"oneway" poems - Hello Poetry

Onetime I let a boy inside my ribcage I warned him upon entry that the path to the space between my lungs was a oneway ticket that I had never smoked a cigarette, but the walls inside me were tar-filled and sick that sometimes my heart failed to beat with my brain and instead fell into perfect uneven synchrony with the faucet where I threw-up cherry red the other night. Onetime I let a boy with a knife inside my ribcage and I had seen the knife and I didn't care he climbed inside me so gently like he belonged there and was just taking his place like a missing ***** he made me his home reassembled my insides vital pieces of me now resting on his body, depending on his body one hand on my heart the other on my throat. Onetime I let a boy with a knife and a bottle of bourbon live inside my ribcage he cleaned the tar off the walls but didn't cure the sickness I think he liked the smell of it. One night he carved his name everywhere spine clavicle esophagus and I pretended to sleep cut nick slash he tried to claim me he tried to clean me but lost souls can't be claimed and I'll never be clean enough my heart follows faucets not boys and that scared the boy so one night he poured the bourbon down the throat he held and I didn't stop him and I almost drowned gulp, gulp, gulp slash, slash, slash cursive illegible sorry's over every spot he had once cut his name into and he kissed the wounds and I woke up heavy. Organs are worthless without their host but Onetime I watched a boy tear his way out of my ribcage. Knife and empty bottle in his place, nothing's been working right in there since. I haven't let anyone in there since.

0

Mar 24, 2015

Mar 24, 2015 at 3:57 AM UTC

adriana-moraes

***** Transplant

Onetime I let a boy inside my ribcage I warned him upon entry that the path to the space between my lungs was a oneway ticket that I had never smoked a cigarette, but the walls inside me were tar-filled and sick that sometimes my heart failed to beat with my brain and instead fell into perfect uneven synchrony with the faucet where I threw-up cherry red the other night. Onetime I let a boy with a knife inside my ribcage and I had seen the knife and I didn't care he climbed inside me so gently like he belonged there and was just taking his place like a missing ***** he made me his home reassembled my insides vital pieces of me now resting on his body, depending on his body one hand on my heart the other on my throat. Onetime I let a boy with a knife and a bottle of bourbon live inside my ribcage he cleaned the tar off the walls but didn't cure the sickness I think he liked the smell of it. One night he carved his name everywhere spine clavicle esophagus and I pretended to sleep cut nick slash he tried to claim me he tried to clean me but lost souls can't be claimed and I'll never be clean enough my heart follows faucets not boys and that scared the boy so one night he poured the bourbon down the throat he held and I didn't stop him and I almost drowned gulp, gulp, gulp slash, slash, slash cursive illegible sorry's over every spot he had once cut his name into and he kissed the wounds and I woke up heavy. Organs are worthless without their host but Onetime I watched a boy tear his way out of my ribcage. Knife and empty bottle in his place, nothing's been working right in there since. I haven't let anyone in there since.

55

Childhood training sets our mental ONEWAY in Numerous OF ways to live. As we grow of age We see different things that we may have not been TAUGHT at home. THATS WHEN WE JUDGE! Unintentionally or Intentionally. Either way we do! I see MANY people as broken glass. If you handle them WRONG THEY WILL CUTT YOU!. No matter where the glass is broken it is still harmful& FRAGILE! Handle people with CARE. Now thats RIGHTEOUS!!!. People hurt. Rather rich or poor PEOPLE HURT. So NO matter if you SEE them as righteous or WICKED. Show them LOVE. Because LOVE COVERS A MULTITUDE OF SINSSSSSS! SO WHAT IS WICKED & WHAT IS RIGHTEOUS? YOU CAN BE EITHER OF THE TWO...BUT IF YOU HAVE NO LOVE! YOU ARE WASTINGGGG!

