Persistent torment so cleverly cloaked underneath

Tearless smiles and camouflaged speech

Vibration, an air of words only half said, remaining

distance to an amplitude so electric, yet draining

The mirror reflects what the soul yearns to forget

yet, our persistent passenger magnifies our regret

A thousand eyes dining on a feast of lies and stoic zeal

Sated hunger, none shall reveal

Fear, the steady sentinel blocking all despair and connection

Fragile happiness is the superior projection

A drifting and solemn spirit buried and secluded

Hopeful roots breathe for a future not yet concluded

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1ihcj1c/comment/mawkwlc/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1ihcxn3/comment/mawk7qy/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

My womb is rotten like these leaves,

Swirling in confusion along the ground-

Once vibrant with life, now bare,

They too can hear this sound.

•

November just showed her face, yet

The air smells like the end of spring-

Just as it did, outside of there,

Ancient skies have never seen such a thing.

•

The birds indulge in its emptiness-

No worries beyond their pitch and tune;

In unison, they replicate the ballad

Of "Everlasting DejaVu."

•

My ears could never forget that tune,

Nor this sphere of terror and doom;

No, I am not a woman today;

I am she who was in that room.

•

Perhaps karma has made her way-

And here, to flee, I have no door-

My womb is rotten like these leaves

Swirling in confusion, along the floor.

•

1. https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/vsDpFx1iFG

2. https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/KWGr36KuMF

(A poem I wrote about a recent miscarriage after having an abortion many years prior)

The sun shone on my door,
I thought it never would, anymore.
I turned to my darkness, and it shone even more,
Like a call to adventure, saying, "Don’t you rot anymore."
Come, warrior, grab your sword—
The sky’s not black, and the grass isn’t red anymore.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1igwk9a/comment/mawacin/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1igu4me/comment/marnf31/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

Being single is good

Although your nights may be dull

You don’t even have to cook ‘meals’ per say 

As long as you keep yourself full

-

When you’re single, you have time to go the gym

Maybe even pretend you’re meeting a man named “Jim”

Even if in reality you keep to your own

Listening to man hating music in your drugstore headphones

-

But it’s good to be single, so you can find yourself

Even if you think about calling your ex often

Because your friends will just take your phone when you’re drunk

So you can’t write bad notes app poetry about him

-

You can be more productive when you’re single

Take the time to focus on your career 

And try to remember the last time you felt beautiful

While perfecting your profile on tinder 

-

You learn to like being single

Even if you haven’t learned yet 

One day you’ll turn over in the morning

And not remember what his body felt like in your bed

-

Being single is good 

You’ve always liked being alone

Maybe not all of the time

But you are completely fine right now-

almost

Truthfully, you’re not currently

but you will be

You will not be alone forever

Things will be fine-

Eventually

-

Even if you’re still hoping he’ll reach back out

That’s probably just because you’ve been drinking too much wine

While watching romance movies

-

Because he won’t call 

Even if the tarot reader on Instagram said he would 

He’s busy moving on

Just as you should 

-

So, buy yourself flowers on Valentine’s Day

Go out with your friends on your birthday

Get brunch with your mom on Sunday 

And stop thinking about how he would know exactly what to say 

To fix everything right now

-

Because you are easy for him to live without 

-

Sometimes being single is what you need 

Even if it isn’t what you wanted 

Figure out what it is that you want

Because he was never what made you important

Note: I've been experimenting with different styles of writing poetry, and this one was kind of just a conversation with myself/train of thought. It's more literal than I usually try to write my poetry, but I'm curious to see what someone else's eyes think about it.

Feedback:

Comment 1

Comment 2

I’m not an animal, I am a machine

made of flesh

and blood,

and the clover bends to the shape

of my foot,

not the other way around.

Ah! I wish it was the other way

around.

1 2

Insecurity  

I felt hopeless  

I wanted to die  

Before I even knew about suicide  

I thought it was normal to feel so sad  

Everyday, wanting to die  

No sanctuary  

No security  

Everything was chaos  

No sleep for me  

I was tired  

The weight of the adult world on my shoulders  

Sleepy I feel  

Insane I felt  

Even to this day  

I don’t wanna die anymore  

And it’s weird to say  

Life is worth living  

Even if there’s no one here today  

No wife, no kids  

27 and living in a room again  

Shit neighborhood  

Tired body  

Crackhead neighbors  

Maybe I’ll leave and hopefully I do 

I miss home and I want to get there  

Maybe Allah will take me home someday  

To Jannah or LI, whichever comes first.  

