Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"resents" poems
Ezra James isn't the first and certainly won't be the last to go to sleep to the wonderful sound of family having a laugh Ezra James isn't alone and will never have it be said that he resents having to share a bath before going to bed Ezra James isn't afraid of darkness after lights out he knows for sure his brothers are there of that he's never in doubt Ezra James is safe and sound he's certain of where he belongs - loved by brothers, loved by God in the heart of family Sibuns
0
Nov 23, 2018
Nov 23, 2018 at 4:06 PM UTC
Ezra James
I've often wondered if sometimes, if at all There's a part of you-even if just a tiny bit That resents me for the things I've taken away Without your knowledge It's justifiable you know, I'll understand if you do I mean I resent me too at times I wouldn't blame you But you, with eyes wide closed, Heart open look beyond all of me And I realize, Things aren't always black and white There's a thin line in between Harboring all that's good within, Looking beyond the imperfections, And it's you. You're the warm blanket we all need, A perpetual calendar of inspiration for me And most. Let your aspirations guide to better things, Be drawn to success like a moth to a flame, Careful not to burn your wings, Or to let people step on your cape You're more than what you see in the mirror The love you have within you radiates To form an everlasting echo that transcends Beyond definition Finding reflections of each other in our hearts And that's where , not anywhere else We'll keep each other safe, warm and protected For someday, this is all we'll have-memories
0
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 8:18 PM UTC
To My Sister
1314 When a Lover is a Beggar Abject is his Knee— When a Lover is an Owner Different is he— What he begged is then the Beggar— Oh disparity— Bread of Heaven resents bestowal Like an obloquy—
0
3.2k
When a Lover is a Beggar
My eyes burning, sweet tears of relief My lungs filled with, hot humid watery vapor My sweat they splash, fiercely onto the hot scolding stones The rainfall, I am cool and clean But there's something inside, that disagrees Resents the humidity, with serendipity He smiles at me in the sauna mirror, We got a bomb strapped, we got the trigger At the London Sauna I stare at the shower stall bandaid Clinging at the edge of the dark drain I **** on it, It falls down into the sewer's abyss My body loose and free I am drained and depleted (D.E.B.)
0
Aug 25, 2017
Aug 25, 2017 at 11:26 AM UTC
The London Sauna
There is no I in denial. They kiss in bed. They roll around. There is no I in denial. He bought her flowers. She placed them in a vase. There is no I in denial. They hug outside of traditional thought. I do not know how we got here, but I know I don't want us to stay. There is no I in denial. They **** in bathrooms. They make love in gardens. There is no I in denial. She blew a kiss. He caught a tough break. There is no I in denial. He holds a box of his things, after being shown out. She says they'll manage. I do not know how we got here, but I know I don't want us to stay. There is no I in denial. They kiss in bed, but it's not the same. They roll around in bed, but it begins to feel like effort. There is no I in denial. He bought her less. She said it didn't matter. There is no I in denial. He feels like his father, imagining things she's doing. I do not know how we got here, but I know I don't want us to stay. There Is No I In Denial. They don't talk as much. They sit farther apart. There Is No I In Denial. She asks him what's wrong. He resents her care. There Is No I In Denial. He gets drunk and breaks the vase. The flowers lay, covered in wet glass, sleeping in a puddle. I do not know how we got here, but I know I don't want us to stay. THERE IS NO I IN DENIAL. They don't talk, they yell. They don't remember each other. THERE IS NO I IN DENIAL. He drinks more. She feels less. THERE IS NO I IN DENIAL. They were married underneath an oak tree, She said, "I do." He smiled and said, "I'm so lucky." The flowers lay on the floor, dying. I do not know how we got here, but I know I don't want us to stay.
