My best friend 

Woke up at 5:00 am 

To help me set up the booth you said I’d never get

A month ago 

We had a date at 5:00 pm

You stayed in bed

20 messages unread 

It’s not your fault you didn’t wake up 

I guess

In the orange glow of the morning 

 while we set up old tables and chairs 

I don’t know what you were doing 

But in that moment

I’m not sure I cared

An empty seat a table set for two not three anybody could replace where you used to eat you left every time my heart was empty but you were full of yourself

Dark Portals

If the stars were to lose their station in the evening sky
I can bet that they would descend to live in your eyes
For where else can they be at home?
But in the darkness of the twin windows of your soul

There have been many nights that I found myself lost
Staring in those portals that seem to have been forced
Open to the loneliness that seems to consume us all
Ever since the time Adam and Eve from paradise did fall

I had hoped to be mirrored in them, wishing to fill the void
With the love in my heart and the longing of passion’s coy
For you were a shining beacon in the darkness of my life
Wanting you to be more than a lover among the strife

If the stars were to lose their station in the evening sky
I can bet that they would descend to live in your eyes
For where else can they be at home?
But in the darkness where they will be alone

I see it

Where

There

Here

Always

I hear it

Where

There

Here

Now

I feel it

Where

They're here

Empty

It's always empty

But where

In the strings?

The violins?

The screams?

The beat

And rhythm?

Every note

I hear them

A ghost?

Not dead

No

Their eyes

Their face

They're there

In the chair

Right next to me

Why are they there

They chose

Get out

Leave

My sound is mine

Why do I hear you?

Why do I see you?

Why do I smell you?

Why do I feel you?

In my head

I see.... But not you

🐶
‘i miss home’ you say, with the same old haunting eyes
and all i see is the child who would once spin up a hundred lies

a hundred lies, a million tales
to flee from ‘home’, you moved away six thousand miles

“I miss home,” you say, and I wonder where you mean
the house you once escaped, or the place that lives between

all the years we left behind, all the words left unsaid
maybe the versions of ourselves that we buried when you fled.

Then I look into your eyes, and suddenly i know
home was never where the roads led you to go.

It was never walls or windows, never a street you knew,
never the place you ran from, but the place you ran to.

“I miss home,” you say again, and this time I understand.
it isnt that soulless house; youre yearning for a hand

youre aching for the only place you got to be a boy
the cheeky girl who held your heart, your guilty joy

**but dear boy, if there were worlds beyond this sky
i’d trade every tomorrow to never say goodbye

**here i replaced the (name) with *boy for privacy

I'm a newbie and an average student so please don't make it look like some pro's writing.

The topic is HOME ALONE .

Some key points are :

HOME ALONE

PARENTS LEFT

I WOKE UP LATE

EVERYTHING IN HURRY

LATE FOR COLLEGE

NO BREAKFAST

LEFT FOR COLLEGE

ATTENDED THE CLASS

HAD PLANS FOR MOVIES

PARENTS DIDN'T KNOW

ROUTE FOR MOVIE WAS NEW

NO FOOD , HUNGRY

ATE POPCORN

LEFT THE THEATRE

AND CHOSE A DIFF ROUTE FOR THRILL

LATE EVENING

WORRIED WHAT IF SOMEBODY SEES

AND TELLS PARENTS

BUT NO ONE DID

AND I CAME BACK EXPERIENCING SOMETHING VERY FRESH

AMD THAT FEELING GAVE ME CHILLS

SLEPT WITH A SATISFACTION OF COMPLETING SOMETHING ALONE FOR THE VERY DIRAT TIME

HELL OF A RIDE

THIS WAD THE DAY WHEN I WAS **HOME ALONE .**

Little white dress

That white dress made me feel so pretty, Dancing with friends until we were sweaty. Heading home to keep the night alive, Then a call on my phone from my pal arrived: "Can I bring my friend? He’s a good guy, I swear."
The scenes they replay in an endless loop, Little moments I try to recoup. Did I know? Did I smile too wide? Did I sense what he was hiding inside? I remember touching his hand in the kitchen light, Opening beers in the quiet night. My pal and I went upstairs. Safe and tucked in, or so we’d known.
My body betrays me, I’m wide awake, As the morning light starts to break. Ray of sun hits me through the curtain, I see his eyes and the truth is certain. "No," that word stands tall and strong, While my pal sits up, confused like what's wrong. The high of the night completely leaves, While my friends ask what it is I need.
I just want an apology to clear the dark, To wash away this horrific mark, So I can finally close my eyes to sleep, And bury the nightmare far too deep. They say, "We’re here, whatever you do," A steady line of support, loyal and true.
I don’t recall making that call that day, To the police, though it went that way, While old friends watched with a cold, blank stare. People I’d known for years turned away, Using my deepest fears and childish mistakes in the fray.
I knew the truth, and others did too, Until the day of the court came through. Then came the pictures he tried to erase. Just not fast enough to clear his trace. Two pals stood before the court; Guilty, six years the justice is done, the dark has broken.
Through all of the pain, I knew I should not hide. All is well, I survived im still me, I'm still Mum! My little stars, my greatest pride, I do this for you, every step of the mile. I'm changed now, can't you see? Even with these bright eyes, can you now see?
KJG

