"nevers" poems
I wish I believe it when people say they'll never leave,
But I still taste the salty tears of the goodbye note you wrote,
The lullabies of heartfelt cries,
An those times I was to good at say goodbye,
Behind my pain-filled eyes,
I see a girl I use to recognize,
A healing heart,
On a open battlefield,
A little girl trying to believe the bedtime story she told,
But being told by her soul the real world,
One where princess have to wait for there Prince Charming,
One where the frog kisses the wrong princess,
One where the fairy godmother is to late,
And one where she broke her shoe,
her carriage has become a cage,
When her hair as faded from every page turn,
The war that has been raged inside her,
Because she afraid to believe in one day,
She afraid to believe the nevers and the forevers,
Because she seen everyday turn to parades of the same fake forces daze,
To never forget that life to short to trust salt,
That was confused for sugar,
That being nice with only take you so far,
And that one day,
You wake up feeling the same,
You'll flap our wings one more time,
And sing your fairytale song,
And your true love will sing along,
You’ll remember what it like to dream,
And believe it could be a happily ever after,
And wake up in a world,
Of your own,
And those goodbyes,
Will turn to mournful cries from forgotten peoples eyes,
Because just than they will realize,
There boring lives,
As she thrives,
She survives,
And now truly now,
She good at goodbyes,
And hardly recognized,
For the rest of her life
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 12:35 AM UTC
I'm too despressed to notice I'm stressed out
Suppressed emotions inside, shouldn't let out
Seeing is believing but what I see isn't real
I am forced to accept these "realities" and ignore the way I feel
I don't mean to sadden, entertain, bore, or aggravate,
For a decade I find that this is how I communicate
The only way I can precisely speak out on the unhealthy pleasures
As the chemicals of my brain, they fornicate
These levels of relationships aren't supposed to be
It'll **** me sometime later, look at how it has ruined my personality
Seeing is believing, but you won't believe what I see
How can I act 'normal' when you won't acknowledge I can't do 'human being'
My animalistic compulsions are fuelled by my failing brain functions
Don't get too close cause I'll try to bite, I sympathise for your flesh when I malfuntion
Don't be scared, I'm not canibalistic, I just like to use my teeth
Humans scare me, I must defend myself, uh, I mean, to smile and eat
I'm not afraid to say it, but I'm scared when I'm saying it, I have to say
I have been observing your mundane human actions, I really don't want to be put away
I always feel foreign, alienated, out-of-place
But because I'm "considerate," I have to bite my tongue to save me some face
I'm too stressed out to notice that I'm depressed
Wanting mental soundessnes, yes, peace, my hallucinations don't give me rest
My taughts speed down their highway, my delusions are always a-fest
They inflict beneath my exterior, but for the public eye, I wear a crest
"I wear my skin well, don't you think?" I lie, becuase it ill-fits
I am totally normal, "I'm fine." Can't change the fact I'm a misfit.
The beams that bear my bag of meat rust and thus begin to weaken
The lethal sagging's caused by the mental luggage, I'm not heard, even though I'm speaking
Many persons think that I'm overly paranoid, I must admit, that I am
You would be the same way too, if about your health, no one ever gives a ****
Help doesn't come, because their 'laters' always becomes 'nevers'
I am not that superhuman, can't keep myself together, forever
They claim that they would help me, some way, somehow, but their actions never initiate
Someday, sometime, it would all be over, through a thorough death physical or mental
Oh yes, I'm still believing, you can't accuse me of not having faith.
I look forward to my healing, but all the while, my brain chemicals fornicate.
Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 7:18 PM UTC
kiss him while you still have the chance
kiss him
because his love will fade
with the summer heat
kiss him again
because his forevers
will turn into nevers
kiss him once more
because summer loves
only lead to winter heartbreaks
kiss him goodbye and never look back
Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 4:31 PM UTC
I grew up in a religious home,
they implemented this dream
that one day ill be come a priest
And it was the only way to make them happy.
I lived this silly dream up until the end of 5th grade when i realized,
There is no god.