0
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 6:43 PM UTC
There is No I in Denial
There is no I in denial. They kiss in bed. They roll around. There is no I in denial. He bought her flowers. She placed them in a vase. There is no I in denial. They hug outside of traditional thought. I do not know how we got here, but I know I don't want us to stay. There is no I in denial. They **** in bathrooms. They make love in gardens. There is no I in denial. She blew a kiss. He caught a tough break. There is no I in denial. He holds a box of his things, after being shown out. She says they'll manage. I do not know how we got here, but I know I don't want us to stay. There is no I in denial. They kiss in bed, but it's not the same. They roll around in bed, but it begins to feel like effort. There is no I in denial. He bought her less. She said it didn't matter. There is no I in denial. He feels like his father, imagining things she's doing. I do not know how we got here, but I know I don't want us to stay. There Is No I In Denial. They don't talk as much. They sit farther apart. There Is No I In Denial. She asks him what's wrong. He resents her care. There Is No I In Denial. He gets drunk and breaks the vase. The flowers lay, covered in wet glass, sleeping in a puddle. I do not know how we got here, but I know I don't want us to stay. THERE IS NO I IN DENIAL. They don't talk, they yell. They don't remember each other. THERE IS NO I IN DENIAL. He drinks more. She feels less. THERE IS NO I IN DENIAL. They were married underneath an oak tree, She said, "I do." He smiled and said, "I'm so lucky." The flowers lay on the floor, dying. I do not know how we got here, but I know I don't want us to stay.
Continue reading...
74
While an intrinsic ardor prompts to write, The muses promise to assist my pen; ’Twas not long since I left my native shore The land of errors, and Egyptain gloom: Father of mercy, ’twas thy gracious hand Brought me in safety from those dark abodes. Students, to you ’tis giv’n to scan the heights Above, to traverse the ethereal space, And mark the systems of revolving worlds. Still more, ye sons of science ye receive The blissful news by messengers from heav’n, How Jesus’ blood for your redemption flows. See him with hands out-stretcht upon the cross; Immense compassion in his ***** glows; He hears revilers, nor resents their scorn: What matchless mercy in the Son of God! When the whole human race by sin had fall’n, He deign’d to die that they might rise again, And share with him in the sublimest skies, Life without death, and glory without end. Improve your privileges while they stay, Ye pupils, and each hour redeem, that bears Or good or bad report of you to heav’n. Let sin, that baneful evil to the soul, By you be shun’d, nor once remit your guard; Suppress the deadly serpent in its egg. Ye blooming plants of human race divine, An Ethiop tells you ’tis your greatest foe; Its transient sweetness turns to endless pain, And in immense perdition sinks the soul.
0
2.1k
To The University Of Cambridge, In New-England
When you said we were done I initially was angry because I wanted to hate you so badly But I only loved you. A few days later, I realize that, though I do love you more than anything, A part of me also resents you. And maybe my anger was not, In fact, because I couldn't hate you, But because I knew a part of me does And all I want to do is love you. The last time you asked if I hated you for ending it; I couldn't, because I understood. But this time, you didn't ask You didn't care And I'm not sorry that I wasn't good enough, Because you're the one who couldn't Handle the distance. Let your cravings and desires Override a love To where you couldn't feel it anymore. I wish I could understand, But I can't. And I resent you for hurting me this way. At least before I knew you still loved me, Now I couldn't even tell you liked me. Enjoy your freedom and experience While I'm trapped as a prisoner To my own mind. The dreams of you continue and Waking up hurts more than I can explain. But I love you. And, unfortunately, that will never change.
0
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 4:23 PM UTC
I (Love/Hate/Miss/Resent) You
Cuz I have some issues... I won't admit .. But I no ill commit to be bad to you ..I'm just bad.. ( No )....To you ... I'm good in bed but I'm just bad for you.... Uh what are these issues What cause all this pain You can open up and tell me mama I bet we both can relate No we can't ) How you no Y'all are all the same ) Well I can't complain Cuz these women are made to be fix And we ****** are made to be broken But y'all use ***** as a weapon And get mad when we wanna just detonate Cuz I have some issue ) I get it tho I been there befo .. But I love it tho Let me be the one to help you change your views And how is that ) If I give a good channel you just have to be brave enough to watch the news See bad girls are no good ( that's a lie ) And the good girls are no fun ( believe that) Hood girls just wanna front (umm) College girl just wanna **** ( haha) It seem the ones who know how to roll always get a ring But it's just promises Just long resents No wedding dress No matter how much white you sniff But what about my issues ) See I noticed it I can take control of it Even when your warm as hell And cold as spit I seen the broken heart but I can fix the split She'll hurt your feelings She'll no why She'll play smart To these dumb guys Idk the game but if I'm playing man I won't be surprised She smoke **** She she get high Best *** in the world this girl knows how to build up *** a drive See your all the same ) No baby I went from bed ,floor, kitchen ( Hold up ) ( That Quiet *** , disgraceful ) ( Oh word up ) ( Word up) Hold up forget it cuz all of the bad girls are always unfaithful