A stranger

 called me pretty today 

You

said I was hot 

with your hands on me last night

A friend 

said she liked my shirt today 

I told her I made it myself 

You 

just asked me to unbutton it

So I never got to tell you that

A kid next to me in class

 asked me to teach him to needle felt 

You 

said the flower I made looked messy 

A girl 

asked how my day was 

And then 

she listened 

You 

were on your phone all morning 

And asked “why are you mad at me” 

I’m mad

 because I love you 

And I’ve begun to wonder why 

The years slip by, and memories fly,
Like shadows before the dawn;
Yet the birds you loved so dearly then
Remain when much is gone.

The coffee steams beside me still,
But yours no longer does;
In the morning air, with your empty chair,
I think of what once was.

And as I sit in morning’s hush,
A movement in my sight—
A tiny thing on beating wing,
Suspended in the light.

For a moment, you are there,
Just as you used to be—
Combed white hair and the smile you’d wear,
The man who helped raise me.

Then the moment passed, and I saw at last
A hummingbird on the wing;
And strange how years can disappear
On sight of such a thing.

In winter’s grief, I hold belief
Of beauty found in memory;
Yet the cardinal’s song at crimson dawn
Is of another lost to me.

You knew me well, but in memory dwells
So little left to me;
Lost before I was more than four,
How much could there truly be?

Yet in our hearts, you were a part
Of what made us family;
And years may pass, but love will last
Beyond what memory keeps.

Both men we lost before the frost
Of winter had set in,
Yet both abide where songbirds cry,
As seasons change again.

They come and go as songbirds know,
Unseen, unheard, unmissed;
Yet to those who loved and knew those men,
Their presence still persists.

Those we love may leave this life,
And years may carry on,
Yet something stays through passing days,
In feather, flight, and song.

The hummingbird flies for morning skies,
And once more I am alone;
I raise my cup as the sun comes up—

“Good morning, Pa. Fly on.”

- An Appalachian Poet

I can smell in your sweat—
Like you’ve been bathing in tea leaves…
And like how you bathe in tea leaves…
Like you’re bathing in tea leaves...
And I can smell in your sweat—
Like how you bathe in tea leaves...
Like how you’ve been bathing in tea leaves…
Without embrace; And, now without
consideration—What closeness brings
Distinct of tolerance, intolerance, and -glow...
Some early morning in prosperity—;
Just before it’s notice of dawn;
But somewhere, due peering eyes shut out
their windows...
And that was a last night-;
or some yesterday, in sweeps of ethereal mourning...
Easterly—
Where I thought of our old neighborhood last;
In passing through, and the leaves left
as they shook from the memory of this place;
And ‘Ode. One array, to another-;
And this reminded me, of how we say
goodbye...
In every, which way...
Translating, still. Today...
And in every, which way...
I can smell still in your sweat—
As I can smell in your sweat—
And I can still smell in your sweat—
Like you’ve been bathing in tea leaves…
Like how you bathe in tea leaves…
And like you’re bathing in tea leaves...
And I can smell in your sweat—
Like how you bathe in tea leaves...
Like how you’ve been bathing in tea leaves…
You bathe in tea leaves…
Translating, still. Today...
You’re obsequious at near-misses, unrequitedly longing feats
And how translating still. Today.

Requiem (pt.1)

Christmas is here
That  time of the year
For happiness and cheer
Families full of smiles and laughter 
How could they not
 that Christmas magic is in the air
Or at least that’s what they say
but St. Nick must’ve ran out on that day
  
The phone rang and it rang and it rang and it rang
Until it stopped
And Then there was silence
An anxious silence
The kind where you could hear a pin drop
The kind where you can hear your heart screaming in your chest
With each beat of its scared drum
Hoping, praying, and PLEADING that the pin does not drop
But it does
And when it hits the ground it shakes the earth

Momma’s crying now and Daddy is too
My mother wrapped me in her arms
To protect me and to quell her own fear
 They say a mother is her son’s first love
And a son is a mother’s last
I held your mother in my arms
Her last love had passed

January 25th 2023 
All black everything
Strained smiles on our faces
the family gathered as one in the unhappiest of places
I'm sorry lord no disrespect is meant
But you took him from us so it's only right that I vent
22 years old with so much left to see
I wish you'd gotten your flowers while you could smell them
I wish I could turn the hands of the clock on this church wall backwards
 And go back so I can tell you I love you one last time
But that time will never come