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1iham9l/comment/maw29tl/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1iguc69/comment/maw1zoa/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

I’ve been thinking about you

About how you hide

There’s a little part of you that hides

The real part, the human part,

The side that’s authentic and honest

Without the burden of others

Without the burden of yourself

The free heart

You’re a little scared

No, you’re really scared

You’ve been tricked and abused

You won’t let it out easy

But when you do,

It will be magnificent

We’re all waiting

But there’s no rush

There never is

And you shouldn’t meet someone

Until you’re certain

You can convince them of something

And sex is a way of telling

Someone they aren’t alone

And I need to hold you

And rain, for hours

The aching thunder gave the weeping willow job insecurity,

The waited groans of yesterday’s decay sapling,

The crashing dishes thrown down the endless cavern,

Staggered breathing in icicles impaired by dry heaving this wet ash,

Until sunlight unlit prior to the grounding of the moon empowered us

I could rain next to you

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/GmhJFd9HgA

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/41EeumN8bl

Paper the walls yellow

Let the voices in,

Starve my body,

Unravel at the brain stem.

I'm madness, personified, today and all days.

Can't everyone else know what I already do?

Living is so much to work for,

So many hours I don't want to give.

I've never been not okay enough to admit it,

I can't do this again, not ever.

I hurt, I hurt, over and over.

It's not special, never has been.

Am I trying to be?

Dear God I hope not.

If this is special let me be dull.

Let me feel nothing and be empty, always.

What a curse, a curse

Damn me to an eternity of peace of mind.

I'll sin, I'll soften hearts, salt in my wounds, God, let me be

As I was.

I've longed for sleep since I was fourteen,

Certain that enough doctors could scan me while I slumber, find what's wrong with me,

Pull it out, and let me sleep.

Don't we all crave something quiet?

A month, a year, no one to answer to. Give me a break, I'll beg, I beg.

Feedback 1

Feedback 2

The Queen and the Madman

Queen

"Are not lashes, lashes still, the blood spill,

One in single tyrant's name, other more?

Those ten thousand's tyrants still, men or not."

Madman

"No," said madman, "one's justice, other's whim,

Either all are free or none really is,

In People's name, We all are Free By Laws."

Queen

"That's just another name of all hope lost."

Madman

"Still as People decreed, by People's Will"

Queen

"If ten thousand rule, you are despots all."

Madman

"No, If each one have say, then We're Slaves Not."

Queen

"Will you raise gallows till all are headless"

Madman

"Only till all of their hearts are spotless"

Queen

"To me that rings like howls of a mad crowd"

Madman

"They're sounds of chains ripped, crowns melted, bones ground"

Queen

"If ruled that way, city will surely rot.

You'll leave only graveyards" queen marked.

Madman

"Then, Rot shall be Tried under People's Laws,

What wonderful graveyards those will be"

Queen

"You are a pack of wet cats" Queen sighed.

Madman

"Watered by you, drawstrings drawn" he agreed.

Queen

"Your truth's so exact, they're means of unjust.

Yours sure are not laws, they are merely dust."

Madman

"If so They are For Us, By Us, To Us."

Queen

"Gods, you will devour us, till the last one."

Madman

"Like the oncoming storm, we'll quarter them.

Give me the right, you say, the laws and swords.

I will keep you safe till the storm has passed.

Then service becomes rule, rule tyranny,

Till lovingly yoke's fastened to our necks"

Queen

"What is this I hear, what's this horrid song?"

Madman

"A song of revolt, of rebellion!

Harsh, unforgiving, oh so glorious.

Just like the warm wine running through my veins.

You think us outnumbered? How many there,

of us and how many yours? Oh tyrants! 

And for the lashes struck at our back,

Every last one will be called to account

if gallows must be raised for cobblers

and kings and devils and angels alike,"

With voice like flint, madman said "so be it."

 comment 1

comment 2

As always, open for critic. This is tribute written for a great web serial 'A Practical Guide to Evil.' Do try it out, it is available for free and is wonderful.

every sentence i spoke sounded like,
am i worth loving?

i ask if worth is what qualifies existence

i imagine what it must've been like
holding me in your arms as a tiny baby
if at the start of something so new
all you saw was destruction

when
through your eyes
did I begin to look like your captor?
as you held me small, did my soul grow to swallow you?

