Poetry For All discussion

This is where all of my poems can be found =]

This is for a past lover—here's to us and what we were

TW
(view spoiler)[context: she passed away last year from OD and carcrash (she'd OD and then crashed my car) (hide spoiler)]

My Shoebox

Every time I get a letter, they go into a box.
The box is simple: brown, red, rectangle.
It used to be an old Vans Box.
Well, it still is.
But now it's used for storing other things:

Envelopes, pens, stamps.
Addresses, notes, paper.
Letters, letters, and more letters.

Most of them come from my friend in another state.
She writes differently every time;
sometimes it's cursive,
sometimes it's print,
sometimes I can't even make sense of it.

The others come from my friends on my island.
They each write differently;
sometimes it sounds exciting,
sometimes it sounds forced,
sometimes it sounds like pitty,
and sometimes I can't even tell if they like me.

And then there's those letters.

The ones that aren't on paper.
These ones are the different kinds,
The kind that'll never be hand written,
The kind that'll never be physical,
The kind that'll never be real,
and the kind I reread every night before I go to bed.

Until I couldn't no more.

Gone, like petals in a storm.
Gone, like light evaporating.
Gone, like acid burning through paper.

But if they were still here, I wouldn't be here.
I would be gone like petals in a storm,
gone like light evaporating,
and gone like acid burning through paper.

I would rather be here and not there,
rather than be there and not here.

I would rather keep this old shoe box close to me,
than be in my own type of box.

I would rather guide Achilles off,
rather than pushing him off.

I would rather be able to experience someone's love,
someone's touch,
someone's heart,
than stay stuck with this one, and let it kill me slowly.

I would rather drink my poison with bread than alone.

I would rather dull the blade than have it sharpen.

I would rather read the letters in the shoe box,
stored away in my closet,
forgotten and remembered randomly.

I would rather run my fingers over the signatures,
flip the page over and smile at the smiley faces,
carefully put back the letter in the envelope.

Yes, I would rather do that than read a screen so bright,
the font too small and all the same,
The same typos over and over.

But how I yearn for the multi-sentences.
How I long for the name with the moon next to it.
How I miss our early morning calls.

I know she's looking down at me,
smiling softly,
singing quietly,
whispering loudly.

I'm rereading the letters,
the late-night texts,
the little sticky notes.

I'm revisiting the memories,
the sunny rainy days,
the stormy clear days.

I'm remembering the smiles,
the salty tears,
the bitter blood.

Again, again, and again.

This time, I've added something new:
a single polaroid photo of you and I,
of who we were.

We were dancing in the park,
your hair glowing in the candlelight,
your eyes sparkling in a way I haven't seen.

We were drinking milkshakes,
your head thrown back with laughter,
your leg brushing against mine.

We were making our own constellations,
your skin smooth and soft,
your voice hypnotizing.

We were making bracelets,
yours was black and red,
your favorite colors.

You were driving,
my music was too loud.

This is a poem my friend, Lila wrote me yesterday. She said she wanted me to post it here ;-; she doesn't have gr but she wanted me to post it anyways and yeah =D enjoy lol

You by Lila

I read them now.
I'm the one who closes them.
I'm the one who doesn't open them.

I read them now.
Every "I miss you"
Every "I'm sorry"

I read them now.
I'm the one who scoffs at your name,
I'm the one who rolls my eyes at your name.

I read them now.
Every "Can we talk"
Every "I love you"

I was the one she told everything to.
I was the one she cried about everything to.
I was the one she laughed about everything to.

Archiving messages reads them,
deleting them doesn't open them,
blocking doesn't recive them.

But you don't know that, do you?
You don't know that I'm always with her, do you?
You don't know that I'm her best friend, do you?

Kind of emo ig lol

February 14th
Red hearts cut in half on the table,
don't know when she's coming back.
Told myself to go to bed, don't think that I can.
Look myself in the mirror, no longer stable.
Staring at my reflection, was this her grand plan?
Red hearts cut in half, feel like an attack.

Red hearts cut in half in a fable,
turns out I didn't know Jack.
Now I'm putting my heart on a ban,
running away, past the smell of maple.
Wondering why it hurts like a man.
My heart is cut in half, blood spilling black.

(more of a song than a poem but yeah)

To His Coy Mistress by Andrew Marvell is cool. idk if it can be considered a poem but yeah that's how i feel about the gal i like oop

This is a poem based on the lyrics/quotes i have in my bio

(view spoiler)[
Here are the quotes!

❝she's so pretty. she just sorta sparkles. i'll never sparkle❞
❝you turn me inside out, and then you want me outside in // you spin me all around, and then you ask me not to spin // you say you wanna be alone and you want children // you wanna be with me and you wanna be with him❞
❝i skipped to show you what my heart feels like // then I'll get close and ask you // won't you take a listen and dance with me to the rhythm?❞
❝the time is right, your perfume fills my head // the stars get red and oh, the night's so blue // and then I go and say and spoil it all // by saying something stupid like, i love you // i love you❞
❝shake that, shake that, shake that // rule the world❞
❝You'll never hold me tight // and you'll never kiss me sweetly // it keeps me up at night❞
(hide spoiler)]

Lyrics to Me

I'll never sparkle,
not like her anyway.
I'll never shine,
not like him anyway.

You wanna be with me and you wanna be with him,
I wanna be with you, and you wanna be with him.
You wanna be with her and you wanna be with him.
I wanna be with you, and you wanna be with them.

Won't you take a listen and dance with me to the rhythm?
Won't you take a moment and hum with me to the beat?
Won't you take a second and laugh with me to the joke?

I love you.
I care about you—I miss you.
But I'm not allowed to love or miss you,
so instead I'll care about you in secret.

Rule the world,
conquer the fears,
stride on with confidence they all said.
But I cannot. I cannot rule or conquer or stride on.

It keeps me up at night.
The names, the faces, the looks.
It haunts me in the daytime.
The words, the tones, the scoffs.

idk. looking for feedback.

.·:*¨༺♡ Honeydew ♡༻¨*:·. wrote: "This is a poem based on the lyrics/quotes i have in my bio


Here are the quotes!

❝she's so pretty. she just sorta sparkles. i'll never sparkle❞
❝you turn me inside out, and then you want me outsi..."

i love this one so much!!!

@Addie

Thanks =]

Addie💀💜 wrote: ".·:*¨༺♡ Honeydew ♡༻¨*:·. wrote: "This is a poem based on the lyrics/quotes i have in my bio


Here are the quotes!

❝she's so pretty. she just sorta sparkles. i'll never sparkle❞
❝you turn me insid..."

It's beautiful

.·:*¨༺♡ Honeydew ♡༻¨*:·. wrote: "@Addie

Thanks =]"

ofcc :)

Tangled in Kelp

Of course, I should’ve seen this coming.
Obviously, I knew this would happen.
Clearly, I didn't care.

I should’ve seen how easily it was to crumble a sand castle.
I knew I would drown in the sea with the castle.
I didn't care that I would though.

Clearly, you didn't mind.
Obviously, you liked the attention.
Of course, you knew.

You didn't mind how each time I resurfaced, I would get pushed down again.
You liked the attention I gave everything away for, just to see you smile.
You knew I wouldn't have survived.

Of course.
Obviously.
Clearly.

Unnamed

"You did a good job,"
"I'm proud of you,"
"Great work!"

Simple sentences so sweet,
but beautifully bitterly bogus.

"Do a better job,"
"You've disappointed me,"
"Get it done."

simple sentences so sour,
but beautifully bitterly brilliant.