"shakingly" poems - Hello Poetry

What made you think that, Just because you have strong hands, Which look like they were sculptured by God himself, You can touch the most sacred parts of my body, Then leave me, And leave my skin burning and yearning for more? What made you think that, You can look into my eyes, And shakingly hold my face in your bandaged palms, And whisper lies to me on your hospital bed, Telling me that everything will be okay, That you would fight for me, Then months later give up? What made you think that, I was joking when I said, I would get married to you, And have our favorite songs play at our wedding, Once we get our lives figured out? What made you think that, I would ever let you die, Unacknowledged, As a victim of drunk driving, With that murderer still unarrested? What made you think that, I will ever be fine, Seeing everyone else going on with their lives, Hardly unimpacted, When my life after you feels like, A two-dimensional black and white documentary? What made you think that, I have celebrated enough birthdays with you?

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May 10, 2014

May 10, 2014 at 3:04 AM UTC

shiftingclouds

You Did Not Deserve This

What made you think that, Just because you have strong hands, Which look like they were sculptured by God himself, You can touch the most sacred parts of my body, Then leave me, And leave my skin burning and yearning for more? What made you think that, You can look into my eyes, And shakingly hold my face in your bandaged palms, And whisper lies to me on your hospital bed, Telling me that everything will be okay, That you would fight for me, Then months later give up? What made you think that, I was joking when I said, I would get married to you, And have our favorite songs play at our wedding, Once we get our lives figured out? What made you think that, I would ever let you die, Unacknowledged, As a victim of drunk driving, With that murderer still unarrested? What made you think that, I will ever be fine, Seeing everyone else going on with their lives, Hardly unimpacted, When my life after you feels like, A two-dimensional black and white documentary? What made you think that, I have celebrated enough birthdays with you?

31

And if I saw you Standing in the pouring rain in the dead of night, Shakingly anxious for a midnight train, That speeding, steel pill that will Relieve you of all your pain, Would you remember my name? Or would you make like the rain, And fall away again? And when you reach your final destination, When that platform creaks under Your thirsty boots at that nameless station, As the fog moves to embrace you and You feel the great feeling, a mighty vibration Of a heavy railroad monster Abandoning you at some remote location, Will my eyes creep into your imagination? Or is the past on permanent vacation? And when you’re finally alone, Silently, painfully alone, You will crack open that dusty luggage, You will begin to aimlessly rummage, But will you see my picture Tacked inside your suitcase? And furthermore, Will you recognize me? Will you recognize my face? The color that my hair really was that day? Or was that such a different place, A completely different time and space, That my smile, once occupying your heart, Might as well have been born into some Nonexistent place? Will you ever remember those days? Or are they gone without a trace?

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Oct 18, 2012

Oct 18, 2012 at 4:31 PM UTC

jordan-joanne-manser

And Furthermore

And if I saw you Standing in the pouring rain in the dead of night, Shakingly anxious for a midnight train, That speeding, steel pill that will Relieve you of all your pain, Would you remember my name? Or would you make like the rain, And fall away again? And when you reach your final destination, When that platform creaks under Your thirsty boots at that nameless station, As the fog moves to embrace you and You feel the great feeling, a mighty vibration Of a heavy railroad monster Abandoning you at some remote location, Will my eyes creep into your imagination? Or is the past on permanent vacation? And when you’re finally alone, Silently, painfully alone, You will crack open that dusty luggage, You will begin to aimlessly rummage, But will you see my picture Tacked inside your suitcase? And furthermore, Will you recognize me? Will you recognize my face? The color that my hair really was that day? Or was that such a different place, A completely different time and space, That my smile, once occupying your heart, Might as well have been born into some Nonexistent place? Will you ever remember those days? Or are they gone without a trace?

34

i feed her my words like you'd feed someone sick the pills as their ailment i feed her my love like you'd feed a baby bird its life frail and in lament the mother's dead the baby's chirping the birds all say that this is working i feed her my ideas like you'd feed a toddler with spoon in hand; shakingly i feed her my death like you'd feed the poor standing on corners, begging; incessantly this is working i believe it now i see it working but can't see how i feed her life, as you'd feed me. i feed her knowledge, and set her free.

