To someone in pain.
All we did Was rise like waterfall-And we feared falling back down.Like we owned success.-we forgot; that we usually made poetry from ups and downs. -theuglyink
The sadness in you.
I used to joke about your hair, And how rumpled Your school uniform Appeared on your skin. Sometimes, even call upon everyone To make mockery of how you smiled In different patterns.You never brought home good grades.I laughed at that too. And many other things-I could fill a whole wall downtown with it;And they will spell out your attitude.I won't say you cared less,You just had a unique attitude that fit everything. I don't have a proper name for that. You never smiled more than once a day. So 365 times a year, unless after 4 years,Your face will glow one more day, until daybreak. Your smiles hurt me sometimes, They were too fragile to abandon.I remember always racing to the backyard to see you smileWhile sweat dripped over your face;You said that was your way of giving back to the soil-That they were too parched and full of nutrients too. And then you'll smile. That was the sadness in you, Filled with your smile.And truly they were patternsIn everyone's tale. -theuglyink
I stopped using red inkTo scribble my thoughtsBut my body said It’s only something as strong As the heart that can bleed.And ink keeps too much to itself. -theuglyink
At what stage Do we believe That we are old enoughOr rather that Our senses of maturity Have claimed themselves In our hormones?Does maturity mean That we are able to tell Right from wrongAt all times?Or is it when We are able to live With our mistakes As memoriesAnd learn to repeat them Without the mistake itself?Today, Thousands of mistakes Are buried in my palms-In a few tomorrowsI'll become 'legal',Can I cherish my childhood As I claim as an adult,Will I even behave A few degrees more Than a child?Can my heart Become hardened so quickly,So that it will not shatter on reality?- and when did the others leave, With the pair of goggles they blinded me with, Do I now have to face the world And politics with my own eyes? -theuglyink
Typo: third line I meant to insert 'it' before 'is'
Endings used to scare me but I realised some endings make a path for you to reach the ultimate destination -Peace.Be it in this life or not.
my gut is characterlessbehind the hushed sobsbehind the clean scenesbehind the closet of acrid saltslet me dissolve in water, i don't remember if it's raining or my tears make me feel safe, salty i amgear up - i don't want the ghost of you to know i'm crying, dying i'm too naive to think you'd careyou're too cold to prove me rightit doesn't sit rightit doesn't fit righti look terrible, sleepless nights make me madi need to stop hurting, i'm serious don't move - i feel wilderness in your movementsstay here - i'll shut my eyes soondon't fade before i doze offeverytime i breathe, blood flows out of my earson the cold cold floori'm exhausted, still inhaling your stinksi need to stop with the drinksit'll get me killedi'm sure that's all you'd wish forbut now that youdon't care, i am cupping hope with my parched handsso, pass me the tissueand leave. //leave. cause i need to remind myself - breathe, breathe, breathe and repeat//
leave. cause i need to remind myself - breathe, breathe, breathe and repeat
@mirakee @writersnetwork thank you so much for the kind reposts and my very first pod, it means a lot to me
contrast in shades
my hands are thinbut i hold pencillike a weaponthe reflection ofdersertion and despairin their eyes haunt mehe is a gem dropped from god's ring fingerhe drags his sleevesacross the streets searching for fightsgamblings and poisonsis this the difference between him and i?my eyes are widei drink this world's iniquity swallow it like i am professional coffee drinkeri can see that the world has hazy lines he drinks my portion of love and carehe is a professional tooa professional killerof my childhood fantasiesis this the differencebetween him and i?my lips are chapped and my vision is brighti cross my legs when i siti've been fed portions of mannerisms and etiquetteshis shoulders are slumped he shrugs off all the worries in the worldand doesn't even botherwith the next oneno one asks him to walk holding the rope that neither has a starting pointnor it has an ending pointis this the difference between him and i?i have stored shade of wintersolstices and my verseslike city lights in the raini contemplate him as my brotherhe doesn't even regardme as a fellow humanmom thinks of him as a body as the repositoryfor the soul of affectionand a skilful artisti am a girl a 'she'and he is a boy a 'he'he is the heir of dad'samateurish disdainsand i ain't even their childbut just an abominationis this the differencebetween him and i?~ｓｈａｓｈａｇｉｌｂｅｒｔ
SOS - Heart
...If love tastes likehappy tears,then you should be December.But rather than all the merry and jingles,you remind me of September.‘Cause with you,it’s a never ending fallwith a hope thatI sprout wings.But you always plucked my feathersto adorn your hatand hid me in your chest.When I bared myself to you,you laid your eyes on my naked selfknowing it wasn’t the first pair of eyes to do so,but it was the first for my soul.And when my wordsflew and became clouds,you danced in the rainnot knowing thatthe ghost of my tearsstained your favourite shirtthat she bought.Maybe if the ticket stubsthat my old diary carried flew away,you’ll see how your heart beats for her,and never for meeven for a day..../4866 tales of heartbreak/-lost forever-
@soulfulstirrings @writersnetwork @spicy_sugar @love_whispererr @seyfert
You are the hopeWhich makes me love my life!©fatema153
I'm not sad I just can't feel love of our last goodbye anymore.©acrystalgirl
My poetry smells like a scar,he savor them like the moon.-Ananya
Someone writes about you but you might never know.