#mrm poems - Hello Poetry

#mrm poems

17 poems containing #mrm

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to my best friend,The person who always / knows when something’s the matter / But doesn’t pry because time will tell

29.5k

lightningpain from within is like a shot of lightning to the chest / that no one sees / but everyone hears

416

photosynthesisblood isn't effective / because someday you'll run out. / we know this.

400

legowhat are issues if not explosions? / i know most, myself included, prefer a slow burn, a quiet scorch, / but explosions are inevitable.

370

rain barrelgood can always come from bad / call me a hypocrite, but drowning causes life / and thinking causes death

340

sprinklefor shaking hands, i find a prudent remedy / is a rainy day / doctors recommend laying on the pavement

340

realtysometimes i find it's easier to stop trying to find / that specific blueprint in the back / of a drawer

331

iced overthat temptation for me didn't come in the form of drugs or alcohol but the intoxication of others / i admit i found solace in their lips and their hips and everything inbetween / but is it wrong to want lust when love has fucked you?

273

tarnished wingsbut the rust still remains. / between your fingers, in your hair, cracking across your lips and the birds you admire from your broken window. / did you ever stop to think that it made you appreciate being clean?

272

level upit doesn't hurt to lose skin against skin sensations? / maybe i'm extraordinary, but / aching hurts

258

sticks and coalfire doesn't always burn out. / once it's there, it is always there. / it may not still be roaring, but embers have a way of incinerating you, just at a slower pace.

250

black coffee and titanium spoonsif you visited my mind you'd find a lot of broken teacups, / glistening with the remnants of silver that pushed its way up my throat when i realized that i was alone again. / and if you wanted to look closer- watch your step, more shards- you might even find a glint of titanium somewhere. it started slowly, a taste for black without the need for sugar and cream, and grew.

222

wet shoes and uncaught dreamsand the wandering continues through abandoned boathouses where we hung up our words at night / soaked to the bone in emotion and despair yet clinging to the hope that tomorrow would bring smoother tides / how could we have known that silver only lasts for so long before it tarnished, and inspiration is nothing if not fleeting?

221

i see you.i miss writing hearts into my eyes / and drawing bombs over my heart / and dipping it all in silver,

152

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