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Jordan Rowan Aug 2015
I'm leaving tomorrow
But I'm staying today
Before the dawn
I'll be gone away
No one watches me walk away
I'm leaving tomorrow
But I'm staying today

I've put myself
In the shape I'm in
My head is heavy
And my body's thin
Will someone please let me in?
I'm leaving tomorrow
But I'm staying today

I'm wearing rags
In sleeping bags
I'm drinking coffee
With homeless hags
I don't mean to be a drag
I'll be leaving tomorrow
Can I stay the day?
Please don't throw me away
The Spider Jan 2016
Our Autumn has arrived, but I don’t predict another spring.
The Autumn leaves are here to stay
but Autumn herself leaves.
Her wake
forever freezes us over, petrifying us to watch the sufferage.
The sufferage of the people around us.
Starvation, damnation, and crimes that are uncontrolable.
The autumn leaves are here to stay
but Autumn herself must leave.
I leave along side her, I am not here to stay
and watch you fall apart.
Your Autumn has arrived, but I really don’t predict another spring.
I wrote this for an english project in 9th grade. We had to use a song and build a poem from it
Helena May 2018
like yellow flowers
on faded dreams
you came to me
gently,
with the soothing voice
of a sweaty spring
thank you, old friend
for being able to be
dark enough to see
the hidden light
in me

i will not go into the times we shared
asphyxia and summer air
juxtaposed to form
an inseparable pair

who am I, old friend
when the ship´s horn blares
if you made me who I am
(if you made me scarce)

like yellow flowers
on faded dreams
you left me
softly, without
any warning of
the lack of color
(there would be)
without your splendor
Peter Garrett Sep 25
You spoke about leaving
So often and for so long
That I didn't believe
You'd be gone
I just wish I was there for you... something to regret every day.
Jasmin Jul 2015
forget me
i don’t want you to get attached
to someone like me
i leave people behind
without any words coming out from my mouth
i just act like it is our last day
and a lifetime goodbye.
don’t ask why i left
just forget everything about me,
erase the memories
and continue living life.
i might regret my decision
but you won’t regret your future.
One of my Tumblr posts.
Vish Sep 2018
You shouldn’t have come if leaving was all you had in mind

You do not deserve these words of mine and yet here I am writing line after line of heartache that you caused me

Because it is these words that help me cope with your unpleasant and unwelcoming departure

Thank you for leaving for it showed me that I am so much better off without someone who chooses not to appreciate the beauty that lies within me
to all the people who broke my heart
Emma Sep 2018
The best part about you leaving
Is forgetting you.
It’s as though the sugar you injected into me
To keep me sweet for you,
And only you,
Is dying off;
Slowly but surely,
Until the only part of you that will
Remain in my body
Is the notch in my heart.

You will always own that
Notch in my heart.
It will always make me care for you,
And make it like my heart always beat for two.
It will always skip a beat
When I see you in the streets.
The smell of burnt tobacco
Will always make my hands tie knots into the bedsheets,
All for you.

I used to believe
That with your sweet honey
Injected into my heart,
I would never be able to forget you,
Much less let you go.
But now, I see that lovers will
Come and go.
You do not own the sweet tune
That makes me undress for you;
And better will come after you.
You leaving hurt, yes,
But without you I am whole.
Jamie Jan 5
I am being scratched from the inside out
My ribcage bares nail marks
Wings are pushing underneath my back

And before I know it,
Black feathers are falling to my feet

A blanket made of night swallows me whole
And I'm free
Lizzy Apr 2015
So now I'm alone again,
Wishing we were more than friends.
You made me feel wanted,
With you I was home.
Now I'm begging you please,
Don't go.
I'm not good on my own.

This blindside,
It's knocked me off my feet.
You feel guilty,
I feel dead.
I never should have showed you,
What goes on in my head.
Dear god what's wrong with me?

What is it,
That makes everyone leave?
Is it the way that I look?
Do I talk in my sleep?
You say it's not me,
But I'm the one you're leaving.
We're crying in my room,
My cries have turned to screams.

So now I'm alone again,
Wishing this would end.
Torn between running back,
And never seeing you again.
How do you take back,
All those things you said?
You feel guilty,
I feel dead.

This is what's inside my head.
You feel guilty,
I feel dead.
This is gonna be one angsty Pop punk song
ryn Oct 2014
Elated to see you aloft in the night sky
To what do I owe this enchanted boon.
In the merry company of winking stars,
Enthralled by this sight as I admire my moon.

Bathe me in your streaks of translucent silver.
Accompany me through my sleepless nights.
Watching over me with unwavering vigil.
Swathe me in whispers of peaceful respite.

