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lmbf Mar 2018
I can't write for you anymore.
Yes, I have hundreds of loosely scrawled letters written, typed, stored in one or three or five of the books I've taken over five years in a milk crate from city to state to small town and back again.
Yes, it took me an arm, a leg and a misguided rebound to get over you
But alas, here we are.
Yes, I know you won't miss me - though I know at one point you did care
But it's time for us to say goodbye.

I will dot the period, not the semicolon
(like you did a million years ago)
Seal the last letter with a smile
And never turn back.

Not until my teens ask me, "Mama, who were you before the world broke its promises?"
Will I pull out the milk crate
Filled with loosely scrawled letters written, typed, stored
And talk about the curly-haired blonde boy who first broke my heart.
Qweyku Oct 2016
strange things:
the same hands we raise
in victory are those we
lift in surrender, just as
joy is known because
we've tasted the fruit
that sadness yields.

**© Qwey.ku
He always bid me sweetdreams
before I go to sleep.


Then it was you that I've always dream


And I must say that it's a beautiful dream indeed;


Only that I feel so bad and selfish...
for there is he, but all I ever want is you.
The man of your dreams versus the one who's always there, waiting for you.
Ansley Aug 2018
The sun dances on her hair,
The brown echoing the colour of both her eyes and her freckles
As she dances through the sunflowers that are taller than her.
The other girl almost starts wondering how long it can last.
But she doesn't because
She promised the other girl that she wouldn't.
She also promised she would not pay attention to the siren or how it is getting very hot,
and very bright,
very fast.
They're out in the middle of a field for their last few minutes, trying to make happy last forever, which I find I try to do more often than I should.
Elah Naldo Apr 2017
sunkissed skin and vibrant skies,
warm season was always the same
but when i met those summer dazed eyes,
i knew that trouble just came

he had lips that kissed wetter than the ocean
he had arms like waves that swallowed me
he filled my summer with cuddly flirtations
he filled thousands of sunflowers within me

but just like how summer came to an end,
he left and autumn arrived with tears to shed
and just like how abandoned flowers would be,
they slowly died inside together with me

that summer was more than fifty shades of love
but all turned into an endless waves of misery
just wishing upon the tangerine sky above
that tides will bring him back to me
an entry to a summer themed poem writing competition
mitus May 2018
Spilling the juice all over the floor,
Missing you each day more and more.

Listening to music- new and old
My decisions getting a bit more bold.

Shutting the door louder than usual,
My mind is starting to get delusional.

Loving you without a doubt,
Hate seeing you with other girls out and about.

Scrutinizing every mistake I write,
Only to view every poem I spite.

Luring the unknown into my room,
Chimney blows wind in with a bad fume.

Securing my own locks on doors so fragile,
My body always wanting to move so agile.

Leaving your life and entering his,
Wisdom hit but so did his fist.

Sobbing on the cold ground,
I wish I still had you around.

Listening on what to do - my friend’s advice,
Maybe I have to start trying more than twice.

Sending mixed signals and causing trouble,
Will only ever lead to a burst in the bubble.

Lacking thought or too many to count,
So many problems I have to dismount.

Serving my old yet new figure,
My body tired, and oh-so-bitter.

Latching on somebody to stay,
Words cannot explain my feelings at play.

Shouting loud but not loud enough,
My brain's gone into a severe slough.

Crying for extreme help,
I cannot do this by myself.
Cathyy Mar 2016
Would you let me walk you back to school?
And maybe later, teach me how to play pool?..
Oh maybe Friday if you're free,
Play dinosaur mini golf with me?
I know I'm uncool..
But I like who I am when i'm with you

Wont you tell your bro to add me back
Tell him I play guitar too but mostly when I'm sad..
Rock and roll is pretty cool,
And Hip Hop was better when it was old school..
But I write acoustic tunes...
Oh you know I do.

Did you ever get the message that I never sent?
You always said you could read me,
Well did you figure I was upset
When you didn't answer the phone
All these days I've felt alone
Just a little hollow and not okay..
But i'd still be here tomorrow,
Despite yesterday.