Fore how can a man of such holy stature commit all these heinous crimes against his own "children".
I was 10 years old when i realized i had enough, that my voice needed to be heard.
They dont talk about little boys getting molested, almost intentionally looking away as if it never happens.
Us boys are taught a long list of rules from a young age to never cry, never show fear, never back down, just a whole lot of nevers.
But I was never taught to deal with a grown man inside me.
Believe me it hurt, it hurt more than any pain i have felt to this day.
What made it worse was the one inside me, my father.
At first it started off innocent enough, he was drunk and didnt know what he was doing.
But it soon progressed into a side business he ran under the table
"20 dollars, 20 mins"
At 8 years old, brandy became my best friend. She was the only thing that numbed my pain, although forced down my throat so I wont fight back, I learned to enjoy the burn.
A year later i went to my first party.
Months of getting beat down and broke all was ment for this day.
23 guys; one boy.
Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 5:52 AM UTC
let’s write poems
together
tell each other
secrets
stay up all night
it’s the only way
to keep it
let’s scrap book
forever
glue in
all the pieces
photograph
memories
rough-draft
remedies
the trials
and errors
The nows
and nevers
Let’s write poems
together
of life without
regrets
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 2:53 AM UTC
Perihelion days are here
Whale music and poison kitchens
From rainbows to shadows
This is the ripening
In a house of 1,000 rooms
A girl waved her finger to follow
But swaying her translucent dress
I saw the girl was hollow
Candles in the rain
Battles and butchery
Accidental intoxicants
Take your easel to the streets
Find another road
Avoid the body police
It’s a still world but moving mind
We all end up dead meat
I see them in a psychedelic state
But there’s no love
I met them in an overcrowded place
But it’s no home
Perihelion days are here
As the hours fill with nevers
This is the ripening
Fake flowers last forever
Jul 3, 2012
Jul 3, 2012 at 3:39 PM UTC
*I dont want you to write me poetry
I can do that for both of us*
**I dont want you to compare my eyes to sunset
Or, my mind to some sea of undiscovered depth
I just want you to see me for who im-
Dully ordinary in all my deeds**
*I dont want you to be breathtakingly handsome
We could be too cute for two ugly people*
**I dont want you to speak all those fancy big words
And get me a bouqet of rose every night
Just be there with me, be my light, when all i see is in shades of blacknwhite
And on the brightest day, tolerate my lights if i outshine you**
*I don't want you to understand each action of mine; to decode every word
Just promise not to give up on trying; never give up on me*
**I dont want you to fix me
Just be patient with me while i glue back all that is left from my last heartbreak
I might run in opp. Direction at your approach
But ill always find my way back to you**
*I don't want you to give me forevers and mouthful of nevers
Time is a **** as we both know*
**If you can and if you may,
Just love me in this very moment
Cause forever is nothing but all these moments stitched together**
I dont't want you to tell me you love me
But please, just do love me
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 2:16 AM UTC
Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation,
But they were very much conscious.
Loving every minute of vacation,
Thoroughly adventurous.
An act that seemed to revive not just their souls,
But every atom, cell and ***** in their bodies.
Lived for those nights huddled up in arms (Goals!)
Even though time just couldn’t care less.
Carelessly dashing by without regard (its new foes!)
Even as this act would lead to many more worries.
Fast forward now; and they craved it more than ever.
Would it happen again, or am I forever trapped in nevers?
Can’t handle the pressure, brain’s got a fever.
At this rate, gonna be swiping left and right forever.
Bones dry, deep down I crave love and connection.
Sorely waiting for those sparks to keep an ********
More like an ***** sin.
Caught between a rock and a hard place.
A truth I once held close, feels like a lie I’m locked in
(I’m everything and nothing)
For where do I belong? Everywhere and nowhere
Except with my first love.
I long to meet someone like you.
Soft lips, beautiful eyes, luscious hair,
and a strong, gentle soul that softens the hearts of the hardest of men.
Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 6:32 PM UTC
Little by little, I will learn from you
Each and everyday.
