"passcode" poems
n. hy•po•thal•a•mus \-ˈthal-ə-məs\
: the part of the brain that controls fight or flight responses
September 23rd
The first time our eyes met
Travelling across the room
Not knowing that those were the same eyes
That could **** me with a smile
December 28th
I found out that you wrote
And **** that was hot
Your words that got me hooked
Were the same ones that cut my strings
February 14th
We were nothing close to lovers
Not even bestfriends
But I somehow felt less lonely
Talking to you everyday
April 8th
The beginning of heat
And I think I barely noticed
Because the thought of you
Makes blood rush to my cheek
June 19th
The start of school
And the start of the drift
Or maybe it was just stress?
I hung on to our conversations
July 31st
You talked about this new girl
And how she was pretty
And funny
And everything I wasn’t
August 17th
We haven’t talked in 2 weeks
Not like you noticed much
All you cared about was her
I'm starting to miss you
Alot
September 27th
I was in Biology
I studied the hypothalamus
And how it controlled
The fight or flight response of our body
September 27th
I was studying the hypothalamus
And learned that the body has a natural instinct
To detect danger or warning
Thus activating the hypothalamus
September 27th
I was studying the hypothalamus
And **** who gave you the right to walk in my mind
I was studying the hypothalamus for God’s sake how does this even relate to you?
I saw you in everything
A notebook – Cos you write
Coffee – because you loved it
The Fault In Our Stars – because you hated it
Pictures of New York – because it was your dream
My playlist – because you made it
My jacket – because it smells like you
My little sister – because she looks for you
My mother – because she still makes your favorite dinner whenever you visit
The flowers on our porch – because you planted them
Hot Pockets – because you despised them
But **** never did I expect to see you in a hypothalamus
September 27th
People don’t come with warning signs attached to their necks
And even if our body has a natural instinct to detect danger
People like you, know just the right things to say or do to trick my body into thinking you're good for me
You know my passcode, how to get through my walls
So all this time I’ve been wondering
Where was my hypothalamus, if I even had one
Why didn’t it warn me
To flee your arms before I got entangled in your words,
Before I sunk in the quicksand of your charm
Why wasn’t I warned, to fight or flight, before I got hurt this bad?
Why wasn’t I warned of the danger that was you.
Jul 23, 2015
Jul 23, 2015 at 12:17 PM UTC
Some fears are paralyzing
1. We need to talk
2. A random text message from him
3. Passcode incorrect
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 10:38 AM UTC
Slide to unlock you command
I do so with a sleight of hand
Enter passcode you demand
I press four digits, and up pops your brand.
I check my apps, play some games,
Update, mail, and Facebook old names
Shuffle my music, delete and reply
All the while asking myself "why?"
I'm a consumer gone mad.
The world turns and I'm sad
People die every day, in such horrific ways,
Yet I slide and unlock, and do as commanded.
After all I'm a human re-branded.
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 9:25 AM UTC
It was March 5th when we first met. I never imagined you as someone who I will miss because I never thought you would go away. Today is February 13 and I'm missing you more than ever.
Can we have those long talks about our height difference back? Can we regain the jokes we told each other at 3:45 in the morning? But most importantly, can I have you back?
It never occured to me how much I'm missing you until the mark of the second year of your disappearance is approaching. I never told anyone but I'm still hoping your name pops up in my phone. I'm still aching to see you alive again. You're still the name that I put as my passcode.
I just want you to come back again.
Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 9:42 AM UTC
Trying to put the words where they belong
I have been writing all so long
A Poet writes what they feel
It could be one’s reality for real
A Poet can write hours after hours
But when a Poet reads what they wrote, it doesn’t sound like the inspiration being spoke
A Poet writes more
But the mind states, there’s more to explore
The night can turn Midnight
It’s those very hours the Poet should be a sleep
But it’s the Poet’s inner emotion soul he wants to keep
Sweat pouring down with a tomorrow that has already came
What have I written?
Is it something forbidden?
I am surrounded by sentences feeling like a gate
But being a Poet, can I relate?
Shadows of me
Darkness no one can see
A Poet doesn’t need a name
It’s a write with an idea that came
Some say, a Poet is nothing more than a game
A Poet writes what’s in their head
Yet sometimes people feel misled
Only a Poet knows when they are a Poet
It’s the confidence to show it
It doesn’t matter if people don’t understand
A Poet will always be in demand
The Poet has the passcode, and it is called “Unload”.
