"familiarised" poems - Hello Poetry

You knocked I opened the door, in you came. At first you felt safe as you settled in, familiarised yourself with my space with my most intimate belongings. Then you slowly but determinedly vandalised my space. I asked you to stop, to leave. Each time you went out the front door you insidiously returned through the back door when I was not looking. You burglarised my heart, my soul, my mind. Your lies and deception became my super glue You knew it and you abused it. I wasn’t swift enough to get away. At first we were easy, as time went on a knot formed in my stomach. Tightening and tightening I never knew what was next. You locked me into your deception. Fierce enough to keep me where you wanted, as you wanted. You walked away no better than a con-artist, A thief A thief of my heart, my soul, my mind You know what you did Now I see it clearly I will take you on As I find my feet again And regain my space My resolve To face you in a court of law To challenge your abuse of my soul and mind.

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Feb 19, 2013

Feb 19, 2013 at 10:06 AM UTC

patricia-tsouros

When I was Not Looking

You knocked I opened the door, in you came. At first you felt safe as you settled in, familiarised yourself with my space with my most intimate belongings. Then you slowly but determinedly vandalised my space. I asked you to stop, to leave. Each time you went out the front door you insidiously returned through the back door when I was not looking. You burglarised my heart, my soul, my mind. Your lies and deception became my super glue You knew it and you abused it. I wasn’t swift enough to get away. At first we were easy, as time went on a knot formed in my stomach. Tightening and tightening I never knew what was next. You locked me into your deception. Fierce enough to keep me where you wanted, as you wanted. You walked away no better than a con-artist, A thief A thief of my heart, my soul, my mind You know what you did Now I see it clearly I will take you on As I find my feet again And regain my space My resolve To face you in a court of law To challenge your abuse of my soul and mind.

33

I used to hate the smell of cigarettes and coffee. But now I've become familiarised to it and actually find myself longing for the scent I’ve grown to love the smell just as I've grown to love you. When you would kiss me it tasted of stale cigarettes and bitter coffee with a hint of whisky. I used to be disgusted by it but now I find myself intoxicated by your kisses The farther you pushed me away the more I wanted to be near you. Now you've gone And I've never felt closer to the very thing that ruined me; The very thing that left me craving bitter coffee and stale cigarettes – Stale Coffee and Bitter Cigarettes // F.C.

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Nov 23, 2016

Nov 23, 2016 at 5:08 PM UTC

Mystery-Poet

Stale Coffee and Bitter Cigarettes

I used to hate the smell of cigarettes and coffee. But now I've become familiarised to it and actually find myself longing for the scent I’ve grown to love the smell just as I've grown to love you. When you would kiss me it tasted of stale cigarettes and bitter coffee with a hint of whisky. I used to be disgusted by it but now I find myself intoxicated by your kisses The farther you pushed me away the more I wanted to be near you. Now you've gone And I've never felt closer to the very thing that ruined me; The very thing that left me craving bitter coffee and stale cigarettes – Stale Coffee and Bitter Cigarettes // F.C.

10

It was the first time The first time words felt Like sparks "clearing" electric charges To each individual I found residing in my womb Creating heat signatures, dripping sleeves of string Off of their tiny bodies that defy gravity Unveiling the beauty of a sensation Never known before she said Those Three Words. Words left too familiarised That used to echo numbingly Like the violent stab of a harmless ghost. It was my first time, The first time a simple gaze & touch Would increase the tempo of the small set in timpani Beating this double crotchet rhythm Behind it's natural cages First time I'd felt so excited First time I'd felt so scared The first time Words sent sparks to awaken the creatures in my womb The first time the timpani behind my ribs beat from seeing her in the same room The first time Those Three Words Gave me butterflies I'm so happy it was with you.

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Nov 12, 2017

Nov 12, 2017 at 7:57 PM UTC

neo-morake

Butterflies

It was the first time The first time words felt Like sparks "clearing" electric charges To each individual I found residing in my womb Creating heat signatures, dripping sleeves of string Off of their tiny bodies that defy gravity Unveiling the beauty of a sensation Never known before she said Those Three Words. Words left too familiarised That used to echo numbingly Like the violent stab of a harmless ghost. It was my first time, The first time a simple gaze & touch Would increase the tempo of the small set in timpani Beating this double crotchet rhythm Behind it's natural cages First time I'd felt so excited First time I'd felt so scared The first time Words sent sparks to awaken the creatures in my womb The first time the timpani behind my ribs beat from seeing her in the same room The first time Those Three Words Gave me butterflies I'm so happy it was with you.

27

A shard of glass was stabbed into me. unwanted, uninvited. It stuck, familiarised, but unmentioned. I tried to pull it out, but it was watched By darkened shadows Painted as friendly flowers. I pulled it free But the sun sank The shadows freed The shard replaced Repeatedly.

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Sep 29, 2016

Sep 29, 2016 at 6:16 AM UTC

fiona-flavin

Scars

A shard of glass was stabbed into me. unwanted, uninvited. It stuck, familiarised, but unmentioned. I tried to pull it out, but it was watched By darkened shadows Painted as friendly flowers. I pulled it free But the sun sank The shadows freed The shard replaced Repeatedly.

11