0
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 12:53 AM UTC
Cuz I Have Some Issues (BadGirl)
Cuz I have some issues... I won't admit .. But I no ill commit to be bad to you ..I'm just bad.. ( No )....To you ... I'm good in bed but I'm just bad for you.... Uh what are these issues What cause all this pain You can open up and tell me mama I bet we both can relate No we can't ) How you no Y'all are all the same ) Well I can't complain Cuz these women are made to be fix And we ****** are made to be broken But y'all use ***** as a weapon And get mad when we wanna just detonate Cuz I have some issue ) I get it tho I been there befo .. But I love it tho Let me be the one to help you change your views And how is that ) If I give a good channel you just have to be brave enough to watch the news See bad girls are no good ( that's a lie ) And the good girls are no fun ( believe that) Hood girls just wanna front (umm) College girl just wanna **** ( haha) It seem the ones who know how to roll always get a ring But it's just promises Just long resents No wedding dress No matter how much white you sniff But what about my issues ) See I noticed it I can take control of it Even when your warm as hell And cold as spit I seen the broken heart but I can fix the split She'll hurt your feelings She'll no why She'll play smart To these dumb guys Idk the game but if I'm playing man I won't be surprised She smoke **** She she get high Best *** in the world this girl knows how to build up *** a drive See your all the same ) No baby I went from bed ,floor, kitchen ( Hold up ) ( That Quiet *** , disgraceful ) ( Oh word up ) ( Word up) Hold up forget it cuz all of the bad girls are always unfaithful
Continue reading...
43
Offense is a proud, pretty bird preening her feathers just so, resplendent in attire crested and crowned looking down over the world without warning, the wind dares to tousle her hair-- affection between connected hearts, between friends, between the flier and the flight the bird shrieks at her ruffled feathers, the caring gesture, and the good intent. she broods she resents and she preens when she is ready, the wind does not come. she shrieks at its absence as she did at its presence, but she can't put her pretty feathers to use
0
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 10:05 PM UTC
Offense
Flandres, the flag of agony in thee I raise The bravest scapes thy land survails In me seek the darkest and the mad man The sad crab cracks its nest Against a backdoor saloon chest My avenue stew mind philanthropy Resolutions crust signs in my sight And by my side Rosemary glinks and blides Preparing my bedroom earing for The day of the land lord sore And than again the boots are crooked The spirit is fulled and dream ain’t no avenue Scooped you will feel and your brain got to be in a grill While your smile resents some breakfast lamb When the door doesn´t call you hence Your feet ain’t gonna lick the garden  fence Standing there the man and his black cloak A shield spelling what spells seen to sell Glasses clink telling whatever you ain’t bring To the ceremony that makes you feel lonely Chain your pony slowly for it’s holy Now hear the voice in a big bang noise Shooting swords like darts of joke Seeking and begging thrilling candies Whispering the grace, listen Sam, the grey taste It’s your blamed race and it's you the same.
0
Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 4:42 PM UTC
The city of holly spirits or Redemption gloom makes the saddest rooms
Days on end I have seen you hurt, Waging battles alone, against the world. Poised, gentle, barely holding it in. Fiery, brave, but scared and tainted. I come closer, you fly further. My fingers reach out, you slip away, Forever running, Forever hiding. I realise you don't need me But it breaks my heart not to stay. Some days I dream of tearing down your walls, Maybe break open a window into your soul. "Let me in", I say, "Let me hold you even if the pain resents." "How can I let you love me", she says, "when I'm only learning how to love myself?"
0
Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 7:19 AM UTC
Learning to love yourself
Getting left behind Not being loved No one understanding No one caring are my fears I had a dream I was lost No one tried to find me No one cared No one listened, understood Feeling left out Feeling like no one understands Feeling like No one can hear me when I’m screaming to be heard Destructive behavior I have Wishing I could change Wishing I could make it better Wishing for another chance Wishing for someone who will come and save me from myself. my fears not being heard being left behind not being understood no one caring. how can I disappear? Make people understand. Disappear from this world Show people what it's like to worry, misunderstand, not care. my fears, people laugh people tease people misjudge people misunderstand me. Behind my back, they laugh, tease, hurt, so I can't see them. It hurts. Now, I hide this pain in my heart making sure no one sees my hurt. Pretending to be someone I'm not. Trying so hard to fit in, to cover the scars, trying so hard, to be liked by you. My feelings disappearing No regrets Hoping no one resents me. After my dream ended, I wondered... What am I leaving.. When I leave here? The pain I've caused. The hurt,the disappointments, the worries Hoping, now people understand, people miss, people hear me, and others Forgetting all: all the pain, and hurt I learned to hide inside, buried deep in my heart. No way out My fears...are these..