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 4:13 PM UTC
I found a way to your heart
I walked in
Shut the door from behind
Changed the passcode
I forgot the code myself
So, I can't get out
You can't get any other person in
We will remain like this forever
'cause it's safe in here
It's well lit in here
There is peace in here
I'm happy in here
The weather is perfect in here
I just love it in here!
Nov 13, 2018
Nov 13, 2018 at 4:00 PM UTC
would you die
to feel the warmth
of my persuasive embrace.
what would you do
for just a second of my time?
you dare not question my desire.
immense expression,
you’re in dire need of something that can make you whole again.
i hold the changer of worlds in a pocket so small.
a heavy guard at the gates,
there is no passcode.
how do you enter?
no one has entered since the past-world.
& all who entered
& left,
are still lost
with regrets.
you cannot leave this place of comfort,
you’ll never find it
not again.
there’s only one way &
the secret lies within.
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 9:41 AM UTC
Befriend with me and help me find which is gone
Had A to Z, still there's something wrong
Swiftly search, for it's all alone
J V X Q, for the sake of completing the poem
Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 11:06 PM UTC
Long and dark corridors
A medical wing
Flickering fluorescent lights
And a man with a ring
Dressed all in black
Familiar scars
Passing windowed rooms
Reflecting faint fluorescent stars
Broken glass under boots
Mirroring the light
Whilst this man keeps moving forward
A wraith of the night
Steel-framed door
And a birthday passcode
2-1-0-9 and he's in
No light and all shadow
Just a window for a wall
And a Butchering freak
Bladed or blunted weapons
Bloodlust and fresh meat
Tied up are the innocent
Power to the psychopath
If there's one thing to be known
That son of a ***** makes pain last
A torturous death causing
A tortured souls' song
In the throes of insanity
The Butcher sings along
And this doppelgänger of me
He quietly stands
Calmly watching friends die
As I clench my own hands
He may look like me
But that's where it ends
I'd give the world to save them all
But clearly Nightmares don't care
May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 7:48 AM UTC
curiosity lingers in my veins
as my fingers type in the
four digit passcode that
holds all your secrets.
the thought never crossed my mind
that maybe i should leave it alone,
it is your property after all.
your property that would answer
all of the questions
that could never leave my lips.
my heart leaped out of my chest
where it shattered on the kitchen tiles.
i yearn for your acceptance,
but i believe that you can never
give me the one thing i ask for.
because if you are in conversations
pleading that your beloved daughter’s
sexuality is only just a phase
when i asked you to keep
it a secret in the first place,
you throw away all of my cries
for your love.
my limbs go numb as the words
are stuck on repeat inside
of my empty skull.
and when i look at you
from across the dinner table,
i can’t help but think that
when we meet eyes,
your mind is full of the fact that
you will never love me
because i am an abomination to your beliefs,
even though we believe in the same thing.
“i should’ve seen it in the way she dressed.”
sorry mom, i’ve always been a ‘tomboy,’ as you’d say.
and no matter how much you try
to push me into being a person i’m not,
i’ll always have this love for you
in the heart that you broke.
or did i break it?
after all,
i didn’t have to type in those numbers.
2111.
Jan 28, 2020
Jan 28, 2020 at 6:39 AM UTC
It’s all our typos fault,
incomplete stanzas are weeping,
blackness into an ocean
full of sparkles,
dots that stamp on
chaotic poems.
I forget the passcode
of our favorite verses
as I'm still there wandering
for some complex curses
to decay the rhythmic lock
of our typewriter.
Hello World! is a code
for hacking into poetic souls,
Out there.
Aug 17, 2023
Aug 17, 2023 at 8:13 AM UTC
because i know you
because i have felt you
in the shower
in the back of a cherry red
Jeep Laredo
because the last time we spoke
you confessed you ate
Peppermint York Patties
because they remind you of me
because i should have never
been to scared
to say "i'm scared"
because your laugh makes me
laugh
because i see Christmas lights
in your eyes
because i am beautiful to you
because i am always
always going to remember
*** in a motel room
*** on your cheetah comforter
*** on the leather couch
because i will never forget how i felt
like i had died
when i let you go
because your drug habits are
mine
because my passcode is still
bun
because i love you
too much
for myself to carry alone
because i need you to carry it
with me
because i love you
too
much
for myself.
