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"tearstains" poems
Tearstains unlock doors You reach out in darkness and Ask for me to come inside We sit in the space in your soul for Hours pouring out our hearts Until the light peeks through the Crack under the door Stepping out you dance away Into daybreak without farewell Leaving me in an empty shell My poured out heart is A puddle on the floor that You didn't embrace the way I did I might see you again When it gets dark And you recall Just how miserable Seclusion is Welcome back I've been lonely
0
Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 11:31 AM UTC
Black Balloon
Shouting a hello to a dark and empty room, Hearing my cry echo back to where I stand Alone without friends in the space of my mind Facing the harsh truth that my soul demands. I look for sunshine even though I only see grey. A level deep within takes pleasure in the despair Of the vast empty sky, bereft of warmth and light. Sitting here I loathe that which I feel I cannot repair. Curled up on the bed, clutching the sides of a hollow body, Wishing for comfort, for a companion to understand, I know that I’ll be right here again tomorrow, Even though there are some willing to lend a hand. Because this darkness has become familiar, Making it a comfortable, though destructive place. I unleash the usual wealth of tears and hatred, For frustration with who I am and who I’m not is a losing race. Rubbing at the itchy tearstains on already-red cheeks, I remind myself that I am not alone and that I am strong. But I no longer wish to believe that for how can it be true, When I’ve been crushed under this weight for so long? Pain is a feeling, which is better than feeling nothing. Crying for a faraway love, for feeling lost in my dreams, Shattered under the expectations of others (and of myself), Spiritless, with no motivation to sew the torn seams. Ironic really, how this feeling can hurt so much, Yet be craved with an incredibly forceful need. Like an addiction, knowing that it is wrong, But still I always choose the mind-numbing **** For it takes away the hard reality of life Allowing an escape into a world surreal. Because that seems better than the truth Of a world that I can no longer feel.
0
May 16, 2013
May 16, 2013 at 2:03 PM UTC
Addicted to Sadness
Shouting a hello to a dark and empty room, Hearing my cry echo back to where I stand Alone without friends in the space of my mind Facing the harsh truth that my soul demands. I look for sunshine even though I only see grey. A level deep within takes pleasure in the despair Of the vast empty sky, bereft of warmth and light. Sitting here I loathe that which I feel I cannot repair. Curled up on the bed, clutching the sides of a hollow body, Wishing for comfort, for a companion to understand, I know that I’ll be right here again tomorrow, Even though there are some willing to lend a hand. Because this darkness has become familiar, Making it a comfortable, though destructive place. I unleash the usual wealth of tears and hatred, For frustration with who I am and who I’m not is a losing race. Rubbing at the itchy tearstains on already-red cheeks, I remind myself that I am not alone and that I am strong. But I no longer wish to believe that for how can it be true, When I’ve been crushed under this weight for so long? Pain is a feeling, which is better than feeling nothing. Crying for a faraway love, for feeling lost in my dreams, Shattered under the expectations of others (and of myself), Spiritless, with no motivation to sew the torn seams. Ironic really, how this feeling can hurt so much, Yet be craved with an incredibly forceful need. Like an addiction, knowing that it is wrong, But still I always choose the mind-numbing **** For it takes away the hard reality of life Allowing an escape into a world surreal. Because that seems better than the truth Of a world that I can no longer feel.
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32
whispers of green that linger in the air wafting through the grey morning breeze the sun is shy today, i think to myself while i hide behind my own wall of clouds the water is cold and seemingly bottomless when i dip my toes in the murky black i watch it ripple and fogs of blue leak from my lips jump in the tide is waist-high and sends shivers spiraling down your spine wash away the tearstains of night and you'll find yourself looking for the sun.
0
Nov 30, 2021
Nov 30, 2021 at 8:50 AM UTC
looking for the sun
I wrote I love you in the sand at the beach Tide swallowed the words and drowned them But the waves were not the reason for impeding speech My awkward asocial character is the one to condemn   Now the words are gone like the tearstains on my sheets that I have just  bleached.
0
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 6:30 PM UTC
My Voice Was Lost.
There are scars on my Body that I will never Know where they came from. There are tearstains on My pillow I don’t even Notice anymore. I’m told I need help But I don’t even realize That I am broken.