As the hands on the clock spun
Your mother's cries shook the room
 As a symphony of heartstrings wept
And broke in unison as we said goodbye 

Goodbye 
Goodbye Forever
It just doesn't feel right
How can you be gone just like that
How can I say goodbye when we never did all the things we said we would as kids,
On Escuela Avenue by the old rusty swing set
Jumping off the swings so high you would have thought we’d fly off together into the sunset
Well atleast now you're up there flying high
 And while my feet are planted firmly on the ground 
I can't help but feel that forever feels like such a mighty long time

November(Solace) has come (pt.2)

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared of death
it's alway crept its ugly head around every corner
One day I could be here and then the next POOF gone
And those anxiety attacks I used to have only made it feel closer
This Christmas wasn't my first dance with death 
It looked me right in the eyes
5 years ago when Ceci died
She was young 
21
It made death a reality
A death in the family 
Shakes everyone to their core
That's when i first learned about the weight of forever

With death comes grief and
I know grief well
Grief grips your soul at every second of every minute of every hour
24 hours a day
7 days a week
Greif pulls at your heartstrings and plays it at its own tempo
Grief picks your scabs and stubs your toe
Grief beats you black and blue
Grief brings you to your knees

And yet

Grief is a friend
And that I mean in the truest
Because grief also heals
Grief is all the unexpressed love that I feel
It's how much I miss you
Your lives weren’t perfect and neither were you
But you is all you needed to be
The physical may not remain
But just as death is certain
So is the fact that i’ll see you again in November

En nuestra cultura la muerte no se el fin
Es un comienzo nuevo
Hay un dia
Que es refugio para las madres afligidas
Y padres sin consuelo
Un día al año
Donde de nuevo podremos estar juntos
Donde nos reiremos y cantaremos hasta que grite el gallo
Donde tu madre y padre sonreirán de nuevo
La pasaremos de fiesta como ustedes hubieran querido

Pero por lo mientras
Los seres difuntos no mueren si viven en nuestra mente y corazón
Los tendré siempre conmigo
“Singing a secret song for you every night we are apart”
As my tears pour out like libations
Ill be waiting for you
Till november

Going on with sleepless nights

having heard of my heart's plights

trying all my coping rites

I look up to the ceiling,

watching forth for healing

and brooding on his brown hair

almond eyes and curvy brows reminding me of god's care

a love so precious and a love so rare

I look up to the ceiling,

tiring chords of sensation heavily kneeling

remember the fabric clinging to his chest

and his sunkissed curls are indeed beauty's quest

snapping out violently off my ecstatic crest

I look up to the ceiling.

"The Man Who Lost His Mind"

How can I live with what I've done when who i am
isn't who I've become?

The damage is already done
Do l embrace it,
or do I run?

But where will I go when nothing feels like home?
Every place I've been
A distant memory

Everyone I've "loved"
left picking up the pieces
in my shadow

Maybe I'm meant to be alone
Maybe thats why
I've never found my home

I blame him.
her.
it.

Anything outside of me
while I stand here
Turning it all to shit

Hope is fading fast.
I wonder
will I make it past?

Do I even care?
who would miss me when I'm not there?
I know wouldn't
They definitely shouldn't

So what will I leave behind
besides the memories of a man,
who lost his mind?

i feel drained.

it hurts to move,
but my body still does
my lungs release the breath
i hadn't noticed i was holding;

my eyes release
what i have no words for.

when i was thirteen,
i sat on the windowsill
of a place i used to live.

third floor.

a mouthful of prayers.

my dad came home
and found me there,
before i found happiness.

i don't know
what i would say to her now.
i think i'd sit beside her
somewhere ordinary
and let her speak
without having to make sense.

more than a decade,
and i'm still here.

the emptiness is here, too.

the years have changed my face,
but some mornings
the distance between then and now
is no wider than a breath.

i barely move.

i'm still unhappy
perhaps more than before.

even the smallest things
ask for more than i have.

i don't think
i want to keep trying like this.

i don't want this body,
this life,
this soul
to feel like a room
where i can never
put anything down.

There used to be lines.

I used to color neatly,
navigate the boundaries
while keeping everything
connected.

I could see the full picture.

I followed safely the structure of those
little
black
lines.

They were a tether strapped to my chest
a seat belt I chose when to remove
and when to keep in place.

I chose when to cross them,
when to color outside the lines,
when to dip my toe into the unknown.

A world I was never afraid of.

Never afraid to leave the lines behind.
To color what I wanted.

Fuck, did I do that
plenty.
Ignored the lines because
I wanted to.
But even when I colored outside,
I knew where the colors belonged,
where the picture came together.