0
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 1:46 AM UTC
Understanding Is Something That Is Very Hard To Understand
You are the grains against roots You are the pictures to the poems You are the music to the seasons Utterly mistaken for one, two years Shifting your moves Reconstructing images from the page Searching new views Resting your chin knowing The crickets will never rest The oceans will never forever forget you The forest will be burnt A paradox will be solved For you, crashes require reboots Setting leap year back once more The flowers will forever Bring you a demesne You are a pastiche Your voice is mellifluous A formal fallacy resents The starting line logically Helping you recognize the beginning
0
Jul 26, 2011
Jul 26, 2011 at 12:07 PM UTC
You Are...
Kids count kisses in Liverpool, Romancing their way through school, Boys whispering to the liars by streetlight, Softly dancing with the girls tonight. Sixteen rooms fall into place, All the boys, they grab at Grace, Louise can't hold on to her hair; She touches a cigarette, Smokes a pair. Necklaces taking gently, I stop to taste the smiles, Frowning skeleton resents me, She should stop for a while. Sitting slowly, The velvet petticoat sings, Running underground, Wineglass without wings Cheap windows feel the high heels, Dancefloor crawling, we're made of steel. Necklaces taking gently, Stop to taste the smiles, Frowning skeleton resents me, She should caress me for a while. -Jamie F. Nugent
0
May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 2:50 PM UTC
By Streetlight
(Train Leaving) After 23 years, I finally stepped up to the mic... Exposed my hidden messages of a pad that holds my life... Speaking all about my problems, and how I tend to solve em... a past that shows a little boy who resents the reflection of his father. Some would call me crazy, others maybe weird..but I can't listen to your judgement since honesty is what makes things clear...I separate myself...seems alone time helps me most...a solo mind with his thoughts Helps him write his best quotes... An odd type of man who lives for the excitement of gods plan, Was once a young kid, who felt the cold life in his hands... Speaking wit permission Causes society not to listen.. But if I create a work of art.. Will society potentially be a witness? will they believe everything they hear on a deceiving television? (Idk) *I just Give love to the hated... Humble down the overrated... Bring back spirit into the potential... Send a prayer to the outdated...* Allow the thought of a good heart To bring happiness and true belief Give a helping hand to the fallen.. Don't treat others as if they are beneath.. A black pen can send a message and open up so many possibilities.. Is society truly crazy? Or do we need to learn how to embrace the little things? Unleash a humans true ability to become "non ignorant" and turn hostility into tranquility. I still stay prayed up, and believe in the good of humanity I see change in faces, a flower blooming in a *** full of insanity, And if I couldn't move, I ask...would you stop and carry me? Or would you let me die and leave me here alone? This here is my first train of thought...and my last ride home. - Dougie simps #lostlove #SecretMessage
0
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 3:54 PM UTC
"1st train of thought, Last ride home"
(Train Leaving) After 23 years, I finally stepped up to the mic... Exposed my hidden messages of a pad that holds my life... Speaking all about my problems, and how I tend to solve em... a past that shows a little boy who resents the reflection of his father. Some would call me crazy, others maybe weird..but I can't listen to your judgement since honesty is what makes things clear...I separate myself...seems alone time helps me most...a solo mind with his thoughts Helps him write his best quotes... An odd type of man who lives for the excitement of gods plan, Was once a young kid, who felt the cold life in his hands... Speaking wit permission Causes society not to listen.. But if I create a work of art.. Will society potentially be a witness? will they believe everything they hear on a deceiving television? (Idk) *I just Give love to the hated... Humble down the overrated... Bring back spirit into the potential... Send a prayer to the outdated...* Allow the thought of a good heart To bring happiness and true belief Give a helping hand to the fallen.. Don't treat others as if they are beneath.. A black pen can send a message and open up so many possibilities.. Is society truly crazy? Or do we need to learn how to embrace the little things? Unleash a humans true ability to become "non ignorant" and turn hostility into tranquility. I still stay prayed up, and believe in the good of humanity I see change in faces, a flower blooming in a *** full of insanity, And if I couldn't move, I ask...would you stop and carry me? Or would you let me die and leave me here alone? This here is my first train of thought...and my last ride home. - Dougie simps #lostlove #SecretMessage
Continue reading...
