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Poetoftheway Aug 5
how do you know when (a human is too broken?)



<•>

human too broken?

like the light bulb, removal from its fixture, a simple shaking revelation of the tinkling filament spent, something that cannot be repaired, the only option is replacement and that makes
you cry

the empty box of oatmeal raisin cookies, you find secret’d,
hid by you, not to be found by you
at the bottom of the kitchen garbage,
but box betrayal, by the chartreuse tipped box lid sided
peeking upwards, asking, silencing screaming,
what did I do to deserve
this degrading

like the blouse now too tight that it brings stares as the buttons strain, unwelcome attention unintended,
you know it but still pretend not to see,
for you both once loved that silky guise that so
heightened the high tender, the match of your pink rose skin letting, no! making
your eyes glisten, like broken filament glass, on the sidewalk,
recalling the pleasured admiration,
rain remembered from the
prior priority of a life consisting of only
perfect gifts

so mean revert to the poseur question; this is how...

remove the human from a fixed place, whimpering-threatened,
you may hear clear the crackle cackling  of the innard shards against the misperception of a body intact,
even if you do,
no repair service you want,  can be found, see it nowhere,
is it even
anywhere advertised?

the body presumed intact is secret’d under a tactile coverlet,
holey scupperrd holy cuttered
so that the cells and bicuspids, the threads
no longer function in a tandem,
you keep it in the closet closed,
in the back, deep hid, where,
when it screams why,
it can be safe ignored,
because  ‘betrayed’ is no longer a word,
in your globe's dictionary,
the parental controls activated by you to
save your own inner child’s unconstrained confusion,
it has been removed


so the broken glass, the clothes you dressed each other,
if not weep-well,
well enough hid,
the fit is off,
the fit is off,
the coverlet ripped so bad and neither cares
an unexpected poem, unplanned, needing work
aug 4-5
ellie Mar 12
countless stares and empty chairs.
a newfound solace in this empty space.
this was my ig post’s caption. i got inspired with the photo i took yesterday. (@amour.ella if you wanna see the photo lol)
Johannes Coetzee Sep 2016
I love the way you wrap your eyes around me
Your kitten eyes, snow white smile and innocent face
I love the way you and I hold hands and talk for hours
Our deep empty stares; ending with passionate kisses
I love it when you call me baby
Your eyes must be a reflection of your love for me
It seems to be the only thing linking your heart to me
I love the way you and I make love
So passionate
I love the way you appear in my dreams; bringing about light into my dreams
You and I
Just you and I
Like lovers do
#love
A Sad Alex Aug 1
It follows me around you know
Maybe it never really left
It hangs around the air, light as a feather
But it´s presence, heavy as a weight.

As I sit on the bus, an empty seat at my side
It sits, it looks at me, and it stares...
And my mind is flooded with thing we used to do
Things of lovers: to kiss, to hug, to lose myself in you
To show you my affection, to show you I cared.

As I go out to take a walk, it walks by my side
It matches my speed, no matter how slow or fast
And my heart weighs heavy with things I could have done
Tell you I love you, being there for comfort
So much time wasted, never to return.

As I lay in my bed, it lays by my side
Perfectly still, just outside of my grasp
And our future banishes in front of my eyes
Our home, our family, our lives intertwined
It tears me apart, as I begin to cry.

It follows me around, but I can´t leave it behind
The ghost of you, it haunts me day and night
The mistakes I made… The errors of my ways…
I pay for dearly, every single day
Loneliness follows me, and it has your shape…
Hopefully you guys enjoy this one, I felt a bolt of inspiration to write this, and that is one of the best feelings on Earth for me, to just pour yourself on a poem.
Elder D Anthony Apr 2017
First of all,
Does my title sound witty bud?

And why cant you talk back me?

You wag and shake like you lack,
A spine.
Yet you're stronger in whole than I,
A sedentary dud.

I feel a certain level of respect between us;
Our eyes.

Sentences lost in deep black stares,
I feel you conscious of myself
And the feeling isnt mutual?
Lies.

They can say,
Talk,
Argue,
Scream,

That my love for you is in my head
Or something fleeting like a dream;

But, as mans best friend,
And my best bud
I wrote this today for you
My love.
My dog is getting old and finally a stupid little tag inspired me to write about him! Thank you Hello Poetry!
Prabhat Chhetri Feb 2017
If eyelashes are shore to rough tides
consider me as blind as daylight
I never claimed to know  
where all these binary days go

she stares her sunshine into digital trees
and if there is a shadow looking at me
then why the fuck do we still write about people who leave
and why do clichés even exist

and the morons penning apple seeds
can't stop hours from turning wheels
and you might be as blind as me
to think this scribbling will ever cease
Ilion gray Sep 9
I remember

The way it was...

One June afternoon, when everything in the universe broke...

I was walking down Bushwick Avenue amid the crumbling concrete,

a Brooklyn Bound L train skimming beneath
The Earth,

Amid the strident race of rusty,
tinted town cars drifting
through the traffic.

Turning left down Madison,
nothing could prepare me for the silent,
pulseless minutes that suffocate,

There would be no sound in the apartment tonight.
No other soul wrapped in wanting skin.

I loved you savagely...

                                         I'm going to be alone,

the concrete has expanded since you left,

The blocks are longer than last summer...

The hours just pass.

what it took to get to the front door... From the corner...

The fear of entering our house

After I've lost you, I come home where all these memories are stained,

Black streaks of desperate cigarettes,

Big Black trash bags full of empty Scotch whiskey bottles, filled

With Guts,

Blood teeth and pounds of skin...

With miles of empty dry veins,

Like a river that God Fell
into these days, have become too long.

Sometimes I wish I'd never felt the Sun

its fingers burning my skin,

I will burn
from every memory of you.

The total emptiness of this space, where love was put to rest,

The emptiness just stares...

Stealing seconds from shallow pockets of years,

Stealing years,

From the shallow pockets

Of life
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