0
Sep 1, 2018
Sep 1, 2018 at 11:26 AM UTC
Tearstains
*Solitary, lie-back moments; of being in the coziest of places surrounded by the most mundane yet magical. Melancholy has a way of tinging itself with those little nuances of memory, and those little nuances of memory tinge themselves with shades of bittersweet and sad recollection over time. Silent reckonings, simplistically suppressing thoughts - all huge contradictions to the slow, natural motion of letting the waves wash over you. Is this emotional maturity? Is this a step forward? Life is always full of too many intricacies to tell for sure. The familiar scents of tearstains and revulsion being punctuated by the occasional flicker of light ahead; pain and perseverance, hope and the promise of heaven. We are so full of contradictions - concrete, grounded beings yet with so many abstractions and complexities in our heads. A constant grapple, a relentless cycle. Coming back to places of washed up memories has this effect on you; but you pull through, you plough through quicksands, you pick up the small rationalities that have gone astray, and you move forward like you’ve always been doing before. It’s the only thing we know how to do. Walk on our own, on our own two feet. And pray that whatever knocks us down, will never be enough to sink us.*
0
Sep 25, 2016
Sep 25, 2016 at 10:31 AM UTC
The Solitary Mystery
If ever you resided within a chamber of my heart, Know that it still wears your decorations of affection. The crafts we built of time, The wrinkles in the draperies, The tearstains in the carpet, That used to bring us comfort. I may have changed the locks. Shuttered it to yesterday. But late at night, When all is dark, When silence falls upon my spirit, My inner child, A forgotten hope, A life we birthed and buried.... Cracks the door, From time to time, And sparks a whispered vigil, So light can touch the splinters In the plaster of my soul. A faded house of love... A place we once called home
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Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 1:58 PM UTC
Home
I am made up of fragments Bits of memory stain my skin And I can fade Into the woodwork, silent wallflower I have one foot stuck in the past, And I don’t know how to get it out Without twisting my ankle Oh, like-minded soul, Could you come To take me home? Oh, like-minded soul, Please, take my hand and lead me home It was so random, I dont even know how I spotted you through the fog of thoughts You caught my eye, your skin tattooed with memories Just like mine I saw the shadow in your eyes I couldn’t look away I couldn’t turn away from you Oh, like-minded soul, Could you come To take me home? Oh, like-minded soul, Please, take my hand and lead me Home I swear I see my own tearstains Turning your skin blue And I swear that those are my scars Shining on your arms And I might be looking in a mirror; Those eyes match mine Even though the color is off Our souls are the same, We feel the same odd heartbeat So, like-minded soul, Tell me, do you know way home? Oh, like-minded soul, Let’s go find the way home Oh, like-minded soul, Could you come To take me home? Oh, like-minded soul, Please, take my hand and lead me home Ooh, like-minded soul, I’ve come to take you home Oh, like-minded soul, Take my hand, I’ll lead you home.
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Mar 22, 2016
Mar 22, 2016 at 7:30 AM UTC
Like-Minded Soul
*I spend my days waiting for night to come, And nights awake waiting for day. 
It’s a hopeless conundrum,
 Like waiting for a flight in permanent delay. My bedroom has become a terminal
 Where tungsten lights seep through tearstains,
 Where happiness is a criminal
 On the run from your grenade. I’m waiting for your satisfaction
 Your smirk of approval, your disdain,
 And all I get is a kiss from your shotgun 
Blown off, blind-sided once again. What’s another day to me 
One step closer to being depraved 
Of meaning, of purpose, of distinction; 
I’m just another patient face. I’ll wait.*
0
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 2:37 PM UTC
Waiting Room
there is something powerful about holding a pen in your hand and writing down all of the things that you know and that you don’t so my tearstains litter the page like petals falling from my pen because my eyes have lost their caring long ago I’m not sure when but at some point being okay became more important than being alive so I don’t really cry anymore. can’t. sometimes I know that I should but the tears don’t come and I feel a little less than human but this is how i love myself: honest ink tracing words of the heart words that hold my essence better than i ever could words that voice my joy and my hope and my anguish words words words
0
Dec 31, 2017
Dec 31, 2017 at 12:36 AM UTC
to Love
I said I loved you, I don't know if I ment it, My mom asked me questions, "What colour are his eyes?" "I don't know blue I think" "Is he left or right handed?" "Left I think," "If you loved him you would be able to ansewer these." I think that is when I knew, That I didn't love you. You were irivicably in love with me. There was nothing I could do, To convince you not to love me. I tried to let you down gentaly, And you apreared to handle it well. But later I saw you eyes, They were red and puffy, There were tearstains on you cheeks, And I knew that you still loved me. I heard that you were going to **** your self. The first thing I thought was, "If he is going to **** you self over a girl you have some seriouse issues," Then I heard from someone else That you were saying it to get my attention. And I thought, "He is way to desperate," I am glad I broke up with you. I am not sorry I broke your heart.