Oh I'd still love you tomorrow,
Even if my heart breaks apart today.
Cathyy Oct 2015
I hope I live to see Ed Sheeran, and Taylor swift live, and spend new years in New York
I hope I make the perfect coffee for my future love and maybe even raise a puppy.
I hope my writing actually gets somewhere,
Than just spilled on a random page,
Of a giant internet database
I hope my little quotes and lyrics
Are sketched into teenage journals
I hope I meet my biggest supporter someday, and hang out with them in Disneyland.
I hope everything stops being crazy,
And everything starts becoming clearer
I hope everyday I am alive, I make positive impact.

I hope, I hope
That the Universe notices,
All the times I nearly broke..
Were all the times,
I began to grow.
So i wrote three really deep poems during the age of 17,

The child
The dreamer
The giver

... I feel this isn't really a poem, but a monologue. However, i hope* ;)
... It touches someone.

Please check me out on Youtube,
Just type in "JournalofMusic" and i'm there with like 14/15 videos now... If you help me out with views and stuff i'll always have a reason to keep on writing. :) x

Love ,
Cathy
Cathyy Feb 2016
Flashback,
To that time we played blackjack
I was impressed by your ability to shuffle all the cards just like that,
&then; you showed me a magic trick with pistachio shells
Oh what a friendship it is when someone buys you peanuts and opens all the shells

Yeah confession;
You're in my sci fi screenplay
I think I wrote about you in the most innocent way
And theres a song that,
I currently have on replay...
And a smile that can't help but shine when I see your face
What a moment it is when you're sitting there on the bus and you just want to photograph it

Life's a chess game, and now its your move..
I'm standing on the front line,
I'm giving my horsey to you (haha)
Oh this life's a chess game,
One wrong move and I'll lose....
But here right now we're at a stalemate
All my pieces were going but the piece that remains, patiently waits
For you..
Oh with you I never want the game to end so soon

And I know that we can't fall in love
Cause we've got different ones for us
But what a friendship it is when none of that matters no more..
You're the chess opponent I've been waiting for,
You are.
Really like this one, its one of my best from this year in my opinion! Really personal references..
Elizabeth Zenk Jun 2018
~
Your sweet quiet voice makes my face create new hues .
Almost everything you speak is tasteful.
The ideas of you turn my salty tears into sweet honey, but
honey wouldn't be the right thing to describe my feelings, would it?
Because honey doesn't rot.
It doesn't become bitter.
You are honey.
Sweet and kind and everything I'm not.
I am dark chocolate.
Bitter and jealous and sad.
~
We go together in theory, but more people enjoy sweet than bitter.
You know you can do better than bitter.
They say dark chocolate makes you happy which is funny because
I'm not happy.
Juhlhaus Jan 17
On a misty city morning
still resolved to early rising
I came upon a heap of corpses

They were child sacrifices
made to satisfy the fancy
of Christian capitalist and pagan
and a jolly old fat man
who lives at the North Pole

They might have been

growing tall
in a field or on a hill
drinking sunlight
breathing love songs
in answer to caress of wind

But the silent pines
didn't seem to mind
their broken bodies one last gift
filling my chest with fragrant air
and longings
for fields and hills
on a misty city morning
Mikey Barnes Oct 2018
i have decided i no longer want my jacket back.
the one with no sleeves and the handmade back patch
that i liked to wear over hoodies -
you can keep it.

not that i don't miss my jacket,
because i do.
the louis theroux patch with iron-on backing...
the only somewhat ironic high school musical pin...
the hand-stitched ***** division pink triangle...
it was a ******* cool jacket.
but i no longer want it back.

when i left my jacket hanging on your wardrobe door
we both thought i'd see you soon,
but that was last june
and november's creeping round.
you're a college kid now.
your family packed up and left,
and i guess i'm fine with that
because i no longer want my jacket back.

i will no longer send you passive-agressive messages on facebook, kik, or whatsapp
asking for my jacket back.
when my friends offer to send you vaguely threatening emojis
conveying that they may or may not be willing to throw hands for my jacket,
i will say no.

sometimes i fantasise about what might have happened to my jacket.
i imagine your mother, pragmatic as always,
throwing away every trace of me remaining post-break up.
i picture you in a fit of rage
hacking my hard work to pieces.
i doubt that you took it to new york with you,
but somehow that's the scenario i like the least.

sometimes i think how if i had never met you
i would now own 25% more jackets.
but,
had i never met you,
i would also own 30% fewer pyjama shirts,
several less ****** hang-ups,
and 2 fewer stamps in my passport.