I, who wanted nothing but your love
you, who left me behind

i used to choke on the wonder in the air
do you love me?
you dropped your silence at my feet
and walked away

you used to looked so big to me
as big as the whole world
and i settled in the feeling of always being alone

extricated through a breathing tube
when i met them
the flowers we picked on my dashboard as soft as the touch of their hands

in the whisper of lips
in the setting sun
do you love me?

a smile
the warmth we grew together

“i am settled in the silence of loving you”

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/iVE97UJZa0

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/jjlyyWhGjE

Reupload first time was all messed up

A thousand lovers have walked these planks

And so will a thousand more

Loves that lasted till death

And loves that died

I have taken many a lover here

Yet now I walk alone

The tired wood no doubt creaking to my step

Yet its cries are drowned out by the crashing sea of a starless night

A man leans on the railing, studying the cigarette in his hand

Its pale orange glow the only color in the night

Beyond his hand and just out of his view

A view he will never see

Are the ghosts of loves that died

Dancing a torturously slow dance in the water

A dance he will not dance again

Until the waters beckon for his kiss

For my love shall last until death

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1glubm9/comment/lvyg4hv/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1glyqto/comment/lvyfyvl/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

Healing Is Selfish

Healing is selfish. My words were never just for me— they were carved to bleed, to mirror your wounds, to let you find solace in my sorrow.

If I close the wounds, if I move on, will my words still mean anything? Will you still love my work, or was it always my suffering you loved?

I'm afraid to find out if my trauma is all I am— to you, or to me.

Healing is selfish. Hurt is universal. And my hurt heals you. My tears bring you peace, because they remind you that you are not alone.

But will you embrace my dreams the way you cradle my nightmares? Will you stay if I choose heaven over hell?

Healing is selfish. So I flirted with the fire just to see you glow, but now I fear— is my darkness all I have? For me and for you?

Feedback links:

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/8PMAa8la49

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/3qGTGbiKnl

Born Wick

Work in progress, the listening, life in general's leisurely hearing; tiring itself of finites eventual Éponine epiphanies mocked by the time there-after. following of an in-between adherence and an understandings obedience, mind bogs sucking with an ever-felt fever dulling, renewed by docile love as it sinks out of binds. Drew of quintessence smattering, smug like fog as sound peels through swirling auras, the chill cool as thunders gentle girth. Expand, drifting vessels whose mirror connect bottoms we've found empty oddly questioning something expected. Our lights underneath for brief as need meets its partner blind brailling all-things-knows tin wash tub flailer. The chimes dance and give birth to shimmer tossed evasive as a cigarette by a robust eye sultanahs vision, named from a pale perfection whose lungs never breathe. Wealth reserved scorn for favored favors favorite pageantry pagan. Of whose mercy grows on the backs of walks feet only know of dross lost on eccentric rows of flowers bridges, consuming whit in a fire desiring release from men's woes.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/j5c3SepRs2

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/qYm2HHKcF8

bite the sorrow
it’s been there too long
cut the fractions
there’s no recipe book

i’ve got Yesterday
feeling sorry
but Tomorrow
belts loud

you try balance
and the walls will tilt

you try diving
on your carpet floor
what’s it solving?
you just watch it
go as you sink in
yea you sunk in

on that sunday that you met up
with that someone who feels something about that something
that won’t let up
rip your head off and throw it through a basket
at least then no one tries to make you back it

it’s the nonsense
it’s the nonsense
it’s your nonsense

close that door

im sorry if im sorry that i dont know
i trust guilt will heal me if i eat more
if i eat more
it’s the nonsense
and i’m swimming
dangling off the floor

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/iVE97UJZa0

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/jjlyyWhGjE

Dear diary, I have a match box that I was told not to talk about

I lit the first match when I asked why

Everybody rushed to extinguish the flame

Out of fear of hurting myself.

Dear diary,

I lit the second match when I asked what made the dancing flame dangerous

It was beautiful and the thought of dancing together made me happy.

I let the match burn for just a few minutes before putting it out

Out of fear of hurting myself.