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May 2, 2013

May 2, 2013 at 1:25 AM UTC

sal-gelles

i swear i don't need this drink

i feed her my words like you'd feed someone sick the pills as their ailment i feed her my love like you'd feed a baby bird its life frail and in lament the mother's dead the baby's chirping the birds all say that this is working i feed her my ideas like you'd feed a toddler with spoon in hand; shakingly i feed her my death like you'd feed the poor standing on corners, begging; incessantly this is working i believe it now i see it working but can't see how i feed her life, as you'd feed me. i feed her knowledge, and set her free.

24

A skipping child approached by an older woman, This child was aware the woman had approached, and ignored her. “Now come here, honey” The lady said shakingly. The girl approached, kind of worried. “I’m going to give you all of my knowledge” The woman started, “Of what I’ve learned in this world” The girl sat down, legs crossed, eyes wide and alert. The woman began “Sweetheart, cherish everything you have now, And don’t forget to live” The girl thought about what the woman had said, as she walked home that day. “Live?” She thought, “But I already am!” As the girl grew older, had her own experiences, And children, she still kept thinking about what that woman said. Now she’s the same age as the woman, who she spoke to at such a young age. She began to wonder “Have I lived?” She thought about a deeper meaning To in which living is. “I have everything I’ve ever wanted” she stated, “And nothing that I don’t”. The next morning, the kids who lived in the home across the street, were out playing tag. She approached them, and kindly stated “Now I’m going to teach you everything I know” and she then said, “Cherish everything you have now, and don’t forget to live” just like the woman who she met many years ago.

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Jul 14, 2018

Jul 14, 2018 at 11:54 PM UTC

regz

Live

A skipping child approached by an older woman, This child was aware the woman had approached, and ignored her. “Now come here, honey” The lady said shakingly. The girl approached, kind of worried. “I’m going to give you all of my knowledge” The woman started, “Of what I’ve learned in this world” The girl sat down, legs crossed, eyes wide and alert. The woman began “Sweetheart, cherish everything you have now, And don’t forget to live” The girl thought about what the woman had said, as she walked home that day. “Live?” She thought, “But I already am!” As the girl grew older, had her own experiences, And children, she still kept thinking about what that woman said. Now she’s the same age as the woman, who she spoke to at such a young age. She began to wonder “Have I lived?” She thought about a deeper meaning To in which living is. “I have everything I’ve ever wanted” she stated, “And nothing that I don’t”. The next morning, the kids who lived in the home across the street, were out playing tag. She approached them, and kindly stated “Now I’m going to teach you everything I know” and she then said, “Cherish everything you have now, and don’t forget to live” just like the woman who she met many years ago.

32

I feel like there are crumbling cinder blocks where my beating heart should be, and Im trying to explain to you how it feels but it's so chaotic and now it doesn't feel like cinder blocks it feels like someone used my torso as punching bag from the inside out cause I can't breath. it's so hard to just breathe sometimes. You wake up and complain about school cause your bed is warm and you're too tired, my bed is warm too and I'm tired too but I never sleep. My mind likes to run marathons when I think about you and how many times you probably kissed her that day. And I like school, I get out of this house that is referred to as "home". If this is your love, I don't want it. It feels like my world will stop spinning if that person isn't involved in it. your voice silenced the anxiety and the pain and the anger and the insecurities and the voices. Those fuckinggggg voices. And your eyes were chocolate brown but u were only sweet when you wanted something. It feels like fighting the urge to punch every mirror before you can see your reflection, and every wall cause he didn't reply to your text yet. Bruises would be so special and beautiful if they were inspired by you. It's so conflicting because my anxiety makes me feel like everyone is paying attention to me but depression taps me on the shoulder and reminds me that those girls at the end of the hall are probably not laughing about me cause I'm nothing to no one. But this anxietyyyy, any interaction feels like my world is shaking and I forget how to breath and my hands won't stop dripping. It feels like somebody is playing darts with my heart and twisting shards of glass even deeper. It's frustrating to try and convey how i feel cause to you it must seem crazy that the darkness can be ground shakingly loud and my body can feel like a million heavy pieces about to shatter if I move. I can't explain and you won't understand any way because even I don't have an explanation as to why my brain feels like an ocean during a ******* storm. It's eating me alive cause everything is splashing around in my mind and i can't make it stop or even slow down and on the outside I'm trying so hard to keep it together and play it cool when on the inside there's lightning and thunder crashing and probably some sunshine but I'm too busy worrying about if that branch is going to crack and fall on me or if your paying attention to me or texting her back and I look you in the eye and I can't help but wonder if you can see what I'm feeling.