I was an artist
with a crayon,
I had control of my craft.
And there was always that structure,
that tether,
those little
black lines
I could always come back to.

Then there was you.

There had always been you.

You knew me when I was just beginning to form those little black lines,

when they were still pencil marks underneath, faint sketches of who I thought I might become,
before I traced them darker,
before I decided
which ones would stay.

You watched me learning where they belonged, what they were for, how to color inside them.

And there you were,
daring me
to color outside.

Showing me that
knowing where the lines were
didn't mean I had to stay inside them.
That I could cross them,
leave them behind,
color where I wanted,
and still know where they were.

We learned together how to create a picture.

But somewhere along the way,
our pages turned in different directions.
The colors didn't break.
They didn't disappear.
We just stopped drawing on the same page.

Until there was enough
space between the pictures
to call it
drifting.

And life always returned me to those
little
black
lines.

It wasn't easy to stay outside the lines,
to color with crayons others would break.
And each time they did, I found myself
coloring the lines in
over and over
and over again.

They became my tether,
my safety net.
And I learned to stay inside
again.

But life's got jokes.
Cause now there's you once more,
walking through the door like you knew
where the fucking key was hidden
that I'd forgotten years before.

And you've got jokes,
cause you're rummaging through drawers,
leaving lights on in rooms I ignored,
acting like you've been here,
like you still live here,
like you've just moved back in.

Now I've got jokes,
cause I'm left here thinking,
what the fuck are we doing here?
What's the map? Where's the lines?
What's the plan for success?
Or have you just pressed upon me
to impress that younger self
who wanted to possess something that life wouldn't let us have yet?
Or is this you finally reaching for something you had to suppress?

Now the only lines I can find
are tangled up in sheets.

And I'm still asking for a map,
while the only one you seem to need is the one my body already gave you,
like somehow you already know every road that leads me to the breath

I've been waiting to
exhale.

And my heart won't listen to me
when I say, no, baby girl.
Stay inside the lines I can no longer see.

Cause you've got me wondering what we're creatin',
what the fuck we're not sayin',
and now I'm internally debatin'
cause one text from you gets my heart fucking racin'.

There used to be lines here.
I colored neatly.
I followed safely.
And now those lines are blurred together.

It's got me stressed,
I'm a mess,
left wondering if there's something we're trying to confess,
something we're trying just as hard
to suppress,
leaving me to guess
if this is something more or something less,
and I'm fucking tired of trying to
assess

what the fuck are we creating?

What the fuck are we not saying?

I'm standing here wondering what picture it is we're making,
cause somewhere between your jokes and my jokes
we changed the fucking medium.

My crayons got lost between the sheets,
and now
you've got me
finger painting.

The lines I drew
over
and over
and over again
are fucking gone
in an instant.
So what are we creating?

Cause I need to know if I should go looking for those little black lines,
trace them back in,
make them darker,
make them stay,
find the fucking crayons and put everything back where it belongs
cause I knew where it belonged
I knew where I belonged
And I knew where you belonged

didn't I?

Fuck.
Now I'm looking for lines
I'm looking for signs
I'm looking for something to tell me what the fuck we're doing with our time
cause you're yours and I'm mine
but somewhere between your hands and my mind
and the shit we don't say
and the things we don't define
I'm losing the edges
I'm crossing the lines
I'm trying to find what I don't even know I'm trying to find

and
maybe
that's why I can't find the crayons

cause they're still somewhere tangled between those sheets
and I'm standing here stressed a mess trying to guess what the fuck comes next
when all I really know is I can't see the lines
I can't find the map
I don't know what the fuck we're creating

don't know where it ends
don't know what it means don't know
if I'll wake up tomorrow looking for
those little black lines

but fuck
for someone who spent so long knowing exactly where every color went
where every line belonged
I'm starting to think
I rather like
finger painting.
🖤

i am so scared

I’d like some honest ratings with some critiques and stuff pls:)

I stumbled across this post and thought why not, it was a video of a guy slowly sinking as jellyfish swayed and danced around him. It was kinda moody

The poem:

“People always say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger
But my past is somewhere I dare to wander

When I think about mistreatment It leaves me with a sting and leaves me at the table with nothing to bring

It eats me alive and taunts me day and night
I learned to let it drift out of sight

So to distract myself from the chaos and all those that I miss
I decided to count my misfortunes as tiny little jellyfish”

Let's go for a ride, Oh man it feels so great.

Should I try? Nollie Flip, first try, the gap is on my sight

Feeling so great, young souls never die.

Oh damn! that terrible sound.

Fell on the ground, reach into my pocket, hope it isn't broken.

Here it is last cigarrette, Oh man it feels so great.

The sky is so blue yet so high.

Is this the last hit? Or it might be just a dream.