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"sniffled" poems
He noticed the little things Like how she would cry and grip the steering wheel Pull over, And pinch the inside of her palm As if trying to reignite the fire that her tears put out How she held on to her skin so tight That the tips of her fingernails changed from rosy pink To a suffocating and painful ivory How she would cry and cry And how she would wait until her palms bled And how she sniffled one last time, Wiped her palms on her pants How every time she did this, she drove home silently She noticed how he could not say a word How he must be utterly repulsed by her By how turned around she gets He must not be able to react to her abnormal ways Of dealing with copious amount of stress and anxiety She noticed the little things Like how he wouldn't know how to take care of her How she was trapped How she couldn't pinch herself out of this world How she didn't want to die, But simply cease to exist How she knew she couldn't ask him to help her "Can you pinch me out of this world?" "I can't." "Why not?" "You're the only person I have that brings me back When I sometimes pinch myself too hard." They also failed to notice the larger things Like how he held her in his lap And let her pinch to make her stop crying How she brushed his hair back when he couldn't stop How they kept a box of tissues in the car for moments like this When the other would need to pinch for a while To make the crying stop To deal with this abnormal way of coping with things To make the other remember That it might not be so bad to have someone to help you Get out of a pinch, after all.
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May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 10:15 PM UTC
They Noticed The Little Things
He noticed the little things Like how she would cry and grip the steering wheel Pull over, And pinch the inside of her palm As if trying to reignite the fire that her tears put out How she held on to her skin so tight That the tips of her fingernails changed from rosy pink To a suffocating and painful ivory How she would cry and cry And how she would wait until her palms bled And how she sniffled one last time, Wiped her palms on her pants How every time she did this, she drove home silently She noticed how he could not say a word How he must be utterly repulsed by her By how turned around she gets He must not be able to react to her abnormal ways Of dealing with copious amount of stress and anxiety She noticed the little things Like how he wouldn't know how to take care of her How she was trapped How she couldn't pinch herself out of this world How she didn't want to die, But simply cease to exist How she knew she couldn't ask him to help her "Can you pinch me out of this world?" "I can't." "Why not?" "You're the only person I have that brings me back When I sometimes pinch myself too hard." They also failed to notice the larger things Like how he held her in his lap And let her pinch to make her stop crying How she brushed his hair back when he couldn't stop How they kept a box of tissues in the car for moments like this When the other would need to pinch for a while To make the crying stop To deal with this abnormal way of coping with things To make the other remember That it might not be so bad to have someone to help you Get out of a pinch, after all.
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41
“Daddy” she asked “Why must you leave?” as she cried and her chest started to heave. “I’m so sorry, my Baby.” Daddy said, his heart started feeling heavy as lead. “Mommy and me just can’t stay together. Our happily ever after is no longer forever, but I’ll still see you, don’t you worry. Please just know I’m so, so sorry.” “Please stay! Don’t go!” She kept pleading as her chest grew tight with her breathing. “Did Jimmy or me do something wrong?” “No, Punkin, no! Please try to be strong. I promise I’ll come get you on weekends. Up to Grammy’s we’ll go, this isn’t the end.” Then to her Daddy she quietly said “How will you tuck me and Jimmy in bed? And hug us tight and kiss us goodnight and make the Boogieman shake with fright?” “It’s okay, Honey. Mommy will be here. You and Jimmy have nothing to fear.” “But Daddy, how will I be your Princess now? Answer me please. How Daddy? How?” “Please, Baby, please! Try to understand I’ll always be here to hold your hand. It’s not like I’m leaving forever, you see. I promise you’ll grow to like how it will be.” “Never, Daddy, never!” she said with a cry. “I never, ever want to say good-bye.” “Honey, I’m sorry. I really have to leave. Please, Baby, please! Let go of my sleeve. You and Jimmy will see me in only six days. If you count on your fingers, that not far away. I love you, my Princess. Please don’t forget, it will get easier. I’ll make you this bet: that after a while the pain won’t be bad. That you won’t cry so much or be so sad” She sniffled and shook and gave him a hug. “I really don’t think so” she said with a shrug. “I’ll miss you, my Daddy. Please know this is true. I love you, my Daddy. I’ll try not to be blue.” “That’s my girl” he quietly said as he quickly had to turn his head; for tears were falling from his eyes as Daddy and daughter said Good-bye.