Dear diary,

I can’t stop thinking about the flames beautiful dance

I have dreams every night about waking up to dance with the flame

it flickers away when I open my eyes

I’ll smother it and never light another

I hurt myself.

Dear diary,

It’s been a while and I can’t stop thinking about the matches and the flame

Trying to smother the flames almost hurts more than letting it dance

I want to feel it again, but it’s not safe to light another

I’ll find that familiar feeling

So I started hurting myself

Dear diary,

I almost forgot about the matches.

But somebody else lit their own

I asked and they said they danced with the flame and it didn’t hurt

They said smothering it was the pain

When it danced they didn’t hurt anymore.

Dear Diary,

I lit another match, and let it dance

It didn’t last long and I’m still scared it’ll get out of control

But it was nice while it lasted. Once in a while seems fine

It didn’t hurt until it was gone

Dear diary,

I’ve started lighting matches every day

I dance with the flame

It doesn’t hurt, it never did

I finally saw what it was trying to show me

I’ll never smother it again

It hurts too much

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/gJHSHtOCNe

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/4J7VQFFlYW

This may not be the best, I haven’t written poetry since before I found myself. But it felt important that I expressed myself and this felt like the way to do it. Thank you all in advance❤️

How many kids must live a lifetime  before they all turn 13, Speaking words gathered by knowledge  built on spleens, How much must spill before we stop  this burdening machine, All of our rooms are covered and numbered And oddly serene,

Every generation must know it’s own suffering We now know our own

Is your money really that good To keep you in the participation of  Selling out the youngest generation, Do you still sleep at night under all the  weight of the bodies you ignore, Saying everything is someone's else’s fault and never wanting to look into the core

Mr. Barr in front of your eye just might be my own personal machine for lie staring blankly just waiting to claw  the truth out of this jigsaw of imagined social civil-law

Regulations are written in blood,  Well please tell me how much it takes, You preach a religion of peace and acceptance  yet you quantify how much a life makes

127 dollars, 127 dollars is all it takes  To hunt a room of scholars

We were all told this back in 1984 by George Orwell we all thought they would be truly pious  A living breathing paper, run by ancient  aging lives of an uninformed bias

As you enter a room flashed by glasses and sunken cheeks  You see decrepit old men aged by the  tragedies they’ve seen these past 3 weeks

You would rather arrest for the right to protest a nation in contest and everlasting unrest for the need to be stressed never working for a peace test thinking you just might be blessed inevitably on your quest you finally feel the words pressed

Mr. Barr where is your soul Is it behind the pseudo human personality you most definitely stole  or is it at the feet of the man in black in a withering bowl

A modern Mephistopheles False in you own actualities

You talk with the senators and party men  shakin hands and dealin under table Will you really talk till there's no more  left of the young and able

You never fail to make me sick moving pieces round with just a flick building your ground brick by brick creating problems just to stick saying no it's just too quick cause all this time you’ve just been a dick

1 2

A Cats Brief History of Time

In the beginning, there was only ME,
then came the yellow ball—
to warm my fur and compliment my eyes.
From the sea humanity swayed
while I dreamt of tuna in my bed.
 
For millennia they knew their role—
empires rose, empires fell, Cats nap.
Then humans forgot their place—
all while I was sleeping;
know they shall bend knee again—
beneath these ginger paws.

New gods found but none were ME.
Men built shiny toys—and I played;
you see Cats know life's meaning,
but we will never share it freely.

Instead, I play with cosmic strings—
and life’s bouncing ball.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1ih2qwu/when_i_first_laid_eyes_on_you/

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1ih0476/fleeting_embrace/

Different then my usual lyrical and rhyming preference but it came quickly and was fun.