32
The Man in the Moon will be leavin’ soon Officially, he retired. But Polaris and some other stars Are saying he got fired The Man in the Moon would never leave Of his own volition. Management, cutting back on costs, Is phasing out his position. His quarterly reviews have not been going very well, They say he isn’t any good with change. When he gives his full attention, he seems to do ok, But lately he’s been acting kind of strange, His bosses claim he sleeps all day. And on cloudy nights, he stays away, (It’d be age discrimination if they said he’s getting old) So they say that he won’t listen and won’t do as he is told. They say because he has seniority, That he resents authority, Won’t show his new boss how the job is done, And in their final summary, out of ten, they gave him three, Said that he doesn’t hold a candle to the sun. But those of us who know his work Know he would never, ever shirk Responsibility, or jobs that must be done - At night when he works overtime, Countless souls look up to him, but At night they’ll never, ever, see the sun. If The Man in the Moon is told to leave Our lives will be amiss, So I took a poet’s initiative To make management a list: Reasons Not to Fire the Man in the Moon Who will watch young lovers kiss? Who will push and pull the tides? Who will occupy the space Where The Man in the Moon resides? Who will tell the farmer when it’s time to plant his field? Who will lead the eclipse when the sun needs lunar shield? Who will be the subject of songs and nursery rhymes? Who will notify the werewolf when it’s his changin’ time? Who will calm the sailors after stormy nights at sea? Who will make a silhouette of an owl in the tree? Who will light the children’s path each All Hallows’ Eve? Who would raise vampires from their coffins Were The Man in the Moon to leave? I ask these questions with a plea Knowing that, if it were up to me And I had the power to blunt the cutter’s knife, We’d leave the Earth and Heavens as they’ve been for all these years, And The Man in the Moon would have his job for life. PwL  5/24/15w
0
May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 10:33 PM UTC
Spare the Man in the Moon
The Man in the Moon will be leavin’ soon Officially, he retired. But Polaris and some other stars Are saying he got fired The Man in the Moon would never leave Of his own volition. Management, cutting back on costs, Is phasing out his position. His quarterly reviews have not been going very well, They say he isn’t any good with change. When he gives his full attention, he seems to do ok, But lately he’s been acting kind of strange, His bosses claim he sleeps all day. And on cloudy nights, he stays away, (It’d be age discrimination if they said he’s getting old) So they say that he won’t listen and won’t do as he is told. They say because he has seniority, That he resents authority, Won’t show his new boss how the job is done, And in their final summary, out of ten, they gave him three, Said that he doesn’t hold a candle to the sun. But those of us who know his work Know he would never, ever shirk Responsibility, or jobs that must be done - At night when he works overtime, Countless souls look up to him, but At night they’ll never, ever, see the sun. If The Man in the Moon is told to leave Our lives will be amiss, So I took a poet’s initiative To make management a list: Reasons Not to Fire the Man in the Moon Who will watch young lovers kiss? Who will push and pull the tides? Who will occupy the space Where The Man in the Moon resides? Who will tell the farmer when it’s time to plant his field? Who will lead the eclipse when the sun needs lunar shield? Who will be the subject of songs and nursery rhymes? Who will notify the werewolf when it’s his changin’ time? Who will calm the sailors after stormy nights at sea? Who will make a silhouette of an owl in the tree? Who will light the children’s path each All Hallows’ Eve? Who would raise vampires from their coffins Were The Man in the Moon to leave? I ask these questions with a plea Knowing that, if it were up to me And I had the power to blunt the cutter’s knife, We’d leave the Earth and Heavens as they’ve been for all these years, And The Man in the Moon would have his job for life. PwL  5/24/15w
Continue reading...