Oh how you govern the raging tides of my soul.
Rest your gaze as the waters break upon my shore...
Erode and weaken the load strewn over my burning shoals,
Sands drowned breathless but craving for more.

Few nights now... Smitten as you coyly turn away.
Thick strands of shadow clad hair in gentle cascades,
Alluringly obscuring a slight fraction of your face.
A tiny crescent blanketed away; into the blackness it fades.

More nights pass... Now I see only a lesser moon
Leaving me with only half; darkness so had claimed.
Please make yourself last; you mustn't leave too soon,
I'm not ready to be left crippled and maimed.

I silently look up as more nights go by.
I watched my lunar love dissolving into space.
My heart too, torn away a morsel at a time...
Finally she had gone; without a sliver or a trace.

Every nightfall since is rife with emptiness and despair.
I asked the stars if they could soothe my gaping void...
But they'd only twinkle in indifference...
Regardless of the pleas I've employed.

Unsure of how many rises it has thus been.
Nights only brought the onslaught of mocking stars above.
Still I toy with the promises made overhead,
For the awaited return of my crazed elusive love.

I know it's frivolous to think I'm the only one...
There are others who pine just as I do.
But I yearn the most for your sought after attention,
For our hearts have sung in every colour and every hue.

Anxiety at peak, dismayed almost broken,
Then I hear a sweet song sung; distant and far.
A song that shared the words we once had spoken,
Again enveloped in translucent silver, with relief I sighed...,
                          *"There you are..."
Inspired by the lunar cycle...
Tori Ginter Jul 2018
You didn’t even call...
I told on Monday how I’d only had a couple days till I was gone.
But that wasn’t enough for you
I’d have to be dying in order for you to call
Little do you know I am, it’s why I must leave this place that is killing me slowly.
But I still have hope
A dream
You’ll be standing there at the end of the aisle right before I  board.
I will drop my bags and run as fast as I can into you
You’ll be the excuse I’ve been looking for to stay
But the reality is
You’re the excuse that makes me have to leave.
Your silence screams leave more than goodbye
William Keckler Oct 2014
Must go. Cannot explain.
The sadness is on the table.
I left you as much as half
of everything I own.
Maybe more.
Spend it how you like.
I know you will anyway.
This is no joke.
The marriage painting is fixed.
The key is under
your lover's pillow.
Tell the cat
Vive La France for me.
summer lays across the valley
as silk lays across her body
shrouding subtle contours as she sleeps
beneath the morning mist her dream keeps

to wait for her eyes to open
is to wait for time to be unfrozen
i whisper to her as she sleeps
so into her dreams my heart seeps

in a hint of azure eyes
from the mist my heart will rise
and go with you from your pillow
into your life my dreams will follow
O  my precious-
Leaving looms as a huge black vulture before me
And I am terrified.

I cannot buy him off with tears or with pleading
And I cannot hide from his seeking eyes.

All the courage I promised myself has fled me
And I tremble alone in my fear.

What will become of this raging inferno
When the winds of distance fan it.
Will it flash higher or gutter and die.
The colossal dark bird doesn’t answer.

He only stands watching
As uncaring clock hands
Drag me ever closer.

The world goes out of focus with my longing.
Just one moment more, a minute, an hour-
A lifetime would be not enough.

O my beloved-
I hear his wings flapping, waiting for me
And I crumble.

Somehow I must find a face
With some valor in it that can say goodbye
And not drown us both in sorrow.

That can watch you go
For an ever of evers
And not cry out against our very  God.

I am so small
And your gift is so great
How shall I conquer this parting.

In this, my hour of panic I would sell all of my past
For one half of its time in the future.
But the ebony bird isn’t buying.

He’s only beckoning me
And I must go
And I MUST go

O my true lover, I must go.

I had a brain freeze and attached the wrong title to this one. "Parting" is sadder and less angry sounding than "leaving". And I was absolutley crushed the night I wrote that and flew 6,000 miles away the next morning.
#separation     #parting       #sadness     #loneliness
Dark Fjord Nov 2016
I am sorry, to forgive  
who moved your flower
to push your knees apart to know.

in thy choir, I wrote to kneel-
When we met in thy vespers hour -

and in the between
your feasts were great
and we kissed  the greats of choir.

I left not one wounded man behind.
toward the darkness of notes I go.
Lou Dec 2017
If there were better words
I would sing 'em.

For now,
Silence is a crowd
And I'm making it as their leader.

Or only true believer,
In words.
Or lack of them,
regardless,

It's a mute commute to what you want.