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Jun 25, 2015

Jun 25, 2015 at 12:36 AM UTC

Jessicaapril

Collection of personal disasters

I feel like there are crumbling cinder blocks where my beating heart should be, and Im trying to explain to you how it feels but it's so chaotic and now it doesn't feel like cinder blocks it feels like someone used my torso as punching bag from the inside out cause I can't breath. it's so hard to just breathe sometimes. You wake up and complain about school cause your bed is warm and you're too tired, my bed is warm too and I'm tired too but I never sleep. My mind likes to run marathons when I think about you and how many times you probably kissed her that day. And I like school, I get out of this house that is referred to as "home". If this is your love, I don't want it. It feels like my world will stop spinning if that person isn't involved in it. your voice silenced the anxiety and the pain and the anger and the insecurities and the voices. Those fuckinggggg voices. And your eyes were chocolate brown but u were only sweet when you wanted something. It feels like fighting the urge to punch every mirror before you can see your reflection, and every wall cause he didn't reply to your text yet. Bruises would be so special and beautiful if they were inspired by you. It's so conflicting because my anxiety makes me feel like everyone is paying attention to me but depression taps me on the shoulder and reminds me that those girls at the end of the hall are probably not laughing about me cause I'm nothing to no one. But this anxietyyyy, any interaction feels like my world is shaking and I forget how to breath and my hands won't stop dripping. It feels like somebody is playing darts with my heart and twisting shards of glass even deeper. It's frustrating to try and convey how i feel cause to you it must seem crazy that the darkness can be ground shakingly loud and my body can feel like a million heavy pieces about to shatter if I move. I can't explain and you won't understand any way because even I don't have an explanation as to why my brain feels like an ocean during a ******* storm. It's eating me alive cause everything is splashing around in my mind and i can't make it stop or even slow down and on the outside I'm trying so hard to keep it together and play it cool when on the inside there's lightning and thunder crashing and probably some sunshine but I'm too busy worrying about if that branch is going to crack and fall on me or if your paying attention to me or texting her back and I look you in the eye and I can't help but wonder if you can see what I'm feeling.

8

I dismiss the jury, they’ve been absolutely useless And move to pass my own judgement In the case of toxic friend group vs my idiot past self I find the defendant guilty on all counts: Willful Unawareness and Lack of Boundaries in the 1st degree Excruciating Neediness and Nonexistent Self Worth in the 2nd They have to drag her from the courtroom Screaming, spitting, legs kicking Perhaps she really wasn’t fit to stand trial But my hardening, calcified heart holds no pity I make sure I’m there when they lock the cell door I look her in those wildly disturbed eyes as I swallow the key "Someone will find out about us," she whispers shakingly Wrapping both hands firmly around the cold iron bars I lean in, let her feel the loathing radiating from my skin, "Over my dead body"

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Nov 6, 2021

Nov 6, 2021 at 4:50 PM UTC

LBPxoxo

Guilty

I dismiss the jury, they’ve been absolutely useless And move to pass my own judgement In the case of toxic friend group vs my idiot past self I find the defendant guilty on all counts: Willful Unawareness and Lack of Boundaries in the 1st degree Excruciating Neediness and Nonexistent Self Worth in the 2nd They have to drag her from the courtroom Screaming, spitting, legs kicking Perhaps she really wasn’t fit to stand trial But my hardening, calcified heart holds no pity I make sure I’m there when they lock the cell door I look her in those wildly disturbed eyes as I swallow the key "Someone will find out about us," she whispers shakingly Wrapping both hands firmly around the cold iron bars I lean in, let her feel the loathing radiating from my skin, "Over my dead body"

16

Standing on the shore of this big wide sea Looking at the horizon as far as the eyes can see All my life in front of me Little ripple waves Big foaming thunder storm I stand there facing all Shakingly cold watching lightning touch down under Standing there await other days of wonder while the storm has gone and the sun goes under. Shell ✨🐚

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Mar 7, 2021

Mar 7, 2021 at 7:01 PM UTC

Shell

Life

Standing on the shore of this big wide sea Looking at the horizon as far as the eyes can see All my life in front of me Little ripple waves Big foaming thunder storm I stand there facing all Shakingly cold watching lightning touch down under Standing there await other days of wonder while the storm has gone and the sun goes under. Shell ✨🐚

15

Again I find myself sitting in this lonely room, listening to the empty echo of my own thoughts. Day after day the same routine: Get up. Conceal yourself. Go to bed. Repeat. This machine is fully functional, yet lacks a definite purpose for existing. It only takes up space. This loneliness I can bear no longer. I run to get the nearest blade. It is rusty and old. As broken as my own dreams. I hold it shakingly between my fingers. I draw a crooked line upon my wrist. Before I know it, ink is gushing out of the wound. It keeps on pouring until it leaves me dry. It floods pages upon pages with words, with phrases, with verses. These same pages remind me of wounds long healed. Of the struggles I've been through to end up where I am now. The pages tell a unique story. My story.