what i'm saying is
no matter what you did with it,
i forgive you
for not mailing it when you promised to.
and i forgive me
for leaving it in the first place.
i no longer want my jacket back,
because it probably wouldn't be the same anyway.
i have been moaning about my ex not returning my jacket to me for over a year now. i guess writing a poem means i'm finally over it?
You need rehab from me, and I’m sorry
but this isn’t healthy.
Admitting being a problem is sobering
And I hope you can recover from my withdrawal.
I’ll be busy detoxing myself, for you
For everyone after you.
I hope you remember how great you are!!
I'll be cheering you on from a far!!
& that you're better off
without
me
broke up with my boyfriend today and it was the classic story, opposites attract but they don't last.. almost everything that was attractive wasn't out of resemblance to one's self, but to the extreme differences in one another.
Struggling to want to communicate, is a red flag
Sanjali Jan 2018
3
-A Name-

Something to call you by,
So that when you leave,
I'll know that I miss you
And I’ll see you in my dreams.
Something to remember,
A face I won’t forget,
And laughter in my memories,
Smiles to cause me torment.
Something to love
And despise till I know
Why you were here
And where you would go.
Something to write
In poetry or songs.
Maybe I’ll write you and me
In a sweet story long.
Something to share~
I wrote this long ago. It is a bittersweet feeling to notice that I keep going back to my old poems to find myself.
Pauper of Prose Aug 2018
Stories browsed by the bedside of budding of children
Told of all the adventure that awaited us
So I ran amok with my compatriots
Every one of us wreathed in youth
Burning with the boundless fuel
Of curiosity
From the streets spilled opportunities
Of Fame, Of Wealth, Of Love
Then eventually the Sun rays Bent
Before bleeding upon the stone
So that we traversed on bricks of yellow
Until sore legs led us
To an enchanted emerald mirror
And as we stared we began to wheeze
Seeing a frail old wizard or witch
Wondering “why” with a whimper
As curtains cradling clocks, crash upon us
An Ode to Oz an Ode to Youth
RaiRaiJewell Sep 2017
Each stroke of the brush with ease
The paint glides across the wall and spell the words running through my mind
The words I speak taste foul
Bittersweet
Which is why they are now in these walls
But the taste is still there
Of all the things to say
Your name is all of thought of today
Have you ever been faithful?
Concerned ?
Sincere?
Bittersweet
My tongue is cold and your name is old through these words on my wall
Over and over again the paint peels and falls to bow at my feet
Bittersweet concrete
Lost in that mind of yours
Clouded by lust is all you want but will never get
Because I regret ever being with you
Umi May 2018
A journey followed by a road, reaching to the distant sky,
Feelings which cannot be conveyed in words, but actions, disappear in the sea of truths and lies, under the drifting clouds of the night,
A red thread, connecting us without having the answer to where it actually leads, meaningless questions remain floating in thin air,
Ages fade but my infinite lifespan, allows me to shine for you forever,
My heart reflects your tears, which before moistened the earth below us, making me overflow with emotions I couldn't even understand,
Space and time, are for me an obsticle, which I must overcome,
So my gaze, even though is fraught with sin, lead you to happiness.
Spread like moondust across a damaged surface, you departed into the unknown of the night, disappearing within layers of darkness,
Yet, I am not sad for even if you may not be with me from now on,
Always cheering for me to move forward, it would be a shame to give up now, even if we had our troubles, fights and sometimes disagreed.
And if we can never return to the past, let's enjoy the allure moonlight
Together we laughed and cried, yet this dream ended today,
What's left are the memories and the feelings I have felt.

~ Umi
sara Jul 2014
there's something in the way the waves ripple upon the shore
there's something in the loudness of whispers you can't ignore

there's something in the way my eyes don't sparkle anymore
and I think there's something about it, but i guess i can't be sure

there's something in the way that we leave this world, alone
and there was danger in the way that, in you, I felt at home

there was something in the way that words just glided from your lips
and there were undertones of poison the last time that we kissed

there's something in the way that tears leave tracks all down your face
and there's something in the way you were gone without a trace

there's something in the way a candle flickers in the dark
and there's a universal understanding that most goodbyes are hard

there's something in the way that words can break a heart
yet there's a gentle kind of beauty in the way we fell apart
coming out of block now, first poem in about a month


bitter isn't better, make peace with your past x
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