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Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 9:44 PM UTC
Daddy
“Daddy” she asked “Why must you leave?” as she cried and her chest started to heave. “I’m so sorry, my Baby.” Daddy said, his heart started feeling heavy as lead. “Mommy and me just can’t stay together. Our happily ever after is no longer forever, but I’ll still see you, don’t you worry. Please just know I’m so, so sorry.” “Please stay! Don’t go!” She kept pleading as her chest grew tight with her breathing. “Did Jimmy or me do something wrong?” “No, Punkin, no! Please try to be strong. I promise I’ll come get you on weekends. Up to Grammy’s we’ll go, this isn’t the end.” Then to her Daddy she quietly said “How will you tuck me and Jimmy in bed? And hug us tight and kiss us goodnight and make the Boogieman shake with fright?” “It’s okay, Honey. Mommy will be here. You and Jimmy have nothing to fear.” “But Daddy, how will I be your Princess now? Answer me please. How Daddy? How?” “Please, Baby, please! Try to understand I’ll always be here to hold your hand. It’s not like I’m leaving forever, you see. I promise you’ll grow to like how it will be.” “Never, Daddy, never!” she said with a cry. “I never, ever want to say good-bye.” “Honey, I’m sorry. I really have to leave. Please, Baby, please! Let go of my sleeve. You and Jimmy will see me in only six days. If you count on your fingers, that not far away. I love you, my Princess. Please don’t forget, it will get easier. I’ll make you this bet: that after a while the pain won’t be bad. That you won’t cry so much or be so sad” She sniffled and shook and gave him a hug. “I really don’t think so” she said with a shrug. “I’ll miss you, my Daddy. Please know this is true. I love you, my Daddy. I’ll try not to be blue.” “That’s my girl” he quietly said as he quickly had to turn his head; for tears were falling from his eyes as Daddy and daughter said Good-bye.
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44
Mist left my lips It was so cold So cold that when I sniffled it froze on my nose Blue lips Black toes It's a dark world I suppose Fingers cracked and bleeding Oh the wind how it rose Snow falling and coating clothing Sleet falling and freezing on exposed skin Far too cold they said to be out in Could drop to twenty below I had to get myself home before nightfall It would only get worse I couldn't walk another step The feeling in my feet was gone My flimsy boots were soaked from the snow I knew it was far too late to save my feet The frostbite got to me I saw my toes were becoming the same The fingers unable to be moved Soon everything was numb The frostbite released me
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Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 11:22 PM UTC
Frostbite
I We are all soldiers. But don't expect political rallies. "The streets are ours!" Some other clichéd call to arms. Not from me. II My battles are taking place in unsaid words. In silent, sniffled phone calls. War is inevitable, "It had to happen someday" "No, it ******* didn't!" Protests a long haired boy. III You don't have to have an enemy to be a prisoner of war. My own silence has us chained together, And our cold handcuffs have left my wrists sore. It's clear to me, that as we are Both of us are doomed to starve. I try to cover your eyes and ease the shock, But the time will come for mercy killing And I will always be the villain.
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Jul 6, 2013
Jul 6, 2013 at 9:22 PM UTC
Poem by an Inexperienced Soldier
I’m so exhausted and burned right to the fingertip, blistering, painfully, every time we dare to touch. You’ve worn me down, dragged me through your loops of excuses and confessions and *please, try to understand, I never meant to hurt—* Yeah. I know. I said it’s alright. But it was never alright to show up drunk on a dinner date while I spent hours on my make-up and you forgot to brush your teeth. I’m so tired, baby. Have you ever had to look at yourself in the public bathroom mirror, choking on every tear and all the things you know you should say, but don’t because you just want to be loved at the end of everyday? Have you ever spit your emotions, literally, into the sink, watching them swirl down the drain? And have you ever had to tell yourself that you deserve this? That this park bench is a coffin and you’ve killed yourself again. That maybe, this actually is alright, because there’s things like second chances, karma, wishing stars, and a bright side. I’ve been here, not exactly, but in different ways that still felt like I couldn’t breath right if you were here but I would die if you were to leave. So I pulled my sweater sleeves over my hands, sniffled while you weren’t listening, and laughed when you tickled my ribs. Because this isn’t so bad. It could be worse. It’s alright. I think I’ll have an iced tea.