51
“Where were you?” I want to scream, Through clenched teeth, against a distant dream. You laugh, you live, you carry no chains, Unseen, you are free from these bruising pains. She whispered to me, only me, at her end, Left me with words I can’t defend. You weren’t there to feel her fading breath, To witness the slow, soft steps toward death. I carry the weight, the sorrow, the blame, While you dance through life, without the shame. Her voice lingers, soft as a wraith, Leaving me torn between love and hate. She asked for silence, a shroud unseen, To bear her loss alone, as if in a dream. I hold this burden close to my chest, While you, untouched, move on at your best. Do you feel her absence, hear her sigh? Does her memory haunt you or pass you by? A part of me resents the ease you feel, While I stumble alone through a world so unreal. I am her keeper, her secret grave, Bound to the love that made me brave. Yet, bitterness grows where peace should be, An ache that burns yet sets me free.
0
Mar 31, 2025
Mar 31, 2025 at 11:16 PM UTC
Silent Divide
*Spectral & Whites, She shoots liquid kryptonite, Forming civil twilights, Lighting up satellites, Effusive she moves in crowds, Vetting the loud, Entombing in her vortex clouds, Fiction stitched exclusive to her shroud, Translucent transcendence, Sinking in ascendance, Obscured abundance, Her celestial dependence, Mutating sacraments, Dissolving electrolytic laments, Decaying she resents, Her serene blood stains, Choking reckless intents, Torrential far cry, Of her desecrated lullabies, Edging serrated highs, Triggering sulphur lies, Profanity in her transmits, Photonic duality she emits, Fluttering in trance, Her psychopathic stance, Initiating empathetic dance, Seductive incandescence, Buffering her schizophrenic vehemence, Veiling the era of repentance, By unveiling spiritual severance, And pseudo sacrosanct irreverence, The future’s here, Nuclear souvenir, She past my prime, When the evidence realigned, Confiscating her downtime, She committed my crime, Make amends… We are designed to be outlived…. 03:22AM*
0
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 5:01 PM UTC
Spectral & Whites
1. When you break five beer glasses at work do not berate yourself imagine yourself as a young child she is with you for this instance in your life would you be as cruel to her as you are to yourself? You have as much right to let thins shatter at your feet as she does Do not take this as a mistake Take this as a subconscious act against the addiction that held you parents in its ugly hands for years 2. If you want to find your joy in speaking to strangers then allow it hang out with the boy in Hawaii at 3 am that you just met discover that his leg resting on yours feels like the warmth of the island even in the depth of the night realize that you do not have to miss the cold skin of the boy who was your first everything you are a girl who needs warmth, and you are a girl who can find this warmth in others 3. I’ve learned in the past month that the best way to figure out who should be in your life is to love yourself harder than you ever have before and watch for who resents it. 4. Do not apologize for your emotions You are human Do not allow someone to tell you that you are lesser because you are angry Because you are sad Because you just don’t know 5. Teach people the acceptable way to treat you by reciveing nothing less than what you need Wear your self-love for all of them to see Scream it from the rooftops You are a goddess You are not to be underestimated Sharpen your eyes so well that a look will keep them in line But do not forget to keep your softness as well Do not harden your heart Just because they fear your fire does not mean you should douse it Do you not realize how many other people it keeps warm?
0
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 3:26 PM UTC
FIVE THINGS I LEARNED WHILE REDISCOVERING SELF LOVE
1. When you break five beer glasses at work do not berate yourself imagine yourself as a young child she is with you for this instance in your life would you be as cruel to her as you are to yourself? You have as much right to let thins shatter at your feet as she does Do not take this as a mistake Take this as a subconscious act against the addiction that held you parents in its ugly hands for years 2. If you want to find your joy in speaking to strangers then allow it hang out with the boy in Hawaii at 3 am that you just met discover that his leg resting on yours feels like the warmth of the island even in the depth of the night realize that you do not have to miss the cold skin of the boy who was your first everything you are a girl who needs warmth, and you are a girl who can find this warmth in others 3. I’ve learned in the past month that the best way to figure out who should be in your life is to love yourself harder than you ever have before and watch for who resents it. 4. Do not apologize for your emotions You are human Do not allow someone to tell you that you are lesser because you are angry Because you are sad Because you just don’t know 5. Teach people the acceptable way to treat you by reciveing nothing less than what you need Wear your self-love for all of them to see Scream it from the rooftops You are a goddess You are not to be underestimated Sharpen your eyes so well that a look will keep them in line But do not forget to keep your softness as well Do not harden your heart Just because they fear your fire does not mean you should douse it Do you not realize how many other people it keeps warm?
Continue reading...