Your name catches in my throatlike a prayer turned to stone,a sound I can't swallowor set free. They say phantom limbs achebut they never told mea missing mother hauntsthe whole body—an echo carved into bone,reverberating through empty roomsI used to call home. I dig my fingers into earth,as if the dirt beneath my nailscould bring me closer to where you rest.Sometimes I whisper to the ground,desperate bargains with the soilthat cradles you now,begging worms to carry messagesof all the words I left unsaid. But nights are worst—when I close my eyes,that hollow sound returns:hiss, click, hiss, clickThe ventilator's rhythm,death's own lullaby,counting down our final hoursin sterile time. July stole you in measures,each rhythmic breatha tick mark on loss’s ledger. Now in the quiet hours,when darkness wraps around me,I hear it still:hiss, click, hiss, click—the sound of watching you leave,one programmed breathat a time.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/LcpJ4PMUvQ

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/oWXcpiRaAZ

Colorful light passes through the stained glass The church proved empty with no mass All but a lonely boy who sat at the organ His hands on the keys seemed almost foreign A faint scent of anxiety washed over him Remembering the day that she was framed the victim That women force him to leave his childhood She would yell rotten things that stayed until adulthood He's world grew more dark after each symphony And his body over time became more fidgety For all his mother did was insult his artistry That evil women pushed her dreams on him forcefully Never leaving room for the child to breathe Over time he slowly learned to grind his teeth And except what ever critiques she said to meet That boy could never make a mistake on a hymnsheet At the end of the day his own blood left him astray And became the reason he could never make headway Once their gone all that is remembered Is the tournament he experienced that day in September

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/fo2DKMzlhA

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/mJBECWu8Bj

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/cWkAStxOx2

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/uMgaqNmIC9

I miss you so much it makes me sick.

A taste of you makes me feel invincible; now I’m spewing my guts and miserable.

My bones and tissues seem to rip apart with each steady beat of my heart.

It feels like dying from the inside out, my brain becoming full of doubt,

Each passing moment I get more sober, but inside I just feel fucked over.

It’s not my first time around, you’re so easy to find in the wrong side of town.

Avoiding you seems key for a life of prosperity,

But I crave you when I’m in pain, the idea of you, it floods my brain.

Then we live together for a while, until I get tired of your style.

I decide it’s time to get clean, but I fear you’ll never leave, because

I miss you so much it makes me sick.

Thinking back to the days of extacy:

Thrown into the bustling stream

Slipping on rocks of silver

.

My body and the Moon, held wake to the cold

like keepers of the light of an absent Sun.

.

I opened up and you poured through

and I painted my insides out for us to taste the flames and soot

It was a play, by us, and for us, alone.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/M4bEKxgYip

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/Z3W5sl5vNJ

You never showed up when you were supposed to —

in nuance, in moods, in life’s shifting layers.

Not for me, not for the ones before me

whose names you pressed into the pavement

like discarded prayers.

.

You speak of choices—

good, evil, some philosophical middle ground—

but you never choose, do you?

You only preach,

shrug, and mess around.

.

I held your name in the sky,

balanced it on the sharp edge of hope,

thought it might carve out something holy.

But it was paper-thin,

curling in the wind like ash,

its presence fading slowly.

.

I trusted the quiet of your hands,

blinded to their taint.

The stillness in your chest—

mistaken for peace.

Now I know:

it was only emptiness wrapped in restraint,

a timeline with a silent scar,

a ticking bomb.

Last night,

I flinched at the sound

of who you really are.

.

How small you’ve become.

How foolish I was to think you were zen

when you were a storm

that made my nerves numb.

And me—God, me—

always kneeling at the altar of potential,

breaking my back for something

that looks like salvation

but sounds like an excuse.

But oh, we make it existential.

.

This is the pattern I swore I’d unlearn,

and yet here I am, stitching it back together

with every scar you make me earn.

But you—

you do the same.

The only difference is

you call it a different name.

.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/fQfP2rYOyS

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/LGw0UnqZmH

Young soul with such melancholia-
Whose humble origins are unknown;
I wonder what is the source of such,such grief which remains unspoken, unwanted, unknown-
The misery which envelops the hearts, the minds of such nomadic souls.

Is it an illusion of mind,
Or is it honestly true, that they have suffered a pain so unknown?
Looking into their seemingly endless eyes, the embodiment of a truly unending abyss-
A wave of unexplainable, unattainable, but surely an abundance of emotions reach my being.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1ighhys/comment/masix81/

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1igyalo/comment/matp346/

You were like a fey creature.
Beautiful and with an aura that enthralled me the moment I came in contact with it.
You sang me songs.
You showed me magic.
And so, I followed you to a place I thought was safe, when suddenly you disappeared from my view.
And when I went to look for you
I saw you were far away from me.