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Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 12:47 PM UTC
Here Again
You glided through life, laden with love You pushed and squeezed, and huffed and wheezed I was born into this world, a gift from above Let out a small yelp, sniffled and sneezed You loved and you cared Through good times and bad You put all matters aside, your soul proudly bared I would never want to make you sad I grew up to be tall and strong and you always cared Before that when I was still young What I did and said, you must’ve been scared I hope I turned out all right, now you can finally have fun It’s my turn to look after you You’ve done it for so long I’m grateful for that and a life always new A life transposed into a beautiful song Thank you for all the opportunities you’ve thought and given It’s changed a lot and made me be... Without you I would be nothing and id have never forgiven You are in my heart and soul, the very essence of me All my successes and failures were each life lessons learned But softened and sweetened by my lovely mom You taught me to let go, force bad memories to be burned Each day started anew, All these taught by none other than you... Thank you for your time in raising a son Life would’ve been so different without you You’re so special to me, without you I wouldn’t be Thank you for being the most wonderful mom...
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Sep 9, 2012
Sep 9, 2012 at 9:02 AM UTC
An anthology of Me (A poem for a beautiful Mother):
She sipped her salt water and wore glasses rimmed in a bloodred hue. Behind them, watery blue eyes glistened. Not sparkled, Mind you. She sniffled into her hand: "I've got this dreadful cold!" Makeup smeared and creased in wrinkles that had nothing to do with getting old. She lifted her lips to reveal her teeth once in a while. But not once, I tell you, Not once, Did she smile.
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Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 11:17 PM UTC
Salt Water
A slithering snake; Afraid in the grass. On his belly he wriggles; But can't take a step back. The rodent has sniffled Where doeth he belong? Suddenly swooping ; An awe-inspiring Owl from heaven swoops down; to Save. But the prey is afraid. There's no grey; in lifes laid. Be very afraid. Be very... afraid.
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Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 3:47 PM UTC
The Silver-tongue
Tonight, I saw a black creature, Move through the fields, It's long black hair, Like strands of fire whipping in the air, No eyes, no mouth to be seen, Oh it's just you old friend, Lucifer beamed, He sat on the edge of the old burnt tree, Dead but no one had the heart to cut it down, His voice tumbled out without a shout but it echoed," today's your day, are you gonna see the pearly gates" I sniffled a laugh, "you use to call that place home" He slyly replied, "see we are the same", As his blackened slender finger stabbed in the direction of my house, "Choose my darling angel" he belowed his glee noticeable, The weight in my heart dropped to my hand, Taurus Judge Revolver looked back at me, I looked up but he was gone, The wind picked up, Singing a sad song, **** yourself, **** Yourself, be free" I lifted the gun to my gaze, I could feel the cold barrel against my cold ear, I screamed," Make it stop" Boom, All was still, She was finally as they say, Free spirited
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Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 8:14 PM UTC
Free Spirit
She explained it to me, told me all that she could about it and how she hated it. Tears were in her eyes as she explained the pain she felt from the heartbreaking. Her nose nearly ran and she sniffled as she cried in my arms, nuzzled under my chin, her shaking form nearly as cold as ice. Her heart was once her own, her love was once brought only to the those who she deemed worthy, but that one person, that one human, made her empirical mind crash to the ground, ****** on by the rains of gloating hypocrisy. She is a shell and a mind of active saddened anger. But she always forgets that I know it better than she does
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Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 6:55 PM UTC
Untitled
"IS IT YER SELF THAT'S IN IT?" ( For good auld Bud ) 'Howya? ' said the stone (in a thick Irish accent) 'How's it goin'? ' said another stone to the left of the other one. 'So, you decided to come home? ' sneered a passing breeze. 'Ah...leave him be! ' shushed a familiar tree & an auld sod agreed: 'Let bygones be bygones! ' There I was thinking in French & gesticulating in Italian. 'Are ya...sure... ...it's himself? ' enquired a changing cloud. 'Sure...I'd know him anywhere! ' spoke up the road that led in(& out) of here. 'Ah, Jaysus... ...he's cryin'' sniffled an old gone-to-seed house & then, it started crying itself. This place grew me! ' sobbed my tears & now (somehow) either it or I had changed. Only the ghosts of ghosts remained.