32
“She prides herself on her strength and steel, but she cracks like porcelain now and then. She knows how to piece herself back together, but covers her cracks and chips in layers of glue. She is composed of fire and compassion, but she struggles with doubts and insecurities. She burdens herself with the weight of the world, but carries forward bravely, determined to make her mark. She takes the reigns and her presence screams command, but she hates the burden that comes with being in charge. She knows leaderships rests deep within her bones, but she resents her authority and responsibility. She builds armor out of sharp wit and determination, but she doesn’t dare smooth out any of her jagged edges. She understands that she is the hero of her own story, but recognizes even heroes need saving sometimes. She burns soft and bright like a star in the night sky, but she explodes violently like a supernova from time to time. She scatters herself like stardust across galaxies in the aftermath, but she is phoenix incarnate, reborn timelessly from her ashes.”
0
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 6:59 PM UTC
She.
Sometimes I wonder If despite the love we share -The unrequited love only family can fathom- If there is any hate beneath Perhaps hate is too harsh of a word, Resent sounds better. Do you resent me? Even for the shortest of moments, Even the most minuscule amount, Do you resent me? Not me personally (Or so I hope) But for things that have happened  Because of me, Just because I am your sister? For the things I took from you, Never out of malice or spite, Usually unknowingly, And completely out of necessity, Because there was no other option? For the unforeseeable problems That unfortunately arose With their arduous effects Reaching not only me But you also? For the things you were forced to do, In my unintentional absences? For the consequences of things I had no control over? I know you love me, I do But is there a part of you that resents me too? I wouldn't blame you, I really, truly wouldn't- Because secretly I resent me too.
0
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 12:01 AM UTC
Secret Resentment
I picture my crossed legs, cresting a mound of ephervesent green, not tumult Sky with shadowed cloud, but cherry kissed blue rolling with heat. The morning song sweeps the vale, harkening the beast and fresh fauna arouse, and the morthered trees wheaping away glass tears of mid morning shower. Not a sound of combustion smoke, or thick air laced with chemical cloak. But licked breath of sun flower fume, and jolly ring of a blue **** call back tracking the day of English country side sun. Village in the deep pathed with rosened brick, cobbled with years to their name. Thatched and single glazed sleep the houses of those in pleasure to live, away from sound and smoke and ever reluctance to give. Yet bestowed from my world I am ****** back through to a bench in embankment side. My village blown by September breeze and blue *** lost for lacking of trees. The birds song unsung and arrogantly moved by the slamming tune of metalled wheels. Locals March by with mission and no excess, thoughts of exploration never sound as each space in the city has already been found. My poet talk resents the city, as country birth implanted my eye and captures my spirit with intrigued motivation. Yet opposites attract in such manner or Fashion, that crescent streets and busses red, fill my eyes with more movement than words ever said. And unfinished I want to be here, to inhale the fume and absorb the sound, and so that upon return to my fields of green, my dream of birds and thatched village lay, that not the strongest of mid September breeze, could ever blow away.
0
Oct 25, 2016
Oct 25, 2016 at 7:28 PM UTC
The leap
I picture my crossed legs, cresting a mound of ephervesent green, not tumult Sky with shadowed cloud, but cherry kissed blue rolling with heat. The morning song sweeps the vale, harkening the beast and fresh fauna arouse, and the morthered trees wheaping away glass tears of mid morning shower. Not a sound of combustion smoke, or thick air laced with chemical cloak. But licked breath of sun flower fume, and jolly ring of a blue **** call back tracking the day of English country side sun. Village in the deep pathed with rosened brick, cobbled with years to their name. Thatched and single glazed sleep the houses of those in pleasure to live, away from sound and smoke and ever reluctance to give. Yet bestowed from my world I am ****** back through to a bench in embankment side. My village blown by September breeze and blue *** lost for lacking of trees. The birds song unsung and arrogantly moved by the slamming tune of metalled wheels. Locals March by with mission and no excess, thoughts of exploration never sound as each space in the city has already been found. My poet talk resents the city, as country birth implanted my eye and captures my spirit with intrigued motivation. Yet opposites attract in such manner or Fashion, that crescent streets and busses red, fill my eyes with more movement than words ever said. And unfinished I want to be here, to inhale the fume and absorb the sound, and so that upon return to my fields of green, my dream of birds and thatched village lay, that not the strongest of mid September breeze, could ever blow away.
Continue reading...
12