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Mar 18, 2015

Mar 18, 2015 at 6:15 PM UTC

krusty-aranda

My Story

Again I find myself sitting in this lonely room, listening to the empty echo of my own thoughts. Day after day the same routine: Get up. Conceal yourself. Go to bed. Repeat. This machine is fully functional, yet lacks a definite purpose for existing. It only takes up space. This loneliness I can bear no longer. I run to get the nearest blade. It is rusty and old. As broken as my own dreams. I hold it shakingly between my fingers. I draw a crooked line upon my wrist. Before I know it, ink is gushing out of the wound. It keeps on pouring until it leaves me dry. It floods pages upon pages with words, with phrases, with verses. These same pages remind me of wounds long healed. Of the struggles I've been through to end up where I am now. The pages tell a unique story. My story.

25

I turn my fan on even though its winter. Just to freeze. I wrap myself in a cocoon of tied blankets letting warmth seep into my skin. Limbs press together shakingly wishing for it to spread faster. I want warmth and comfort. But I can't have those. Maybe I'll wake up with them But as of now, late at night, my mind flows with possibilities and responses and ideas and wishful daydreams that will most likely never come true. because I dream too big and my brain has to process everything on overdrive.

0

Jan 19, 2014

Jan 19, 2014 at 12:38 AM UTC

maytin-paige

Overdrive

I turn my fan on even though its winter. Just to freeze. I wrap myself in a cocoon of tied blankets letting warmth seep into my skin. Limbs press together shakingly wishing for it to spread faster. I want warmth and comfort. But I can't have those. Maybe I'll wake up with them But as of now, late at night, my mind flows with possibilities and responses and ideas and wishful daydreams that will most likely never come true. because I dream too big and my brain has to process everything on overdrive.

24

I brought myself to this horrendous decade Darkness all over the esplanade Nothing heard, I hear nothing said Apart from the terror with which I’m being fed Shakingly,tears running,I have committed internal homicide My soul destroyed, again it needs to be purified Disturbia, Its simple,its the disease in my mind Disturbia, My faith lost,left for me to find Disturbia, Scared to my bones,what might occur? No time for me to rewind My whole life in my hands ruined All my decisions incautious,my doing Hunting me is my disturbia ,my feeling of rueing By its hands of evil,yes i have been varied My superiors guidance forgotten, buried I fear for me,I am greatly worried Disturbia, The chaos,my creation, i cant escape Disturbia, My perfect world crushed, now i have to scrape Disturbia, Undefined torture in its unbearable state When shall i awake from this nightmare The series of darkness all around me, truely near I’m searching for thee to make my life illuminate Out of havoc so purity can accentuate My reality gradually has become a travia But now its time , departure for me is the end of my disturbia.

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Feb 16, 2018

Feb 16, 2018 at 7:37 AM UTC

Naana

Disturbia

I brought myself to this horrendous decade Darkness all over the esplanade Nothing heard, I hear nothing said Apart from the terror with which I’m being fed Shakingly,tears running,I have committed internal homicide My soul destroyed, again it needs to be purified Disturbia, Its simple,its the disease in my mind Disturbia, My faith lost,left for me to find Disturbia, Scared to my bones,what might occur? No time for me to rewind My whole life in my hands ruined All my decisions incautious,my doing Hunting me is my disturbia ,my feeling of rueing By its hands of evil,yes i have been varied My superiors guidance forgotten, buried I fear for me,I am greatly worried Disturbia, The chaos,my creation, i cant escape Disturbia, My perfect world crushed, now i have to scrape Disturbia, Undefined torture in its unbearable state When shall i awake from this nightmare The series of darkness all around me, truely near I’m searching for thee to make my life illuminate Out of havoc so purity can accentuate My reality gradually has become a travia But now its time , departure for me is the end of my disturbia.

30