All your laughs and laments;
Naughts and nevers;
In every detail of your own story
And in every inch of your soul.
May our journey keep us together
Always and forever.
Hands of ours writing our story yet
Intertwined on the other.
May every moment we make,
Every memory and regret,
Remembered evermore.
Nov 30, 2017
Nov 30, 2017 at 11:01 AM UTC
My little English unstable friend,
Wobbling out of sidewalks onto streets, that lead to nevers
Alleyways and deadends
Along the wharf the parkway bends
The sailor has been thus way forever,
But you are but a drunken carpenter,
Your legs are accustomed to roofs and hallways, the legs get all wobbly on
This stream and even some astute drunken sailors have drowned, but keep up stumble on ways into the blackness become a floating warning
Come tomorrow morn, lad.
You know.
The faults of all are envy lust and too much broth at the bar,
The bar, the bar down on
Wharf avenue.
Jan 22, 2019
Jan 22, 2019 at 12:29 AM UTC
i,
I
am real
my gender is real
my sexuality is real
despite everything and everyone telling me that they're not —
I am real as ****
Maybe that's why you're confused by me.
Maybe it's because you're used to a resolution that's less than 8-bit.
Maybe it's because you're used to a pixelated existence.
Maybe it's because all that you can compute
are 0s and 1s.
***** and *****
lips and *****
Maybe that's why you're afraid of me.
Because you're afraid of what you're going to see in high resolution.
Because you're afraid to see exactly what you've been missing out on.
Becuase I'm not coded in binary, hexadecimal, Base32 or 64,
but Base∞
and I code myself in a language
that I am constantly learning
and creating simultaneously,
let's have an interesting conversation
...supurfluous, unnecessary, confusing...
words spoken by the able, the unwilling
to take a closer look at my pupils —
dilating in high definition.
In fact, the definition is so high
that you'll have climb from my genitals
all the way up into my heart to see me for who I am.
Yes, I realize that binary is necessary for the basis of computation.
But we're past that now.
We don't only have ifs and thens.
We've got ands, ors, buts, maybes, sometimes, always, and nevers.
We've got infinities.
We've got forevers.
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 9:26 PM UTC
Lately I've been all alone
finding myself on my own
my headphones blaring Eminem and Evanescence
All that gloom in my room brings an essence
of sorrow to their eyes and the darker side
of my heart spreads with no place to hide
blackened by the truth of life
bloodied by the blade of my knife
truthful lyrics sting behind my eyes
as rhymes and beats shout lies
poetry dances around my head
some wishing that my heart was dead
but I cannot give in, the urge is too great
I cannot help but feel that this is now my fate.
Resigned to a world of bleak endeavors
passionless protests of never say nevers.
I promise to you, I won't be far.
Just look to the night sky, to the nearest star.
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 8:02 PM UTC
the sun splits the sky like a blistered wound
as your tired lips sag upon your sallow canvas-face
like a painting faded in the rain
former vibrancy smeared beneath your eyes
with the deceptions of your make-up bag
and a sleeping dragon curls within your stomach
with its claws maiming your innards
and its nostrils setting you aflame from inside
while taunting spiders begin their twisting dance upon your limbs
as a demon's sinuous-clawed finger etches into your skin
"never never"
you wear the scars like a consolation prize
as if they were a bar code upon your generic flesh
and you are broken nails and missed deadlines and fast food meals
as the words in your head are as large as billboards
but as small as the fine print you never read
the dragon awakens within your stomach
its roars echoing within your skull like a mad symphony
as you collapse and crumple like an unwanted love note
and the dragon rips through your flesh
hollowing you like a discarded cocoon
extinguishing the last of your once-burning passion
the tormenting spiders resume their spiraling dance
and with impassive resignation you extend your arm graciously
to the demon who indifferently tattoos
"forever"
Jan 13, 2012
Jan 13, 2012 at 2:37 AM UTC
Monsters are depicted one dimensionally
Paintings illustrate the difficult decisions
This is the observer's farce
Blood on one's hands paint the canvas
Fingers comb through the valleys
Defining the geography of pain
Trauma sets in, and out goes precision
Distorting one image to reflect another
A change is needed in perspective's pallete
Hands soak to wash away the day view
The crimson stain nevers leaves,
Vibrant ideas left to wade in the murkiness
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 3:39 PM UTC
bring me sunken ships. bring me the
daniel that called your name through
can't and nevers. he waited like a
switchback earring for the roller coaster
to simply answer a simple question in
regards to salt flats in Utah. the all-ages
cross-dress was broken in two and
expected to dance for the window washers
incorporated slogans, in what sense did the
teacher employ simile in the following sentence?