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Sep 12, 2016
Sep 12, 2016 at 3:40 PM UTC
"IS IT YER SELF THAT'S IN IT?" ( For good auld Bud )
"IS IT YER SELF THAT'S IN IT?" ( For good auld Bud ) 'Howya? ' said the stone (in a thick Irish accent) 'How's it goin'? ' said another stone to the left of the other one. 'So, you decided to come home? ' sneered a passing breeze. 'Ah...leave him be! ' shushed a familiar tree & an auld sod agreed: 'Let bygones be bygones! ' There I was thinking in French & gesticulating in Italian. 'Are ya...sure... ...it's himself? ' enquired a changing cloud. 'Sure...I'd know him anywhere! ' spoke up the road that led in(& out) of here. 'Ah, Jaysus... ...he's cryin'' sniffled an old gone-to-seed house & then, it started crying itself. This place grew me! ' sobbed my tears & now (somehow) either it or I had changed. Only the ghosts of ghosts remained.
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Sep 14, 2016
Sep 14, 2016 at 4:52 PM UTC
"IS IT YER SELF THAT'S IN IT?" ( For good auld Bud )
What do you think Heaven looks like? Do you think we each have our own form of Heaven? I had a dream once about my mother’s Heaven. She called me from there, via FaceTime. Funny, right? We all know that’s not even remotely possible, but I think I wanted to talk to my mom so bad that my mind made it seem like it was actually possible. It was about a week after she passed away. It seemed so real, as I can remember it so vividly. In my dream... I remember how my phone showed “Mom Calling...” I couldn’t believe it but I answer it anyways. There I see my mom’s face. Gosh, was it so good to see her face again! I had missed her so much already. She began to cry so naturally, I started crying along with her. I asked her, “Why are you crying, Mom?” She told me, “I wasn’t ready to die, Sarah. There was still a lot of life to experience. I don’t get to watch Aiden grow up, or see you get married. I don’t get to experience any of that!” I could hear it in her voice that she was becoming angry. Then a voice called out, “Mom, are you really here?” I realized it was my older brother Michael calling for our mom. Michael had passed away when he was just a little baby. This was their reunion after a long 26 years of being apart. I could see it on my mom’s face that she was happy to see him. She returned to our FaceTime chat and noticed I was crying. She said, “Oh, Sarah. I am so sorry that I’m not there with you anymore but I promise you. I will always be watching over you. You’re strong, and I know you’ll be okay until you are called Home to Heaven.” I sniffled and replied, “Yeah? How do you know I’m going to be okay?” She smiled and replied, “Because you’re my daughter.” After some more crying, she says to me, “I have to go now. Michael and Grandma are waiting for me. But before I go, I want you to see my Heaven so you know I’m at peace now. That I’m happy.” She flips the camera around so I can see what is surrounding her. In all of its wonders, there it was. My mother’s Heaven. What looked like a garden full of Morning Glories—my mom’s favorite flower. And Hummingbirds— what she always loved watching as they fed from the feeder she put out for them off the back porch. It was so beautiful, and so bright. The beauty in itself brought tears of joy to my eyes. But then, my heart broke just a little more. Those words pierced my heart like a knife all over again. “I have to go now, Sarah. I love you. Bye.” The call was ended. See, I knew that wasn’t really goodbye. It was simply, “See you later.” Because I know one day, I will see her again. The day the Lord calls me Home... To my Heaven.