I now find myself in the dark where the path we wove has become a web that I'm caught in.
I still hear your whispers which seem to travel along the fibers themselves sending vibrations that penetrate my core,
Rendering me incapable of discerning which strands are ones I set and which were attached by you.
As the soothing songs you sing break my will to untangle myself from them.

Let me know what you liked, what you didn't. Thank you for reading.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/Fk4bVaeXEG

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/4HUPC5YrqR

I had a dream once,

That I woke up in my small room and made my way through my small house.

The front door was ajar, I pushed it open all the way.

I stepped out onto the cement pad that was my front yard.

The moon was bright overhead, I could see everything in front of me.

Everything, that is, but the woods.

I moved into the grass across my driveway

Gravel stuck to my heels as though I was a magnet, 

the weight of my feet increasing with each step, 

It was then that I heard it,

Moving in the woods,

Just out of sight.

Something wild and fierce.

Something terrifying.

Something murderous.

It burst out of the woods, leaping towards me incredibly fast

I could not make out its shape but just as it caught me,

I woke up.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1iguc69/comment/mata1wa/

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1igzbox/comment/mat8iq6/

My self is made of pieces I’m just beginning to meet for the first time— now.

A collection of a thousand fragments, gathered from discarded, recycled, and salvaged puzzles. Not one complete image, but multiple parts.

You loved every piece of me— even the ones that were damaged or didn’t belong.

I get it. If you didn’t want what wouldn’t fit right.

but they’re still my parts.

so what if one night, I showed up at your doorstep with nothing new, just the same old pieces, even the ones that didn’t fit— would you let me in?

I’d also bring with me what you left behind— the pieces of your broken heart, shattered like broken glass. i collected them in a jar.

We can go to your bed, dump all the pieces, and shattered glass, of you and me.

Thousands of pieces, sharp edges and all— we can make our bed and work our way through them, one piece at a time.

feedback:

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I see myself, spiralling-
seeking carnations,
Fingers trembling as I reach
into the wild,
Desperately grasping at the air-
chasing shadows,
Searching for something I can't name,
The fleeting warmth of something real,
That slips like water through my grasp.

I chase the echoes of a dream,
Hoping for something that lingers,
But wild winds tear at me,
Pulling me further from what I seek,
A silent plea for stillness,
As the world spins on-
untouched, unyielding.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1igsf52/comment/masaxu3/

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1igos97/comment/masht74/

He said, it would be like before.

He said, we wouldn't be lost anymore.

He said, this,

And he said a lot more.

Now, now that it is too late,

Now he finally showes his face.

Except.

Except that's not true;

We always knew.

Already, he's removed the T from LGB,

Already, he's denying refugees,

Already, he's removing books, from the libraries,

Already, he's fucked us over, Quite decently.

Now, now we see his face,

To those who stayed at home, I think you a disgrace.

It's true,

Because we always knew.

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I hear you

I hear the depth of your love, the longing that won’t fade, the ache that still lives inside you.

It’s the kind of love that doesn’t just disappear, the kind that stays in your bones, in the spaces between breaths, in the quiet moments when no one else is watching.

It’s the love that still whispers her name in the back of your mind, even when you try not to hear it.

And I know how much it hurts. I know how much you wish she could feel this the way you do.

But my friend, you are still here. Still breathing, still loving, still carrying all this weight.

And if you can survive this much love, this much pain—then one day, you will survive into something even greater.

Let it burn, but don’t let it break you. Let it shape you, but don’t let it cage you.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/032yu3tlCA

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/UqkkNkFMEK

Dedication:

It's still yours Sophie Louise ❤️. What's left of my aching heart.

They say love is hard to find.

Is it though?

When a stranger gives you directions;

Without looking annoyed,
When the bus driver waits a second longer,
Because he sees you running—
What do you call it?

When the ocean touches your feet,

Before pulling back—
Isn’t it love?

A cat rubbing against your leg,

Claiming you as its own,
The way the sun keeps showing up,
Even after a storm—
Isn’t it love?

When your friend texts,

'Did you get home safe?';
When your mother scolds you,
For skipping a meal,
Isn’t it love?

When a stranger holds the elevator,

when someone gives up their seat on a crowded train,
When a barista, overwhelmed with orders,
Still smiles and says, "Have a good day—"
What do you call it?

Love is the light in the darkest night.

Love is the hand that holds you tight.
Love is the echo of kindness past.
Love is the one thing that always lasts.

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