Was it my bad, behavior?
that was feeling you-
before you were feeling me
around my neck

I get it.
Out of respect
and for heart murmurs

Its true,
I can feel it;
Me, mute is a commute that you want

This train had to keep moving.
The conductors wife is at bay.
Many people are apologetic.
But many more have destinations to make.

Like crying baby.
And a grin,
from a lonely man in his gazing,
fading lying chair.

For you
And me-
In this booth.

Mute is our commute to what we want.
Mute is our commute to what we want.
Wrote this when someone was slowly fading out of my life
Tommy Randell May 2017
Today I Zagged
When I should have Zigged
I settled for safe
When I should have bigged.

An old man's fancy
I'm glad it's still there
That I will always want to
Leap up from my chair.

But time to be grateful
For the way out when it's offered
Now the Spring is Sprung
And my knees have turned awkward.

I'll settle I think
For the Brandy & Port
And not dwell on what I didn't
But that I did what I ought.

Better not to take risks
A week from retirement
In Work, at Play
As the Flirt-er or the Flirt-ant.

Age has as it's envoi
A phrase or two worth while
Leave the Zig-Zag to the young
Make them smile, if you can,
Make them smile.

Tommy Randell 2017 05 16 00:34 BST
The great and glorious game
has many twists and turns
and Age should not blame Youth
for the lessons it must learn
A Aug 2015
I came home to you one day,
Your things all packed
like you were going away

"Change of plans?" I asked.

"Change of heart."

a.g
Grace Spellman Feb 2017
I found somebody who carries my soul gently.
He took the demons you left me with and cast them all out.;
He planted flowers where you left weeds.
Although I was nothing but a dimly lit star to you, he sees the opposite.
I am his sun, he is my moon.
And together we rule the galaxy.
He takes care of me like no one has ever before.

-Thank you for leaving, for if you hadn't I would never have found my diamond in the rough.
don’t leave me!
(the leaving is in the writing)

she whispers in his ear,
after they’ve climbed into bed,
their tiring bodies both embraced,
soft sunken into, by, a familiar mattress,
after a sophisticates city night out seeing stars,
stars, human and astral,
city lights dusk heightened the vocal sparking,
singers singing songs of love from
radio days long ago

don’t leave me

she intones, a prayerful demand,
equally a command and a begging behest,
puzzling what prompted this pressed request,
spoken with urgency born in her breast

don’t leave me
drifting off and into his thin place,
but tugged back by this cri du coeur,
unsponsored and unwarranted,
nothing recalled that justly provoked,
a statement topping of anguish and fear

don’t leave me
he repeats in a rising questioning inflecting
puzzling riddling unbefitting a mellow-toning sleepy ingredient,
whatever do you mean, I leave you only
to dream, to purify, refresh and deep rest reset,
and return come morning with new poems,
what angst comes to stir this asking,
delaying my adventure to nightly restoration?

don’t leave me
repeated and repeated, dressed in urgency,
for I see the little things,
the wavering walk, the slowing of the thinking,
the walls, black n’ blue, whining about your into bumping,
the instant eagerness with which your body accepts
your voyage to dream places where
one goes and gone and must go unaccompanied,
some who are chosen and some who choose, not to return

don’t leave me
for the signs are ample, a certain weariness
dresses your face and crowns thy graying mane,
the slight labored breathing from steps once
bounded and leapt, the seeing and the hearing,
each slightly weakening, two orchestral instruments,
together off key and lessened in their triumphal vigor,
these words of mine, a royal guard,
keep them in your dreams

don’t leave me
minor missteps in the elongated negated of dying gracefully,
my tuning forks are sensitized,
and any slowing motion
both visible and hearable, and filed under inevitable

I will not leave you tonight,
my body warming as per usual,
your cold feet intruders indicate it’s you have left
for your own nightly visitors, occasional terrors,
you’ve woken me from my allotted sleep hours,
many poems now retrieving and in need of scribing,
while the fingertip digit flys across the digital keyboard,

I am more alive than I have ever been;
the leaving is in the writing,
each poem a steppingstone,

but the poems come fast and furious,
sometimes two at a time, the muses are bemused,
the prognosis is for thousands more and warn:

do not wear out your olive oil anointed forefinger,
the lubricated pointer of the way, wherein is contained

through that index
finger,
your body of works in the
“yet to arrive, yet untaxed filling station,”,
must be seen to fruition,
for it is only then that,
only love poetry
is ready for long lasting
eternal realization





5:36am 12th April, two thousand nineteen
Alyan Khan Jun 6
and there, amidst nothing
we vanished like moon in the mists

looking for a ray of light
in the darkest of nights,
until it was morning,
once more
and we woke up from the dream,
once more
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