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Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 1:39 AM UTC
Inside Your Heaven
What do you think Heaven looks like? Do you think we each have our own form of Heaven? I had a dream once about my mother’s Heaven. She called me from there, via FaceTime. Funny, right? We all know that’s not even remotely possible, but I think I wanted to talk to my mom so bad that my mind made it seem like it was actually possible. It was about a week after she passed away. It seemed so real, as I can remember it so vividly. In my dream... I remember how my phone showed “Mom Calling...” I couldn’t believe it but I answer it anyways. There I see my mom’s face. Gosh, was it so good to see her face again! I had missed her so much already. She began to cry so naturally, I started crying along with her. I asked her, “Why are you crying, Mom?” She told me, “I wasn’t ready to die, Sarah. There was still a lot of life to experience. I don’t get to watch Aiden grow up, or see you get married. I don’t get to experience any of that!” I could hear it in her voice that she was becoming angry. Then a voice called out, “Mom, are you really here?” I realized it was my older brother Michael calling for our mom. Michael had passed away when he was just a little baby. This was their reunion after a long 26 years of being apart. I could see it on my mom’s face that she was happy to see him. She returned to our FaceTime chat and noticed I was crying. She said, “Oh, Sarah. I am so sorry that I’m not there with you anymore but I promise you. I will always be watching over you. You’re strong, and I know you’ll be okay until you are called Home to Heaven.” I sniffled and replied, “Yeah? How do you know I’m going to be okay?” She smiled and replied, “Because you’re my daughter.” After some more crying, she says to me, “I have to go now. Michael and Grandma are waiting for me. But before I go, I want you to see my Heaven so you know I’m at peace now. That I’m happy.” She flips the camera around so I can see what is surrounding her. In all of its wonders, there it was. My mother’s Heaven. What looked like a garden full of Morning Glories—my mom’s favorite flower. And Hummingbirds— what she always loved watching as they fed from the feeder she put out for them off the back porch. It was so beautiful, and so bright. The beauty in itself brought tears of joy to my eyes. But then, my heart broke just a little more. Those words pierced my heart like a knife all over again. “I have to go now, Sarah. I love you. Bye.” The call was ended. See, I knew that wasn’t really goodbye. It was simply, “See you later.” Because I know one day, I will see her again. The day the Lord calls me Home... To my Heaven.
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44
They lowered him down into his earthy hole where dirt once lay Cold and sunken eyes, closed within the wooden frame With puffy clouds the sun continued to race across the dark set sky As the  mass of black suited girls and boys sniffled good byes Some prayed Some cried Yet I only stood and stared At the man reduced to his fragile box of rectangular shape Who once thought and loved like I Some hugged Some needed a shoulder for help, for comfort And the box slowly fell with the most gentle sway More clouds came in as final words were said And just as the last tears were shed The first drops of rain did fall As if the world was crying What a sad day for rain
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Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 3:14 PM UTC
A Poem for the Loved
I held you in my arms Tight as it may Your eyes held shot As you convulsed a stigmatic farewell I sniffled you a goodbye I could feel my eyes melt I squinted back the tears My heart held. I held you in my arms I called upon your keepers Their white coats flared the air As they scrambled here and there Frantically and effortless I sat and stare gloomy from a chair Grieve gripped the air My heart held. I held you in my arms When you gapped your last breath Stiff and lifeless you lay there Peacefully in the mournful arms of death I sniffled I cried Questions in my mind You were not there It was pointless It was hopeless My heart held. I held you in my arms Now you're six feet in the ground It's been a numbered years But you're not here Once my heart held Your absence is felt But we must live Even after death. Heartbeats Thump! thump!!! Life after death Is it the beginning? Or is it the end?
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Jan 11, 2024
Jan 11, 2024 at 7:15 PM UTC
Life After Death