I like to like, it's like love but it's like. whistles and
bears make a combination as deadly as nitrogen
and nuclear fusion. any relation would have it's
way in Greek sandals marking Tumblr asks and
wondering where the littler of the 7 was born.
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 6:57 PM UTC
There is so much of you,
so little of me.
Feeling quite encumbered.
Your touch envelops my senses.
Eyes of fire, ignited.
I might be somewhere flying,
when your wings lie still--displaced.
Confusions of sudden fervor.
Listening, waiting, informing.
Nevers happen when cement dries.
Abrasions don't wash away.
I'm climbing up the traces.
The world's parade of faces.
Searching, never finding hope.
So much of you,
so little of me.
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 12:26 PM UTC
You told yourself 25 was a good age to die
Ghosting on the tail end of youth,
The Grey would never touch you.
But 25 is here, and the razor is coppered from neglect
And the pills in the cabinet have long lost their voice from bitter age.
25 is here, and you're reminded of the deal you made with Death at 18
When the weight of life nearly killed you
And your idea of hope was the promise of an early grave.
25 is here, and you don't want to die
But the burden of years that have not yet arrived
Press down on your shoulders like the heavy hands of unwanted men.
And yet.
You don't want to die.
So you rely on your emergency exits
collecting dust under tarnished jewelry and gold-strangled hair ties.
Like old friends you meet up with once a decade, you pacify their need for acknowledgement,
Weaving nevers into not yets with empty promises and shallow reassurances,
Brushing off their needling whispers as they bounce off another day gone by.
Because you're 25.
And you're not done yet.
Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 2:01 AM UTC
Astonished and flabbergasted,
How come one can be so different yet the same?
A parallel of a non existent soulmate in which they thrive within me yet invoke no emotions?
A kindred soul, familiar yet uncertain of crooked paths and left roads?
What is this torture, a forever nonmalleable figure,
built of prisms of me, pieces and bits strung together in the shape of an inexcusable beauty.
This is me, yet it is not.
This is us yet there is me and you.
A mirror that tells;
a mirror that warps;
might-haves and would-nevers.
A distant yet familiar embrace unobtainable.
Utterly wicked display of one's fate;
To realize that your shadow is what you will never be close with.
Feb 21, 2023
Feb 21, 2023 at 11:39 AM UTC
My
‘Scars of Insanity,’
I called them.
I now think that
‘Scars of Ugliness’
better fits them.
The ugliness I carved into myself,
to remind everyone that I will
never
be good enough.
I will
never
have enough,
enough of anything.
Not enough
motivation,
sanity...
talent.
Never again will I be
confident enough to
believe
in anything;
Except my
faith,
the only stable thing in my life...
at the moment.
Never again will I be
happy,
for my mind will
never
allow it.
I can never go back,
back to when I was
happy;
oblivious,
in my own naivety.
Never
ever
again
will I hear the
laughter
of my
used-to-be clan
of sisters...
all but one have left me;
have abandoned me,
attacked me before giving me a
chance.
But I did nothing wrong.
At least, I think I didn’t.
I don’t know,
they never told me.
And now I’m left in my own
mourning
of the innocence I used to have.
With my innocence left my
naivety,
sanity,
joy.
Just like Everyman in the ancient play,
nothing but one thing remains;
except this time, it’s not my good deeds.
