#spilled feelings
A fact about me is
I can’t write when I’m happy
The only way for me to
Write about happiness is
By making it all sad
Like a curse
All good things come to an end
You don’t miss something you have
Till it’s gone
‘I was so happy till ’
Oh god , Disney lied
Happy ever after doesn’t exist
Enjoy the moment
Until it’s time to mourn it
You know when you’re thinking about it
And smiling
But deep inside you
You wish you could go back and relive the moment
Be that happy again
Feel that happiness again
Laugh as hard
Love as hard
But hey , you can’t
So you start mourning the moment
Wishing it back to life
We’re all a little bit cursed
Why do happy moments
Have the power
To make us sad ?
i went to the beach without you tonight. it was dark out and there wasn’t a single star in the sky, because of course there’s not, theres never a clear night sky when i would want it most. maybe next time i always say, but by the time i get around to making myself look at the edge of the earth it’s always the same when im by myself. i am okay with being by myself. i would still rather have been with you, i still would rather be with you. i wanted to be sharing that moment with you so bad, i craved it more then you’re probably craving some sleep or your own death wherever you’re at as i write this. i hope that next time i go to the beach at one in the fucking morning and sit down on the path and let myself feel for once, it’s because i am feeling your hand squeezing mine or your breath on my neck or your arms wrapped around my body or you. i just want to feel you. and every emotion that comes along with you. your cold or your warmth were all i needed tonight because im just never hallt with moderation.
soooo felt this
I decided to add my collection of poems to Wattpad. Feel free to join me on there too!
Thank you for showing me love.
“You taught me how to love, forgive and care. You taught me how tough it could get and all the despair. You taught me my first words and how to eat, you made me everything I am, and I will ever be. Life seems dull when you’re not around, but with your one smile, everything turns around. You’ve given so much and asked for so little, you’ve sacrificed your dreams to make mine achievable. All my love and actions in this world will fall short in comparison to yours; it will take me a lifetime and many more to reciprocate yours. If I have only one wish, I hope that when I am born again, I have you as my mother all over again. because mommy, no matter where I am, I love you a thousand times more.”
- g.d. (Happy Mother’s Day)
“And I hope that the love you’re searching for feels like the first ray of sun hitting your face.”
- g.d (the sun)
“I want to love you between my sheets, baby. Shower you with kisses and leave marks where nobody can see them. I want to be the one that makes you see the stars and the moon. Be the one who knows what you like and how you like it. The one who knows what makes you smile like that.Be the one you seek out at night for more than just a hug. I want to be more and be forever. I want to be yours baby, forever and ever. I want to be the one you love between the sheets.”
- g.d (sheets)
“I hope to love with the same abundance I choose to read. Endlessly and wildly.”
- g.d
sometimes i wonder how many times you thought about giving up on me
probably more than i could ever bear to hear
forever doesn’t sound so scary when it’s with you
She became convinced that the measure of her existence hung in the balance.
That the complexity of her calm fell in the number of idle breaths she took a day
That her beauty was a scarcity of times that she glanced at the mirror without feeling repulsed.
She is fragile.
Picking up the broken pieces that were once amassed to create a woman. Beautiful and resolved.
All it takes for such a woman to fall, is the absence of someone to pick up the pieces.
And instead of being her own someone. Her own harrowing warrior.
She fell.
Cracked under pressure.
She was broken. And needed everything she swore she’d never want.
Searched for her own validation in the hands of another. And slowly wept; wilted away into her own self demolition.
She lived shadowed under a blanket of grievances.
They were no longer the materialistic obstacles that used to hoard her time.
The were deep and dark and ugly.
She’s slipping into a black hole of her own creation. In a list for validation to find value in herself hidden in the arms of another. When will she realize that she is the only person that will give her worth. She is the only one who can understand her value. And she must fight to be comfortable in her own skin and bones rather than listlessly searching for a piece of her, hidden in a puzzle of broken souls.
She is fragile.
But she will live. And she will learn to love the pieces that have gone astray, the rounded edges and the bitterness that keeps her up till early hours. She will learn to look into the mirror and be content. She will pick up her own pieces. Put them into place.
She was fragile.
But now she is found.
Pieced together the broken.
And the broken;
Now forever bound.
r.t.
If you want to talk to him: go ahead
Dial his number and press call
But when he feeds you the same lines again be careful not to fall.
Life’s too short to worry.
Does he miss me?
Or did he move on?
But if you find out he does miss you, be careful not to fawn
If you’re still in love with him; that’s okay.
Just protect yourself from the games he plays.
Don’t let yourself break
Don’t let yourself fall.
But by golly if you want to see him, Just call.
r.t.
Why does the storm rock the flower
That gives it’s sweetest pollen to the bees?
Why does our God promise prosperity,
Then leave us tortured and broken on our knees?
Why does the sweetest fruit in summer
Always get picked away to rot?
Why does the happiest moment of our lives
Turn into just another nostalgic thought?
Why do the bad things come
To ruin all the pure?
Leave the faithful broken,
Equip the corrupt with the cure.
Why do bad things happen?
A question I can’t understand
As I stare into his pained eyes
And try to feed him some comforting lies.