0
Oct 30, 2012
Oct 30, 2012 at 5:10 PM UTC
Him
"Once Upon A Time" when I was a child heard that line many times In the end nobody cried, everybody was happy, love would ignite. Always though that was the truth, and that a Once Upon A Time would come for me too but now I have grown to realize that fairy tales aren´t real life. Love will never come at least not in the way I thought. But with pain heartbreaks and tearstains. My prince won´t be there. and my happily ever after won´t be the end.
0
Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 1:21 AM UTC
Happily Ever After.
*January 19th: The plaid sheets that used to be home to all of our memories, is now stained with my tears. I want you to know that you’re still there and that your hoodie is still sitting in the back of my closet, its scent strong enough for me to smell the memories of those winter nights. Your half-empty box of Camels is tucked away in the opening under my floorboards. I always thought that would be what would’ve killed you, not that **** car. “Those things ‘ill **** you.” I would always say. “If these things are the one to **** me, I guess we weren’t together long enough for you to do it.” You would always reply, with that quirky smirk of yours. These are the conversations that I miss the most. Sitting on those sheets and pretending you’re right there is how I spend my days. They said that we were young and stupid and didn’t know anything about love. That we wouldn’t even remember each other’s names come next year. I miss you, God I miss you and I just wish you would come home to where you belong, with me. Jess January 22nd: It’s 11:27 pm and I’m sitting on your grave. I have permanent tearstains on my face I can’t stop crying. Stupid you and your stupid grin that I fell in love with in the first place. Stupid you and your stupid scar above your right eyebrow that you got when you fell off of your bike as a kid. Stupid you. I love you. Can’t you see that? I’m right here, and I love you and want you here with me. Jess*
0
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 12:19 AM UTC
Camels
I am too much of a coward to say this to your face But since this is a poem I don’t feel as helpless Because my thoughts always made more sense coming from my hands than my lips Since this is a poem I’m less afraid to confess How I loved that you chose me And how I will do anything I can to justify the trust you’ve given me Since this is a poem I will admit that this was the first time I have cried for someone else And that the space before you answered your phone was wrought with a terror I’ve never known Still, since this is a poem It is easier to lie when desperation rips off the mask you have so carefully constructed And you stumble into my arms Asking—no, crying whenwillthisendwhenwillthisendwhenwillthisend between gasps for air Soon, my love, soon I promise Since this is a poem Maybe you’ll finally listen When I say that you are not a burden Or a ****** friend (I know because I have been both, way too many times) Since this is a poem I can whisper and SHOUT and emphasize my words Until you understand That you are the one person I have ever truly cared about (And only you know what a big deal that is for me) You can keep apologizing for being weak But all that hurts me are the tearstains on your cheeks And if you are an anchor Then you must be chained to sky Darling, haven’t you realized by now You are the only reason I am still alive.
0
May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 1:10 PM UTC
Since this is a poem.