The only thing that clings to me is the
evilness
of my own mind.
It will
ALWAYS
be there, taunting, teasing,
tormenting...
torturing.
Always there to remind me that I will
NEVER
go back again.
I’m trapped,
stuck,
to be miserable the
rest
of
my
life.
But hey,
maybe I’m meant to be miserable.
Everything happens for a reason...
right?
Nov 4, 2011
Nov 4, 2011 at 12:28 AM UTC
I would be content to be a constant star,
or better still, a constellation
shining brightly in your nighttime from afar;
a trusted guide, an inspiration.
Inner motivation pushed me from my place
and sent me hurtling through the skies,
chancing an encounter with your whirling grace
and the shining smiling of your eyes.
Now not driven, only being drawn to you
by planetary force - not gravity,
but stronger still - the sight of someone being true,
the steady pull of honesty.
Plunging, reckless, through your atmosphere of care,
drinking in your warmth until I glow
and burst - a billion blooming wishes everywhere -
too briefly, brightly burning as I go.
I have been condemned to be a shooting star,
one who deals in days and not forevers.
Time too short to catch enough of who you are
to last throughout a thousand nevers.
Jan 7, 2011
Jan 7, 2011 at 6:07 AM UTC
I want to tell him that I
love everything from a distance
but can cross oceans in seconds
that the people before him sopped
through my fingers like wet sand,
were ever flat and disarranged, empty
men with waterless words and exigent
appetites for my body--(that this is where
i learned the only way to please a man was
to give him myself)
I'm still undoing the knots, unraveling the little girls
coiled in lies, and taking mallets to the plaster molds
I built up around myself, mannequins for different men
and if there is anything I am confused
about it is him, his I-could-nevers, his frightening
absolutes, the ways in which he vows he can never change
*you think you want me but at the back of your mind you want
something else*
I don't want you--not like that. Not as if
your worth was based on how quick you jump into the fray for my sake. How many times you make me smile or say your name--however
you are soaked in rosemary and oil, folded up out of my notebook
into a thousand paper cranes--no, not even like that.
How do I tell you that I see your soul? Your threadbare spirits peeking out and the willowy fibers unraveled in your wake, that you are more than your mothers many marriages, more than the women you did not
want to have-- and deserving of a lasting love that transcends your mistakes and leaves your mirrors remarkably clean, did you know you can be clean?
How do I tell you that the broken do not fix the broken, how I cannot share the blueprint for healing but the burden if he asks--are we in the same book? The same chapter? I once heard that two people must grow in a similar direction at the same pace--are we on the same boat? The same road? On the torrent seas, will you hold your own?
I realize I cannot come at you with such brazen artillery, that the paths I choose have no gates and are often unmarked, not even the grass gives way, nor the trees and twigs their secrets--and the journey is wholly faith, an expedition I have not fully taken but is presently on its way. When I tell you what falls first and where my priorities settle, I speak down the pike of the ways I hope to be and the woman that waits in whole.
So when he tells me I am confusing for the hundredth time and I sink somewhere off the Atlantic with the weight of my own thoughts, I am quiet. His words are ever resounding but do not fill me up--just the glimmering hope that we will somehow
meet
in the
Middle
Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 7:26 PM UTC
my nightly escape...
I'll lie down, shut my eyes
and my world is my own again,
and you're all over it again...
I'll dream of you again
and wish for eternal sleep
where lies my perpetual bliss
where lies my favorite kind of high
where lies my 'would rathers'
which are my 'will nevers'
as soon as I hear the alarm
Feb 7, 2010
Feb 7, 2010 at 6:12 AM UTC
Fall in love with the insane—
Because crazy nevers leaves the honeymoon phase,
sadness can always be romanticized,
and appreciation stems from contrast.
Do not fall in love with the insane—
Because you will never realize it, but you'll know it:
that nothing sober will ever match up to psychotic intoxication,
and you will always be living your life
knowing you can't be satiated on sanity.
You will settle, and you will be happy:
But you will always be looking for the madness in people.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 6:58 PM UTC