"jittering" poems - Hello Poetry

You cause a break inside my organs Pointing out my flaws our differences. You are at peace. I sit jittering, worrying what everyone will think of when I didn’t care you made me laugh at everything Changes. You’re not right for me Nor I for you, but I can’t help Thinking What if? Then I remember you’re not what nor Everything I want. You are an intellectual snob you have a depth about you I would love to delve in, a psychological study that even the best critics would praise, but I don’t want anyone else to have been there or ever go there. I cannot hold on to you tear me away while You’re haphazardly gluing us together We’re a kindergarten art project messy, trying to see Beauty within the confusion, unfinished You asked me Where am I most at peace 4 years old. I could be anything No fears I hadn’t been ripped apart. I was the girl that said everything, until I felt the need to screen my thoughts, like the filter you use to make your coffee each morning. I wish that’s where I was, having you tell me that you like your women like your coffee Dark and bitter. I can look past your chauvinistic ways, not giving a **** about anyone. You’re not really closed minded You just act like it, which annoys the hell out of me Sometimes. I wish life was simple. But then I would never know your complexities nor Feel the things you help me feel, like hate for train whistles or the burn of gin hitting my throat. Music you introduce me to offstage trumpets, bad movies. Your politics, your brown eyes and how you can hear frequencies that most everyone else can’t. I worry that you hear the fear in my voice and heartbreak With every word I speak. When were you going to tell me? Or was that your plan all along? To throw me out like yesterday’s coffee grounds or cut up scraps Used and unwanted. I wish I could tell you to tell her you don’t want her but me instead, you don’t, I don’t want you to. I want holding hands, laughter comfort, personality, humor, intellect. You want that plus things I can’t give But you always take. You are your coffee disgusting, caffeinated, addicting the only patch that helps is comforting words you never spoke. We had many conversations of your desires, lusts, mistakes, but I was burned, by lies, distrust. You left, like always, a harsh, acidic aftertaste on my tongue.

0

Apr 18, 2014

Apr 18, 2014 at 10:20 AM UTC

am7

Coffee

You cause a break inside my organs Pointing out my flaws our differences. You are at peace. I sit jittering, worrying what everyone will think of when I didn’t care you made me laugh at everything Changes. You’re not right for me Nor I for you, but I can’t help Thinking What if? Then I remember you’re not what nor Everything I want. You are an intellectual snob you have a depth about you I would love to delve in, a psychological study that even the best critics would praise, but I don’t want anyone else to have been there or ever go there. I cannot hold on to you tear me away while You’re haphazardly gluing us together We’re a kindergarten art project messy, trying to see Beauty within the confusion, unfinished You asked me Where am I most at peace 4 years old. I could be anything No fears I hadn’t been ripped apart. I was the girl that said everything, until I felt the need to screen my thoughts, like the filter you use to make your coffee each morning. I wish that’s where I was, having you tell me that you like your women like your coffee Dark and bitter. I can look past your chauvinistic ways, not giving a **** about anyone. You’re not really closed minded You just act like it, which annoys the hell out of me Sometimes. I wish life was simple. But then I would never know your complexities nor Feel the things you help me feel, like hate for train whistles or the burn of gin hitting my throat. Music you introduce me to offstage trumpets, bad movies. Your politics, your brown eyes and how you can hear frequencies that most everyone else can’t. I worry that you hear the fear in my voice and heartbreak With every word I speak. When were you going to tell me? Or was that your plan all along? To throw me out like yesterday’s coffee grounds or cut up scraps Used and unwanted. I wish I could tell you to tell her you don’t want her but me instead, you don’t, I don’t want you to. I want holding hands, laughter comfort, personality, humor, intellect. You want that plus things I can’t give But you always take. You are your coffee disgusting, caffeinated, addicting the only patch that helps is comforting words you never spoke. We had many conversations of your desires, lusts, mistakes, but I was burned, by lies, distrust. You left, like always, a harsh, acidic aftertaste on my tongue.