Oct 6, 2016
Oct 6, 2016 at 10:05 PM UTC
sitting here in the quiet
thinking about you,
and what we could be,
in some alternative universe where you care as much as i do.
my phone bleeps and it's your name on the screen,
i get excited and fumble with the passcode.
with hopeful eyes i read your messages but begin to frown.
you've worded every hope and dream in our alternative universe
the only difference is it's a reality for you and him.
i smile through the sting of my tears,
i trick myself every time
into thinking some day you'll talk about me like that.
Sep 3, 2017
Sep 3, 2017 at 4:35 PM UTC
Hope the feeling of worthlessness flees my worried frame
Can you make my brain stable?
When you know the security code
Punch into my mental keypad
No other combination of words will silence the alarms of self-loathing blaring within
Ricocheting off the walls of my skull
Echoing each and every flaw exposed in myself
All it takes
One little thing to trip the sensor
And it hurts my whole defense system
You are the one able to disarm my security
And the reason is because you installed it
I had no method of protecting myself before you put me in your perspective
Now when something breaks through defense mechanism
Instead of letting confidence get stolen
Triggered noise helps me block out the negativity and focus on things I do like about myself
Then to revert my day back to normal completely all you have to do is enter the magic passcode with a sweet whisper in my ear
"You're beautiful"
Apr 24, 2020
Apr 24, 2020 at 6:37 PM UTC
It will take a chisel
to chip away at the detailed designs,
and a hammer
to crack through the carefully laid bricks,
and a wrecking ball
to bust open the stone-cold fence
of doubt and insecurity
I got wall-to-wall around my soul.
After that, you'll need a passcode
and a fingerprint.
You ain't getting in, *****
Mar 5, 2019
Mar 5, 2019 at 9:29 PM UTC
1/
That thumb, much uglier than other thumbs, is purple and dull. It reminds me of your mother's right arm. Young and bruised. Your father really liked her skin that way.
At night, they had *** like there would be no other day. Your father rough like a rock and your mother weak like an ant. It was more like marital **** One thing they discussed in a healthy way; they hid future in a grey safety box to forget the passcode.
When they were trying to **** each other you only could grow and grow.
You are a tree living in a big city. You have no friend to talk to and your brother begins to think that you were born silent. With so much happening inside my root? i heard you breathed. I hear you breathe. I hear you breathe. Please stop.
Or don't. If you stop, i die. If i die, you stop. Or we could become a bird and live near a steel factory. There are so much different ways to die. Why would we choose one?
You wanted to choose three. It was raining hard and you wanted to choose three.
You told me before. You had older brother like skyscraper. Another like asphalt. They did not live at a same place, but soon, they would eat the great wall and become a white china vase. Jesus would break them and mary would not find out. Joseph would have had killed her before.
2/
Hey, i think i know adam. I think he was fishing and drinking from the toilet bowl while the teacher was explaining how babies are delivered. You could not help but imagine your skin down there being cut. Like a film. First take.
You had no action. You were a bark, poor and dead. No one loved you until you pretend you are god.
Actually you are. God.
Actually they do not love you, god. Actually they are afraid of you, god. They think you care about them, god.
3/
Oh god. You don't, do you?
You don't, do you?
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 2:08 PM UTC
Hey mister you are a mistery
Your thoughts were tangled mess of a knot
Your mind has a passcode
Impossible to decode
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 11:44 PM UTC
as I write this I lay in bed on a Friday night. i just saw my friends were at a party.
well friends from a distance.
and then I saw my friend hanging out with my other friend behind my back.
but this is not what saddens me.
what makes me sad is the fact that that could have been me.
but I search deep in myself trying to find a passcode or a key.
to unlock the "normal" part of me.
normal as in when will I talk to only two people and then go home and talk to no one.
hold on I almost let a tear out of my eye.
why is it that me, makayla, sits in her bed this Friday night alone, saddened, broken.
when did I become broken. have I always been?
i beg the question, who fault was this. because if it mine I can accept that, but I must place blame.
if i don't I will just wallow, keep my tears behind the cages of my eyelids, or die.
Apr 6, 2019
Apr 6, 2019 at 1:18 AM UTC