His father left, and mother has cancer
How can I give him a satisfying answer?
He doesn’t deserve all that’s come his way.
All he did was love.
And what he loved was taken away.
r.t.
A glass frame of mine.
A glass frame of mind.
Staring in at a stranger
Stranger staring back
My mind as good as shattered
Beauty scarred with cracks
A reflective type of window.
A respective type of window.
Distorted truth
Claimed it’s credibility like a crook
Hidden behind a lie
Can’t get back the toll it took
When you’re gone, every rain drop seems to drown me.
Every shadow casts an immortal darkness
Every glimmer of light seems to scald me.
When you’re gone, all the seasons happen at once and I am both hot and cold. Burning from the absence of your cool composure to soothe me. Freezing without the warmth of your smile to relieve me.
When you’re gone it is both night and day. I am a child scared to death of the darkness cowering in the corner trying to separate myself from the dark that your shining eyes used to transcend. In the daylight I struggle to steer clear of the scalding sun that used to be overshadowed by your cool and calming demeanor. Keeping me under a shadow of clear and blissful protection.
When you are here I am the blooming daisies of spring. Painting a portrait in a brisk and bright meadow. I am a Popsicle melting in the summer heat bright and sweet. A leaf painted with the pigments of fall, gently fluttering to the earth below. The first snowfall of winter crisp and refreshing. A piece of magic a mystery for the mindful eyes of a child sitting idly by the window.
When you are gone I am the thunderstorms that haunt the spring. My tears drench the daisies and leave them suffocated without light. I am the summer child left to stare at my melted ice treat. Left only to be covered in a sticky situation and scolded by my mother who told me not to indulge in sweets before settling down to dinner. An abundance of leaves coving the yard. I must be raked and hidden away. Leaving the yard immaculate. Away from the chaos of missing you. A blizzard that leaves the world hidden away under a thick sheet of ice. Cold and punishing.
When you are here, everything seems beautiful.
When you are gone, everything seems beautiful, except for me.
r.t.
Just a pulse.
Just a heartbeat
And a hand to hold.
Anonymous flesh
Just a warm body to lay down by
When its cold.
Just a place filler until they get older
a scapegoat
Just a sweet nothing to nurse a cold shoulder
Just a temporary love for when she needs someone to hold her.
Another one night stand will maybe tide her over.
Just a lost ship trailing towards the light
An easier pursuit under the cover of night.
Sun comes up and the search is finally over
Just a drunken eve, leaving bruises to find when sober.
Just a lost poem
Just an unsung hymn
The wrong love sought.
Anonymous flesh
Named by one
But she forgot.
r.t.
We speak without words
And breath without air
Our hearts compose without beats
And we shine without glare.
The earth seems silent
whenever we are together
The loudest of silences
Forever and never
r.t.
It’s shallow
But I’m drowning
In a hate so rooted deep
I’m lost inside reflections
An uphill battle that’s too steep
Taught to battle monsters
I keep fighting them with skill
forgot to warn me that the ones inside
were not okay to kill.
r.t.
Looking for all the right answers
in all the wrong places.
Looking to find myself
in everybody else’s faces.
Can’t keep praying
for what I swear I don’t need.
Can’t keep trying to understand
a book I won’t read.
I expect others to see value
in a place I never do.
I expect my plans to succeed
though I don’t think them through.
Obsessive.
Compulsive.
Right in all the wrong ways.
Seems like I’ll be stuck here choking on self-hatred
till somebody stays.
r.t.
It’s late and I miss you.
You were to be my everything
My refuge
You kept me safe.
From myself.
Happy.
It’s late and I miss you.
My mind wanders
I’ve thought up
A million things to say to you
Things I won’t.
But wish I could.
It’s late and I miss you.
And life is short.
But so was your temper.
And I’m still trying to make sense of what happened.
It’s too late.
I miss you.
You called today.
Not even the warmth of your voice could salvage the icy front I had put up.
You weren’t here when I needed you.
It’s late
and hopefully now you miss me.
But I think I’ve finally stopped
Missing you.
r.t.
If I write you into my world
Then I haven’t given you up.
I tear pages of you from my heart
Erase paragraphs of your existence
I try to rob myself of your presence
And still I seem to cry tears made up of your promises and
breath air polluted with your words.
If I break my own heart waiting for you
And scribble it on a page
Then I haven’t forgotten you yet
You don’t know the color of my eyes
The taste of my lips
or the pigment of my cheeks
when you say hello.
If I write myself senseless stories of you
Being everything I ever wanted
Then your breath is still in my lungs
I exhale.
Trying to expel your beautiful taste
that has become far too addictive.
I choke on good intentions.
And bleed desperation.
Desperate to forget about you. Desperate to no longer depend on that smile to set my day into motion
and that voice to lull me to sleep.
I try so hard to erase you from my mind, to cleanly reap the seams
binding you to my heart,
and binding my heart to my sleeve.
It wasn’t until looking you in the eyes
for the last time that I realized,
my inability to form
a coherent thought about you
unless it was spilled across paper in permanent ink, was the tangible prison destined to tie me down for all eternity.
You see, I had erased myself from the pages of your book, only to find that you cluttered every chapter of my own.
r.t.