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Mar 21, 2018

Mar 21, 2018 at 8:01 AM UTC

jackie-g

Righteous or wicked

Childhood training sets our mental ONEWAY in Numerous OF ways to live. As we grow of age We see different things that we may have not been TAUGHT at home. THATS WHEN WE JUDGE! Unintentionally or Intentionally. Either way we do! I see MANY people as broken glass. If you handle them WRONG THEY WILL CUTT YOU!. No matter where the glass is broken it is still harmful& FRAGILE! Handle people with CARE. Now thats RIGHTEOUS!!!. People hurt. Rather rich or poor PEOPLE HURT. So NO matter if you SEE them as righteous or WICKED. Show them LOVE. Because LOVE COVERS A MULTITUDE OF SINSSSSSS! SO WHAT IS WICKED & WHAT IS RIGHTEOUS? YOU CAN BE EITHER OF THE TWO...BUT IF YOU HAVE NO LOVE! YOU ARE WASTINGGGG!

12

Creeps the stench into the room, Through an open door, our doom, Oily sticky sour smell, Ain't Heaven must be hell, Large grow-op cannot be far, Perhaps a skunk versus a car? Peace and quiet taken for a oneway ride, As there is now a stink, high on Eventide, It has come in.

0

Mar 25, 2015

Mar 25, 2015 at 1:52 AM UTC

darrell-wade-elverum

The Scent of Eventide

Creeps the stench into the room, Through an open door, our doom, Oily sticky sour smell, Ain't Heaven must be hell, Large grow-op cannot be far, Perhaps a skunk versus a car? Peace and quiet taken for a oneway ride, As there is now a stink, high on Eventide, It has come in.

9

Language as you like. Be it in the proverbial sentence as I do demonstrate or in the slow callusing of the slow scrape of the slow, trudging hand over paper--line by line by lonely lonely line-- bye-- bye-- bye-- Dignants’ confabulation with the legal writ may render profit but of what avail when they cannot revel. Rebel: These days, we do not trrrrrill our words or fascinate on the decomposition of lane-goo-age. Oneway-coyish-maturation. Be Flame Be Boy Be Ant I am die gene err rat

0

Aug 29, 2014

Aug 29, 2014 at 12:16 AM UTC

ryan-spencer

Language as you like

Language as you like. Be it in the proverbial sentence as I do demonstrate or in the slow callusing of the slow scrape of the slow, trudging hand over paper--line by line by lonely lonely line-- bye-- bye-- bye-- Dignants’ confabulation with the legal writ may render profit but of what avail when they cannot revel. Rebel: These days, we do not trrrrrill our words or fascinate on the decomposition of lane-goo-age. Oneway-coyish-maturation. Be Flame Be Boy Be Ant I am die gene err rat

24

I see these faces Everyday Oneway Or another And I'm trapped Forced to see their Faces Once more But longer It seems Each day. The clock ticks And the time Passes surely But slowly Getting no rest Just Trapped In class For hours.

0

Jul 11, 2013

Jul 11, 2013 at 6:22 PM UTC

kaitlyn-ann-wells

Trapped.

I see these faces Everyday Oneway Or another And I'm trapped Forced to see their Faces Once more But longer It seems Each day. The clock ticks And the time Passes surely But slowly Getting no rest Just Trapped In class For hours.

20

Hello to everyone, I suffer from an paralyzing case of shyness, Hello from inside of my head; I want out, but is there an escape from within? Let's greet each other like the dusk and dawn; before Time splintered us into separate halves; before Space arrived and took everything away Hello, I see you noticed the tears streaming down my face; It doesn't give you the right to ask me what's wrong or if I feel any pain But would you just stay anyway? At least until the voices become silent whispers at the end of this deep dark cave Hello, self it's been a while since we last talked; and if I remember correctly, it was about how much a oneway ticket to hell would cost.

0

Jul 11, 2016

Jul 11, 2016 at 1:27 AM UTC

afinitecreature

M.D.

Hello to everyone, I suffer from an paralyzing case of shyness, Hello from inside of my head; I want out, but is there an escape from within? Let's greet each other like the dusk and dawn; before Time splintered us into separate halves; before Space arrived and took everything away Hello, I see you noticed the tears streaming down my face; It doesn't give you the right to ask me what's wrong or if I feel any pain But would you just stay anyway? At least until the voices become silent whispers at the end of this deep dark cave Hello, self it's been a while since we last talked; and if I remember correctly, it was about how much a oneway ticket to hell would cost.

37