from the sky
Because once next to her you'd feel so
Yet some said from fairyland she did ply
Peerless was such my Queen's beauty
Thus all mankind, all animals and birds
Christened her* "A reflection of beauty!"
©Kikodinho Alexandros
18th August 2016
Aug 17, 2016
Aug 17, 2016 at 4:35 PM UTC
Break my heart
Shatter my bones
And blow away the ashes
Then hug her
Smile with her
Laugh with her
Do you not remember?
Remember the promise you made me
Your promise to fix me
You've seen me at my best
At my worst
You know what this does to me
And yet you still do it.
I noticed your hugs getting shorter
The distance growing larger
We've grown apart
Do you no longer mean it?
Do your I love yous
And your I think you're beautifuls
Do they mean nothing to you?
Because I still mean it.
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 11:18 AM UTC
I can only say I miss you in so many ways.
My syllables plunge like suicides
Into the space between us
the cold glaze of your wine-dark eyes
unmoved.
In my memory, they are still bright
Peeking around the old oak as we played tag like children
The scrape of bark across arms
The warm press of your waist in my hands
the sweet brightness of lemon and gardenia cascading from your hair.
Now when I reach for you
There is only the chasm of cool air
across our bed, the rise of your shoulder
the fractured points of ambient light
illuminating the Cassiopeia constellation of beauty marks
At the nape of your neck
I once kissed every night.
My lips still remember the feather touches of your hair,
The heat of your back against the curled sanctuary of my chest.
But now we are empty cloisters,
And when I hold my dreams before you
Like pairs of polished dimes
You tell me they,
and I
mean nothing.
You drive one, pink-nailed finger through the cavity of my loneliness
relishing in the slow soft flesh
That will always bend to you
Even when you turn away.
I am the sea
limbs bruised black
From the slamming of waves on levee
And I want nothing more
Than to flood you.
I am tired
Of reminding you that I miss him, too.
That every day
I feel his phantom weight in my arms
Wake in the night
To a changeling’s cry.
And I know it is the grief-bored holes
That drive us into cavernous waste,
Poison the well between us.
I see the wine bottles
You hide behind the washer,
the way you only clean his room when drunk,
Stumbling, teary-eyed, the way you always hit the mobile
When dusting the crib,
and its twinkling notes
Collapse around you.
I can only say I love you
In so many ways,
The folded laundry, sunflowers,
The lingering gaze on your still effortless grace, whispered “you’re beautifuls” across the night,
The favorite candy bar I find uneaten in the trash.
Can you hear
The scraping rift of each fissure
Running down my back
The spidered cracks
You only drive wider—
Are you only waiting
For the shatter?
Dec 21, 2021
Dec 21, 2021 at 3:37 PM UTC
If I could write a new forever
I'd lie beneath the ceiling splashed with
the glow-in-the-dark stars that you sighed
before you ever knew me but
when I was poised to make you known
I'd fly forever in flames and soar set
in your fire to warm my cold hands
(so strange that you like my cold hands on your chest --
so strange that I used to
never like chest hair, but you laugh my
never used tos away into smoke)
I'd crack my glass heart
to stay beautifully fragile but you'd cut away
my fragiles from beautifuls
(so strange that you like my cold hands on your chest
so strange that you see me and like me at all
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 12:47 AM UTC
hurt....
I'm still hurt, tho I hide it well...
I miss how we used to be...
The good morning beautifuls...
the 3 am wake up texts...
The constant connection...
You blamed me in this...
You put the failure of us, on me....
The weight of that blame when I know its a lie to save face...still hurts
You never loved me enough...
You knew that you'd never stay...
In the end.. I took that blame
Knowing it for what it is...
You knew I'd adore you anyway so you took that chance...
I still hurt when I think of those words...
They echo often in my head..
I can look at you and smile... the hurt won't show
I can love you and take that pain of knowing where we stand..
I was never enough for you...
But I am so much more
I smile and kiss your mouth despite this...
I just wanted you to know that it hurts...
That you burned me well this time around..
in your goal to be adored....
E.J.M.
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 10:10 AM UTC
I look into those eyes,
the brown ones,
the beautifuls ones,
staring back at me
making me human
making me whole
clean and complete
I slither into you
like a snake escaping eden
hoping to get piece
a little taste
of your righteous tongue
warm and rocking
I sleep against your belly
and let your breath take me
up and away
far into the in between
the greyish landscape
that hovers like fog
between right and wrong
love and hate
that's where I'll stay
and wait for you
to come up and inside
to move the mountains
which stand sturdy
and still within my chest
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 1:13 PM UTC
One day it will stop.
You will stop seeing my stubborness as my cute attitude,
But you will see my father in it.
And when you see my father in it,
You will see my habit of getting angry at everything I do and others do.
One day you will stop seeing flowers blossoming from my lungs,
But rather my nails ripping out of flesh so anxiously,
As if it had been trapped for decades with no food.
One day all of the “I love yous” and the “you are so beautifuls”
Will stop
They will end
And I will be left here,
With so many more I love yous to say
So many more times I can tell you my soul
But no way of transcribing them to you
And i will be left to sit in my room
On a sunday afternoon
Writing a story,
About how with the next boy
One day it will stop too.
Feb 23, 2018
Feb 23, 2018 at 10:39 PM UTC