I wrote you a goodbye letter I still have it folded and creased and hidden Inside of my bedroom The bedroom that has concealed so many of my secrets Over the years I know our bond died Fourteen months ago But our loyalty never did And my love for you like a sister Is undying I didn't want to say goodbye I couldn't think of the words I put it off until the absolute Last Possible Second The morning of the last day of school June 26th Social studies final exam Still unable to accept I'm saying goodbye to you Forever I typed it up at the breakfast table Rushed words I over thought the night before Tears refuse to stop flowing As I write to you words Of how much you mean to me How much I miss the old you How I will never forget our friendship How the memories are eternal And nothing Has ever Ever Hurt So Bad As losing You. I waited for you Alone For ages For a thousand eternities that past Within seconds ... ... ... ... ... ... You weren't there. I wrote you a goodbye letter With tearstains and love Even though I hate you Because I love you I wrote you a goodbye letter That you never read And I still keep it hidden away And I feel you forgetting the mememories The laugher The blue heart The loveliness The strength The love Forgetting it all With every breath Forgetting me ... It's okay I'll be okay ... It's just that, Well, You didn't say goodbye. And I wrote you a goodbye letter
0
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 11:54 PM UTC
And I wrote you a goodbye letter
More often than not I find myself looking through space like there's something there for me to reach for But you see ghosts are just the dead trying to fit their way back into our lives when they no longer can And whispers only travel so far before they become hush hums in the winds you blow I'd give anything to be able to share it with you and have you see past what you let yourself believe But dandelions fly too far sometimes and they don't really ever find their way back even on the expressway I only really wear the bracelets I bought to hide the secret lines I write at 3am on the bathroom floor And you don't watch or look out for the silent flinches when someone grabs my forearm Neither do you question the tearstains on my pillow when you come over never So when I'm reaching into the vast amount of nothingness for something to keep me from breaking I hardly ever come across anything that will help because you can hardly mend broken things that are still cracking at the edges and crumbling into dust
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Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 6:57 AM UTC
Life In The Eyes Of My Own
you take, and you take, and you take; anything to fill the void, anything to keep it going, and it's always just one more. you take pills, you take hearts, you take memories of those who weren't fortunate enough 'cause in comparison it seems that you are better than this, but you know how much it hurts, you know exactly how it feels. so you lie, and you lie, and you lie; with your tearstains on the pillow, that's no way to live a life. but there's nothing left of you, you took it all to fill the void, so now you have to keep it going and you swear it's just one more.
0
Aug 14, 2024
Aug 14, 2024 at 10:00 AM UTC
just one more
Your tears will speak for you while your loss dries up all words. The spreading tearstains on my shoulder are eloquent enough.
0
Jun 26, 2019
Jun 26, 2019 at 7:28 AM UTC
Tears
I'm bleeding horizons into the carpet with every ideal I can't obtain. Oxygen catching in my throat, my lungs don't want it anymore. You left me heaving promises into thin air and holding myself up on a chair with a missing leg. Who are you to tell me what I don't want? I'm not scared of you. (I'm terrified.) I can walk this earth alone and confident. (Will you catch me when I stumble?) Tripping over my own tearstains is an accident I've grown used to, but outsiders still think it odd... Who would've known to be afraid of themselves?
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Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 4:33 AM UTC
Riots
When you make a friend, Someone who knows you, And feel like she will stay till the end, A feeling develops within you, The more we talk, The more this love is there for you, A friend who would mock, A friend who would talk, About endless dreaming with you, Make plans with you, Always talking over text, Everything is perfect, And everything blinds you, Cuz you love her, But....., She never loved you, You imagined a life with her, U can't leave her, And she loves someone else, She will be with her lover, And you can't even talk to anyone, Cuz you loved her, And she was your best friend too, You have no one to talk to, You don't know what to do, Just....., Feel this familiar pain, A pain you are used to, This is what you get, For being kind, Loving, Caring, And good, To someone so much, Just pain, Just tearstains, And sleepless nights, And empty stomach, And broken heart, You are not ready to smile again, To try yet, Cuz everytime, This is what you get.
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Jul 8, 2018
Jul 8, 2018 at 1:34 PM UTC
This is what you get
I have never been sad. Tearstains are nothing but memories of heartache and I want to forget everything. If I could love you, and grace your lips with my touch, without force, would the notion be reciprocated? I used to wonder what it felt like to be a bird: I am constantly trapped in a cage of my emotions. My song knows no sweetness. I am a Siren. I am broken without sorrow and sing only of those cold nights that lack your presence. Missing you is regretful. I have always been destructive.
0
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 4:44 AM UTC
Bug Report
anklets and bloodlust what an unsettling concept
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Mar 3, 2018
Mar 3, 2018 at 11:11 AM UTC
bloodstains and tearstains
Open the door to where you store the pain, where you sit on your swing in the driving rain. Let me in to the coldness of your dark, that yawning abyss untouched by your heart. Open the chest that conceals your true identity, weighing the cons with the wrong quantity. The power you have in this world is fettered only by your need to never feel bettered, to have your own invaluable name unlettered. Don’t hide your repositories from me, unlock them all and let me see. I am your ally in this battle, in this war, hear me tapping gently on your bolted door. I see the tearstains rotting the bedroom floor, be brave and I won’t let your hurt any more. Open the door to where you store the pain, where you sit on your swing in the driving rain, your feet off the ground with nothing to gain by staying up high swinging in the rain. Don’t forget what you’ve won and what’s still to gain, open the door to where you store the pain.
0
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 2:57 PM UTC
Pain